“Neat,” she replied.
Kate had more than one reason for taking on the work of advocacy.
She was uneasy about her own family history. The Fairweather family farm was located on land originally confiscated from the local Maori iwi, Te Whakatohea, because it was believed they had been implicated in the killing of the missionary Carl Volkner at Opotiki during the New Zealand Wars. For the life of one Pakeha three men had been hanged and a whole tribe dispossessed of their land. Many of the tribe too appeared to have been unwilling participants.
Nevertheless, the Fairweather land and all the best land on the Opotiki flat, the fertile alluvial plain of the Waioeka River, remained alienated from its former Maori owners.
Te Whakatohea had retained only the land which was less useful for farming, the land beyond the confiscation line which ran at the foot of the mountains.
One of the breaking news stories on TV at six o’clock that night pictured a new group of Maori activists styling themselves Nga Tama.
“Our royal bird should never have been allowed to become extinct,” said their spokesman, a man with dreadlocks and a moko. “It was white colonialism that despoiled our land. When the King sent his son here in 1902, they made our leaders grovel before him with their huia feathers. That was how all the huia were killed. It was a Pakeha holocaust.”
“So, what do you plan to do?” he was asked.
“Our solicitors are preparing a suit against the Crown. We want more than an apology. We are entitled to damages for the loss of the mana which was based on the possession of this taonga.”
“What else do you want?”
“We are asking for special access to our bird which is part of our rangatiratanga according to the provisions of the Treaty of Waitangi. If this access is denied, we want compensation for this as well.”
“How much will you be claiming?”
“We are talking with our solicitor who will be filing the claim.”
“How do you think the public of New Zealand will feel about this?”
The man with dreadlocks shrugged his shoulders. “It’s only justice.”
Kate’s reaction was mixed. Yes, Nga Tama had a case and some Pakeha would be sympathetic, perhaps more so if they weren’t so extreme.
It was true that in the early 70s the myth of New Zealand as a model of good race relations was no longer being accepted. There was increasing realisation that the confiscations after the New Zealand Wars were wrong. There was talk of a big land march and there was evidence that the Maori were mobilising to claim back the land they had lost. Moreover, these claims were based on the Treaty of Waitangi between the Maori tribes and the Crown in 1840, which had given Maori equal rights as British citizens.
But John was right about the hold-ups. The sickening violence used against motorists and their cars in the last few months by groups claiming to be separate tribal groups was alienating ordinary, decent New Zealanders.
She had been advised not to travel alone at night on the open road.
Perhaps the huia will bring us all together again.
CHAPTER 6
Why did my brother have to die?
Tane remembered the furtive service by the graveside. He and his parents were the only mourners huddled together in the grey cold dawn. Below the headland the long Pacific rollers seemed to be joining them too as they sucked back mournfully out of their caverns and reefs. Perhaps they were remembering the lithe youth who used to dive for kai moana in their hidden depths of waving kelp.
In the old days Hone, who was seven years older, played soccer almost every evening with his younger brother, showing Tane the moves he was perfecting as a budding football star, already competing as a member of Te Kaha’s under-fifteen side. Sometimes they would play into the dusk or until Mum called them in for bedtime. Hone was tall for his age and very fast, and Tane hoped that one day he would become as skilled as his older brother.
In Te Whanau-a-Apanui Tane’s family were of chiefly rank. Hone as the eldest son had shown great promise. When young he was reading books at double his age level. He was a leader among his schoolmates, not only academically but also in sport. He thirsted for traditional knowledge, seeking out the elders to hear their stories. He learned the old ways to gather food both from the sea and the great forest. But above all he had an adventurous spirit which showed itself in a passion for exploration. By the time he was fifteen, he would venture far up the valley of the Kereu into the great untracked ranges of the Raukumara.
Not long after a long trip into the mountains, the family noticed an uncharacteristic development. Hone seemed to tire of the games with Tane and he sometimes went to bed early instead of kicking the ball around for an hour after dinner. He left off playing for the club.
The change in the once boisterous confident young lad concerned the family doctor greatly. He arranged for some tests. The week following, the doctor called in with disturbing news. The tests showed abnormalities which needed further assessment. He suggested to Hone’s parents that they take him to Whakatane Hospital for further tests by a specialist. On their return nothing was said to Tane but he could see from his Mum’s stricken expression and red eyes that they had received terrible news about Hone’s health.
Soon the family could no longer look after him and he was taken to the Opotiki Hospital. One night they were called to the hospital urgently. His parents went in first to see Hone, then called him in. He saw Mum and Dad at Hone’s bedside. Dad was very quiet, standing by his Mum who was holding Hone’s hand. They motioned for him to come closer. Hone’s eyes flickered and he said softly. “Keep those goals coming, mate.” He then closed his eyes. Tane’s Mum uttered a terrible cry then threw herself over Hone as if trying to bring back the life which had passed away. His Dad raised her up gently and they all clung to one another, their bodies shaken with sobs .
Tane returned home heartbroken. Who would be his best friend? Who would teach him soccer? Who would read stories to him as his brother had? As the days went on, it seemed things only got worse. His Dad had a terrible argument with the elders about the funeral the morning after Hone had died. Tane’s Mum was distraught at the attitude of many in the community to whom she turned for comfort.
Tane’s mother and father could not bear both their son’s death and the hostility on the marae. They felt they had to leave Te Kaha and went to live in Whakatane. Not long after, on the unaccustomed busy roads of that town they were involved in a car accident in which both died. Tane was taken in by his grandmother back at Te Kaha. She was a formidable person, a kuia, a woman of rank whose name was legendary in Te Whanau-A-Apanui. Tane was determined to follow the example of his brother and eagerly absorbed all the ancient teaching which had been handed down to her and which she treasured.
But one thing was on his mind. On his eleventh birthday he mustered up courage.
“Why do you never talk about Hone?”
His grandmother was silent and looked at him for a long time. “He was a good brother to you?”
“He did everything with me.”
“Remember him that way.”
But Tane was not satisfied. “But why does no one remember him?”
“Did your parents tell you why he died?”
“They probably thought I was too young to understand.”
“Tane, there are some things which cannot be explained.”
“He did something that was wrong, didn’t he?”
She did not answer.
“But why don’t you tell me what happened?”
There was still no response.
“There was a tapu, wasn’t there? That’s why the elders didn’t want a service in the church.”
“But why do you need to know?
“Because he was my brother and I cannot believe that he would do anything… like that.” He could bear it no more and burst into tears.
Behind her tough and weathered exterior she was a kind woman. She put her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his, and he felt it warm and wet with her own tears. “You are a good boy, Tane. And Hone was a good boy. I have told you all I know. Your life is before you. Go to a good school, get to university and work hard.” She paused, drew back and looked straight at him and said in her quiet way. “Some things are not right. If you can make them right, you will do well.”