Huia Short Stories 15 E-Book

Various Authors

• Herausgeber: Huia Publishers
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Serie: Huia Short Stories
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 240

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Here are the best short fiction stories, short non-fiction pieces and poetry from the Pikihuia Awards for Māori writers 2023 as judged by Emma Espiner, Carol Hirschfeld, Maiki Sherman, Mike Ross, Hēmi Kelly and Robert Sullivan. This competition, run by the Māori Literature Trust and Huia Publishers, is held every two years to promote Māori writers and their work. This year, the awards sought short non-fiction and poetry, along with short fiction, from writers in te reo Māori and English. The competition attracts entries each year from writers of all ages and those who are starting out to seasoned authors. This collection of finalists' work celebrates Māori writing, introduces new talent and gives an opportunity for Māori writers to shine.

Leseprobe

First published in 2023 by Huia Publishers39 Pipitea Street, PO Box 12280Wellington, Aotearoa New Zealandwww.huia.co.nz

ISBN 978-1-77550-821-2 (print)ISBN 978-1-77550-846-5 (EPUB)ISSN 1177-0848

Copyright © the authors 2023

The authors have asserted their rights to be identified as the authors of their respective works.

Cover image copyright © Erena Koopu 2023Back cover image copyright © Erena Koopu 2023

This book is copyright. Apart from fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without the prior permission of the publisher.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of New Zealand.

Ebook conversion 2025 by meBooks

Published with the assistance of

Contents

Foreword

Eboni Waitere

Fiction

E Niwa, kaua e turituri!

Rea Aane

Ko Pare te Pūkeko Nanakia

Pine Tamahori Campbell

Affidavit in the Family Court: Ranginui vs Papatūānuku (Letter to the Climate)

Nadine Anne Hura

Jonas Was Not a Brave Boy

Steph Julian

Te Koha Tūmatarau

Jacob McGregor

Awa

Sarah McOnie

Ko te pō whakanui huritau

Atakohu Middleton

kintsugi with the colour pink

Anthony Pita

Stars of Hood Street

Marama Salsano

Te haerenga o Hinauri ki te rapu i te Kāhui o Matariki

Te Ataakura Swannell-Kaa

Te Wehenga

Christie Wallace

The Island

Toni Wi

Poetry

Another brown face

Shelley Burne-Field

you begin to see

Miriama Gemmell

When the rains came

Abby Hauraki

Hei Hoa Mauroa

Aperahama Hurihanganui

Sister

Ana Maria King

te karu o te whenua / amphibian

Ana Maria King

Mā te roa ka aha

Winara Levi

Ko Taua Āhua Tonu

Airana Ueroa Ngarewa

Mahi Kai

Zeb Tamihana Nicklin

Kura Kōkakō Māori kua rere ki hea ngā tau

Zeb Tamihana Nicklin

Scarred Native Tongues

Hannah Urupikia Rapata

nāwai, nāwai

Rauhina Scott-Fyfe

Non-fiction

And we didn’t disappear, we’re still here: On Ana Iti, Moa, Museums, Peppa Pig and Telling Stories

Hana Pera Aoake

Zion and the Three Cancers

Eru J Hart

A Dangerous Country

Nadine Anne Hura

Nō Pātea Ahau

Airana Ueroa Ngarewa

Tin Canning

Zeb Tamihana Nicklin

A Trip to Marsics

Danni Tia Faye Riwai

She Who Dreams of Te Rua o te Moko

Tōrea Scott-Fyfe

What Do We Do about David Ballantyne?

Jordan Tricklebank

The Authors

Foreword

As a publisher, I have the privilege of meeting and working with writers from all walks of life, each with their own aspirations. For some, writing is simply about sharing their story, giving air to their life experiences and wisdom. For others, it’s about giving back to their community with stories and knowledge that can empower and inspire readers. And writing can also be a passion that urges an author on in their career, to write acclaimed works, reach bestseller lists and have readers across the globe. Success can mean something different to everyone.

The beauty of the Pikihuia Awards, the biennial writing awards by the Māori Literature Trust, is that it attracts writers from across this spectrum. The contributors to this book are all finalists in the 2023 Pikihuia Awards, a competition that we have been running with the trust every second year for more than twenty years. The Pikihuia Awards, and this accompanying Huia Short Stories series, demonstrate what success is all about – foresight, determination and collaboration. The foresight to carve out a space in the literary world where Māori writers are recognised and celebrated; the follow-through and commitment to see that vision realised; and the community of writers, advocates, funders and staff it takes to make sure the kaupapa continues year on year. The awards themselves also hold so many stories of success within them.

One of the great impacts of the Pikihuia Awards has been inspiring a lasting passion for writing in our young people. Some years ago, a high-school student from Helensville, Brianne Te Paa, was selected as a finalist in the Pikihuia Awards. In 2022, HUIA published her debut books How My Koro Became a Star and Kua Whetūrangitia a Koro. When we approached Brianne to publish her story, she told us that since the awards it had been a dream of hers to be published by HUIA. When she shared this, it brought home the impact opportunities like the Pikihuia Awards have in shaping our aspirations and perceived pathways. Since the release of her books, Brianne has received three awards across the literary sector – Storylines Te Kahurangi Kāterina Te Heikōkō Mataira Award (2022), Best Children’s Book NZ Booklovers Awards (2023) and the Wright Family Foundation Te Kura Pounamu Award for Te Reo Māori (2023).

While some of the names in this book will be new to you today, return to these pages in a few years, and you will see how the Pikihuia Awards have long played a foundational stepping stone for writers. A wonderful example is Whiti Hereaka, who in 2022 won New Zealand’s top literary prize, the Jann Medlicott Acorn Prize for Fiction, for her novel Kurangaituku. She then gained international recognition in 2023 when Kurangaituku was longlisted in the Dublin Literary Award. Whiti’s career illustrates much of why HUIA partners on the Pikihuia Awards and invests in supporting creative writers. Whiti’s is a name you will find in numerous Huia Short Stories, and she was also a participant on the inaugural Te Papa Tupu programme, a six-month mentorship HUIA runs with the Māori Literature Trust to develop creative writers, where she worked on her novel Bugs. Whiti now sits on the board of the Māori Literature Trust and is committed to mentoring emerging writers on Te Papa Tupu.

With each successive year of running the Pikihuia Awards and Te Papa Tupu, the community of writers who have participated in these programmes continues to grow from strength to strength. In 2022, Steph Matuku, Lauren Keenan and Ataria Sharman all took to the stage at the 2022 New Zealand Book Awards for Children and Young Adults, reflecting the great impact these authors are making on children’s literature. In adult fiction, Cassie Hart won the 2022 Sir Julius Vogel Award for Best Novel for Butcherbird, and Colleen Maria Lenihan’s debut book Kōhine was named in The Listener’s top books of 2022 before Colleen took up the Emerging Māori Writer in Residence at the International Institute of Modern Letters in 2023. These achievements capture a snapshot of the last two years, which coincides with when we published Huia Short Stories 14, making this a pertinent time to reflect.

I always enjoy the season of Pikihuia Awards – celebrating the breadth of talent and experience across the entries and finalists is always a pleasure. To all of the finalists who are published in this book, congratulations; whatever your aspirations may be, this is a great success. You join a long list of talented storytellers published in this series. This is a record of the legacy and impact Māori literature has made and continues to make on the world.

Our role is to create space for our storytellers and their stories. And collectively, our voices will be undeniable.

Eboni Waitere

Director

Huia Publishers

Fiction

E Niwa, kaua e turituri!

Rea Aane

He pō marino, he pō whakamārie. Takoto tapapahu ana te whānau ki rō moenga. Engari anō te tokorua, e konihi haere ana me he pōpokorua. Ko tungāne kei mua, e whātaretare atu ana ki tua. Ko tuahine te whiore, hāngū ana me he kiore. Whakapinepine ana te punarua. Ko Te Ao Tuhi, ko Niwareka e rua e rua.

Kei te aha kē rāua? E haere ana rā ki hea?

Ki te hīanga, ki te haututū, ki te harakoakoa pea?

Kei waho rā te tini kaupapa pai mā te kakama hei whai.

Haere mai e Niwa, kua whati te tai!

I tētahi pito o te whare, haruru ana tētahi oro. Whakarongo rua māua

ko taringa, he aha hoki tēnā rongo?

He waka rererangi torohaki pea e hoka ana ki runga. He huinga hōiho

toa e hārapa ana ki mua. He atua whiowhio ka tere ki te rua. Ākene

pea he kaipuke kaitā e whiti ana ki tua.

Kāti! Kia hiwa, e Niwa. Kia ū, kia mau.

E raka te mauī, e raka te katau!

E tā! Ehara ehara!

Tēnā oro he taunga, nē hā?

Āe, ko wai atu hoki?

Ko Pāpā Koro.

Ngunguru ana te ngongoro!

E Niwa, taihoa e hurō.

Kei maranga, kei oho!

I tētahi atu moka o te whare, rangona ana te kōtetetete.

Taringa rahirahi, he aha hoki tēnā tangi?

Ākene pea he manu moe-ao, e whakaohooho ana i te wao.

He Peho tautōhito mōhio ki te kōrero. Taputapu kē ki te

whawhewhawhe. Ko rāua rāua tana mete. Tarawhetewhete ana

te Ruru ānō nei kāore e mutu. He paki te karawhiu, he putunga kupu.

Te āhua nei he tino kaupapa i kōtamutamu ai te ngutu.

Kāti! Kia hiwa, e Niwa. Kia ū, kia mau.

E raka te mauī, e raka te katau!

E tā! Ehara ehara!

Tēnā oro he taunga, nē hā?

Āe, ko wai atu hoki?

Ko Kuikui! Me ko Hine-huihui.

Hei aha mā tāua ēnā take nunui.

Tēnā, e Niwa, kaua e turituri.

I tētahi atu takiwā he pukutākaro te rangona. Whakarongo pīkari, he

aha hoki te take hātakēhi?

Kei kō atu i te tatau he aha rā kei tua? He Maninirau pea, wai ka

hua? He hangareka nenekara, hīanga runga paihikara. Ākene pea e

whakataruna ana. Takahurihuri ki wīwī, tārere ki wāwā. Me pēhea

e kore ai e hemo i te kakata!

He tipua whakakoekoe pea, wai ka tohu? E tōkenekene ana i ngā kēkē,

i te tou. Whakamāngeongeo ana i te kiri kia tiori, kia ngawī. Kātahi

rā hoki te hātakēhi!

Kāti! Kia hiwa, e Niwa. Kia ū, kia mau.

E raka te mauī, e raka te katau!

E tā! Ehara ehara!

Tēnā oro he taunga, nē hā?

Āe, ko wai atu hoki?

Ko Pāpā-pukuhohe nō te whare tapere.

Mō te whakangahau i a māmā, ko ia te mēne!

E Niwa, kei wareware … kaua e turituri, kia tau mārire.

I kō tata atu i te pātū kākāriki, te mahi a te kanohi kanapu ririki. He

poniponi te hanga, kaha ana te hahana. Pūkanakana ana ānō nei kei

te haka! Putē ana mai me te mea nei kei te hiakai!

‘He aha kē ēnā?’ Tā tuahine ui mai.

Ākene pea he pekapeka pohe. He paihamu pūhuruhuru e karore ana i

te rohe. He wūruhi weriweri e aru ana i te kai, he tamariki pea tāna

i minamina ai?

Kāti! Kia hiwa, e Niwa. Kia ū, kia mau.

E raka te mauī, e raka te katau!

E tā! Ehara ehara!

Tēnā hanga he taunga, nē hā?

Āe, e Niwa, he aha rā?

He hipi huruhuru! Engari tonu he whakamataku, te whākanakana

mai o ēnā whatu.

Takitaro kau iho, ka āraitia te aho. Tērā te marama ka taukapo, kua ngaro.

Ka hua he ātārangi, auē ana a tuahine ka tangi.

‘TE WETIWETI! Pakaru ana ngā hamuti.’

Wehi pai ana! Tēnei hanga he kaitā! Ānō he raiona rīrā, ōna matikara

he pīrata. He taniwha whakahaehae, e puku ana tōna rae. He

whakapakoko pīki poho, he anuanu te momo.

Kāti! Kia hiwa, e Niwa. Kia ū, kia mau.

E raka te māui, e raka te katau!

E tā! Ehara ehara!

Tēnā hanga he taunga, nē hā?

Āe, he aha rā?

He poti māia! Ko Koru tēnā.

Kei māharahara, e Niwa.

Hoatu! E pao, Tōrea!

He pō marino, he pō whakamārie. Takoto tapapahu ana

te whānau ki rō moenga.

Ngongoro ana a Pāpā Koro.

E hui ana a Kui, he take nunui!

Ko Pāpā, ko Māmā, haere ana te rekareka.

E tau ana ngā mōkai ki ō rātou nā peka.

Engari anō te tokorua, e konihi haere ana me he pōpokorua.

Ko tungāne kei mua e whātaretare ana ki tua. Ko tuahine hei

whiore, hāngū ana me he kiore.

Whakapinepine ana te punarua.

Ko Te Ao Tuhi, ko Niwareka e rua e rua.

Kei waho rāua, he ngahau te karawhiu. Kua wātea kau kia purea e te hau!

Ko Pare te Pūkeko Nanakia

Pine Tamahori Campbell

Whakawhiti ana a Pare te pūkeko ki te kimi kai māna. Kei tērā taha o te huarahi ko te uru rākau hua a Pāpā Himiona. He kaiponu te Pāpā raka ki ōna rākau hua. Kei te tieki ia i ngā hua hei kairekareka mā ngā mokopuna ka taetae mai i ngā hararei. Kāore he mea i tua atu.

Kia tū a Pare ki tērā taha o te huarahi, he tūmanako nō Pāpā Himiona ka kōnati te nanakia rā, ki raro i ngā wīra nunui, tekau mā rua o te taraka o Piuta. He kaihautū a Piuta mō tētahi ūmanga kawe rākau paina. I ia rā ka haere atu mā te Huarahi Matua o 35 ki Tūranganui-ā-Kiwa, ko te huarahi e whitia e Pare. Katakata ana a Piuta i te koi o Pare ki te whakawhiti i te huarahi me tētahi mea kei ōna ngutu.

I tae naihi nā te whitinga o te kāhui pūkeko a Pare ka whakatūria e Piuta tōna taraka. Parahutihuti ana ō rātou waewae rākau me he taua whakaeke pā tūwatawata te rite. Kei ō rātou ngutu ngā hua whīka a Pāpā Himiona.

Kei muri rā te koroua e whaiwhai ana i a rātou me tōna pū hurihuri tawhito.

‘Ākuni koutou i a au, nāku ngā hua whīka, he kai mā aku mokopuna’.

‘Yee haa!!! Hone Wayne,’ te whakatoi a Piuta. E mōhio ana a ia i hoki mai a Pāpā Himiona i te Pakanga Tuarua o te Ao ki Ihipa.

Kanikani ana ngā hume o ngā pūkeko i a rātou e ngaro atu ana ki te repo harakeke ki tērā taha o te huarahi te kaenga o Pare mā.

Pūkorohia e Pāpā Himiona tōna pū hurihuri rā kātahi ka hoki ki tērā taha o te huarahi ki ngā rākau hua. Tautau ana ngā peka ki a Papatūānuku nā te nui o ngā hua. Māmā noa iho te peke whakarunga atu o Pare mā ki te kapo i ngā hua mā ō rātou ngutu.

Koirā te take kāore a Pāpā Himiona e poro i ngā peka ki te kani i te Hōtoke. He ngāwari mā ngā mokopuna ki te rapu kai mā rātou. Ko ngā whīka te tino kai a ngā mokopuna, a Pare mā hoki. Ko te mahi nui mā Pāpā Himiona, he kaupare, he aruaru i ngā pūkeko koi pau katoa ngā hua i a rātou te kai. Ehara i te mea ko ngā hua o ngā rākau a Pāpā Himiona anake kei te hiahiatia e Pare mā. Arā tōna hēti karukaru kikī ana ki ngā momo mea hei hanga kōhanga, ngā mea pīatatata hoki hei whakanikoniko i ō rātou kōhanga. Nā tōna kaiponu, ahakoa kōhaohao haere, rūhā haere, ka pupuri, ka mau tonu i a ia. Kāore he tatau o te hēti nei, ā, māmā noa te kuhu tika atu o Pare mā ki te hākari.

Tāpapa haere, kūpapa haere te kāhui nanakia a Pare i te poupoutanga o te rā. Itiiti noa ngā waka kei te huarahi. Kua ngakia te kakī o ngā pūkaha. Kua tuwhera ngā pouaka kai, kua tāhoro te kāwhe, kei te pānui niupepa ngā kaihautū taraka kua tū nei rātou ki te whakatā.

Kei te mōhio a Pare koirā te wā ka haere a Pāpā Himiona mā tōna waka hauā hiko ki te hoko niupepa, me te petipeti hōiho hoki.

Ka waiho tana kurī, a Rommel, hei kaitieki ki te kāenga. Engari he pērā hoki te hauoranga a Rommel ki tōna koroua, kua turi, kua kāpō hoki a ia. Engari kei te koi tonu te rongo o Rommel. He rongonui tērā momo kurī ki te taki rongo. Koina te take i tapaina te ingoa o te kuri rā ki tērā rangatira rongonui o Tiamana ki te Pakanga Tuarua o te Ao. He toa ki te ārahi i tōna ope taua ki te kōraha o Ihipa. He pērā hoki te rongo o taua rangatira ki te whaiwhai i te hoariri.

Engari kāore i mau i ngā kiore a Pāpā Himiona mā i a ia. He autaia taua rōpū kiore ki te wero i te taua whawhai a Rommel i ngā puke oneone o te koraha.

Kua mārama kē a Pare mā kia kaua rātou e whakatata atu ki a Rommel koi rongo atu ia i te kakara o te kāhui pūkeko. Kei te mahau o te whare a Rommel e moe ana. I te poupoutanga, ka huri te hau pārera ki te hau moana. Ka hiki ngā pongaihu o Rommel.

‘Ahh kāore awau e rongo ki aua manu waewaeroa, hume tītakataka, ngutu nanakia kei waho i te kēti.’

Ā, nā wai rā ka takoto anō te māhunga o Rommel, ka rua, ka rutua anōtia ki te moe.

Nei rā te koi o Pare. Kua tieki a ia kia hipa atu tētahi taraka kawe kararehe i te kaenga a Pāpā Himiona. Kotahi atu tā rātou oma atu ki te hēti o Pāpā Himiona ki waenga i te haunga ka puta i taua taraka.

Engari a Rommel? Rukuhia te ihu ki roto i te kapu o ōna waewae mua. Auē te haunga o ngā hipi rā.

Kāore a ia e rongo i te taenga mai o te kāhui pūkeko o Pare.

Tīpakongia tētahi tōkena kōhaohao e Pare mai i te pūtu o te Koroua. Parahutihuti ana tana oma atu ki te huarahi, ka titiro ki te taha mauī, ka titiro ki te taha matau, ka tūngou atu tana māhunga, ko te takahi o ngā waewae roa he pērā ki te wīra. Whai muri tata mai te taua pūkeko me ngā tōrō, ngā waia, te puka petipeti tawhito, te pōtae wūrū me ērā atu e tautau ana i ngā ngutu. Me he kawau mārō tā rātou ngaro atu ki roto i te pāharakeke.

Auau ana a Rommel e ngana nei ki te whai i ngā pukeko ka tae ki te huarahi kua kuhu kē ratou ki te repo ngaro atu ai. Kāore a ia e rongo i ngā pūkeko i waenganui i ngā harakeke.

I te hokinga atu o Pāpā Himiona i te toa ka warea te hinengaro ki te wā i rō wāri huna rātou ngā kiore ki te whakarite he māhanga hei wero i a Rommel. Kake ake a ia i ngā puke oneone, he whāroa te tirohanga, he karaka te tae. Kua pakapaka kētia tōna kiri i ngā hihi koi rawa o Tama-nui-te-rā. Kua takaia tōna ūpoko ki te miro kia rite a ia ki te iwi kaenga, ko te Toureg. He iwi whawhai hoki mō tō rātou rangatiratanga.

Ka kitea e ia ngā waka e haere mai ana.

‘Auē he Tiamana!’ I pana a Pāpā Himiona i te kānuku.........

‘E tū Pāpā Himiona, kei aituā koe!’

‘Ngā Tiamana kei te tata mai.’

‘Kāore Pāpā. Kotiti haere koe i te huarahi e aukati ana i ngā waka.’

‘Mā mātou koe e āwhina.’

Hokihoki mai ana te mahara o Pāpā Himiona ki te ao i nōhia ināianei kei Uawa matua. Kāore ngā puke oneone, ko te Huarahi Matua o 35 e whātoro atu ki tērā muka.

‘Arohaina mai e te whānau, he raru nō te kānuku o taku tūrū hauā.’

Ka kitea a Rommel e auau ana kei waho i tōna kaenga.

‘Ko aua pūrari pūkeko!’

‘Auē te hokinga mahara ki tā ratou mahi ko ngā kiore.’

‘E kore ngā kiore i kupengia e Rommel, he pērā hoki a Pare mā.’

Menemene ana te kanohi o Pāpā Himiona.

Aua atu he rā anō āpōpō.

He

Kuputaka

aua atu

hei aha

Awau

Ahau

Ihipa

Egypt

Miro

Turban

Pūhurihuri

Revolver

Tiamana

Germany

Wari

Waddy

Affidavit in the Family Court: Ranginui vs Papatūānuku(Letter to the Climate)

Nadine Anne Hura

In the High Court of New Zealand:

No: FC-4928-30

Under the Care of Children Act 2004

In the matter of the separation of Ranginui and Papatūānuku

Between Plaintiff/Applicant: Ranginui-te-matua-o-ngā-tūpuna-me-ngā-mea-katoa

and

Defendant/Respondent: Papatūānuku-te-whaea-o-ngā-tūpuna-me-ngā-mea-katoa

Affidavit of Papatūānuku-te-whaea-o-ngā-tūpuna-me-ngā-mea-katoa

I, Papatūānuku-te-whaea-o-ngā-tūpuna-me-ngā-mea-katoa, solemnly and sincerely affirm that:

1.In the beginning, when we were younger, I didn’t mind our closeness. I loved the connection and intimacy between us. I thought Ranginui’s protective nature was a sign of love. I thought it was normal for a partner to check in constantly about where I was and who I was with and when I was coming back. I didn’t realise that this kind of love can be unhealthy. The phrase ‘take my breath away’ is not meant to be literal.

2.After the kids were born, I started to feel myself drifting. I would go out to do the shopping and stay away for hours. When I got home, Ranginui would be irate, demanding to know where I had been. I once went to the mall with Tānemāhuta and declined Ranginui’s calls three times. Our son said, ‘Mum, you’re going to get in trouble for that later.’

3.We went to see a counsellor. I thought the counsellor was good and understood me well. He explained to Ranginui that by holding on so tight, he was preventing me from fully expressing myself. He told Ranginui that he shouldn’t feel threatened or afraid of my need for space. He said, ‘Relationships aren’t just about loving the person; they’re also about loving the distance between you.’

4.Ranginui did not like the counsellor. He said he talked in riddles.

5.After six months of therapy, I told Ranginui that I wanted to leave. I said I still wanted to parent together. Ranginui was furious. He said, ‘If you leave, I will get custody of the kids.’ I said, ‘I will not leave without the children.’ He said, ‘Well, they will have to choose.’

6.Our daughter, Rūaumoko, overheard this conversation. She was only young and did not fully understand. The next day, she tried to make us a romantic dinner. Soon after, she began having terrible nightmares. I believe she was worried I would leave without her. She used to sneak into our bed at night, and Ranginui would wake and find her lying between us and become angry. Once, he locked Rūaumoko in her bedroom so she couldn’t get out. Rūaumoko screamed and screamed and banged on the door so loud that the neighbours called the police.

7.Eventually, I moved out of our bedroom into the spare room. One night, Ranginui came and begged me for another chance. He was crying and pleading. The door was locked, and Tānemahuta was scared. He told his siblings to stay in the lounge while he climbed up the balcony and walked across the roof in the dark, smashing a window to get in and take his father away.

8.I went back to the counsellor. I said I was worried about the trauma I was inflicting on our children by trying to leave. The counsellor said that staying in a relationship that isn’t working can be more harmful than leaving. He said that many children are happier and develop better relationships with both parents once they are separated.

9.The next day, I moved out and took Rūaumoko with me. Tāwhiri stayed with his father. Tānemahuta is old enough to go between both of us.

10.A text message (Exhibit A) is attached to this affidavit. It is from Ranginui, dated 28 June 2017. It says, ‘Your need for freedom and selfishness has set off a chain reaction that neither of us can control. You have caused the destruction of our family and ruination of everything we created. Do you remember my telling you about the precautionary principle? You could never see what was coming over the horizon.’

11.A few weeks later, I woke to a cyclone of fury. Ranginui was at my door yelling, ‘Let me in!’ I stood on the other side and waited for him to calm down. After a while, I heard Ranginui whisper, ‘I am so sorry, e te tau. Please forgive me.’ A few moments later, Tama-nui-te-rā appeared and took Ranginui away.

12.I have not had direct contact with Ranginui since the separation. I have blocked all contact. He sometimes drives past my house at unexpected times. I have recently noticed his temper becoming much more volatile and unpredictable.

Signature of the deponent:

(Note: place your signature here after printing this document.)

Papa-tū-ā-nuku

Sworn/Affirmed* at Te-Upoko-o-Te-Ika on this 12th day of March 2018.

R,

Well, I’ve done it.

I finally lodged the affidavit. I wish I could believe it’s over, but I know things will never be over between us.

Do you remember our last night together? Do you remember how I asked if you believed that we were carved from the same piece of clay? You were stroking my face in the dark, and even though I couldn’t see you, I could feel you watching.

You said, ‘I don’t know if we are carved from the same piece of clay, but I know I can’t pull away, no matter how much it burns.’

I couldn’t include any of this in the affidavit. I was advised against it. The court is only interested in the facts, they told me, not feelings. This is crazy when you consider that facts have very little to do with truth. Facts on their own are abstract. Rarely do they convey meaning.

The day you told me that the kids would have to choose between us forever, I knew I would never be able to be with you again. I left with nothing. I was cold all the time, shivering under the blankets as the lawyers excavated my wounds. There was nothing those miners’ heavy claws were not prepared to take from me: oil, coal, stone, iron, the very essence of my being – filling the holes left behind with lies.

Somewhere deep in my core, I was boiling, sweating, burning. But on the surface, I could not stop shivering.

Only Rū understood – then and still. An invisible pulse marking time. Rū taught me how to settle, how to start over, rebuilding from liquid ash. Rū taught me about resilience. Patience. The power of silence. That daughter of ours is more fierce, more tenacious than all her siblings combined. Maybe that’s why you and everyone keep her at arm’s length. Everyone underestimates the pōtiki.

If anyone asks what hurt the most – which the court never will, by the way – I will tell them that it’s not the misrepresentation of my story. It’s not the fact that I have always been portrayed as passive and mute. It’s not even your false accusations of selfishness. What hurts the most is that somehow the children became convinced that our separation was their fault. Tore themselves up over it. Siblings at war. When Tāwhiri ripped out his own eyes in your defence, I couldn’t watch. I turned over.

At any point, you could have intervened. You could have said something to set the record straight. A person is always free to walk out, to let go, to turn away. Blame is irrelevant when you’re writing an inventory of lost things. Loss is loss.

But you just tucked those jewels inside your chest as proof of your righteousness and carried on.

Tāne only calls me now when he’s drunk. Do you know how much he looks up to you, wants to be like you? I can see it, even though he won’t admit it himself, yet no amount of drink can ease the awful weight of blame heaped onto his shoulders. Heaviest of all is his own conscience: the knowledge that in order to stand up for me, he had to stand against you.

Sometimes, regret is so sharp, you can touch it. The tip of a blade, aimed inwards, wants to make a butterfly of your chest. Just because you do the right thing doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay. I am not sorry. I do not regret it. Sometimes there can be a hundred reasons to stay and only one to go, and that one reason outweighs all the rest.

But I would be lying if I didn’t admit that, some days, the rain drives so hard it splits me in two. We have children together. To deny you is to deny them, and I will never do that. Yet here we are, headed to court with evidence heavily weighted in your favour. Folders and files and records and predictions. RCP modelling pathways tracking your temperatures under different scenarios from 1.5 degrees of warming to 1.8 degrees as though I don’t even have a name in this story, let alone a voice.

It’s hard to speak when you suspect no one’s listening. Everyone is obsessed with what can be done to mitigate the force of your wrath, the speed of your changeable moods, the inevitability of collapse.

But no one seems to be paying attention to the reasons why. The ‘evidence’ keeps everyone distracted, looking up when they ought to be looking down. Or more precisely, looking within. Without my story to balance the narrative, the evidence is just a collection of facts devoid of meaning and divorced from truth.