Witi Ihimaera - The Parihaka Woman

‘Visitors arrived from all over Aotearoa to pray and to korero. They came from the Waikato, Wairarapa and the King Country and as far away as Otago and the Chatham Islands. Scouts watched from the hilltops for them and came running to tell us so that we would be waiting with our welcoming party. I could never detain the tataraki’i in the classroom on those days. I had still kept up learning German from my phrasebook — I don’t know why, perhaps it was a sentimental link to the missionaries at my place of birth, Warea — and I liked to farewell the first girl or boy out the door with the same German phrase that Rimene had addressed to me when I was a little girl. “Leb wohl, mein Herz,” I would say to the child, “Go well, sweetheart.”

‘The children liked to dress up for the visitors. They wore ceremonial shoulder cloaks and feathers, and would welcome the arrivals with song and skipping ropes. Sometimes, the boys whipped their tops among the manu’iri and ran after them. At other times, up would go their kites to dance and soar in the capricious wind. We always said that if the children liked you and made a noise, they were happy. But if they sensed anything about you that was menacing, and they started to buzz or go silent, watch out. ’

‘In those days, the visitors were always greeted on Toroanui, Tohu Kaakahi’s marae. It was the men who were prominent, welcoming the manu’iri with Tohu Kaakahi’s foot-pounding, breast-slapping and vigorous ’aka:

‘“E pari koe te tai, w’akaki ana mai nga ngutuawa o Waitotoroa kei Toroanui, i aa ’a ’a! ’aere ake aku waka e rua, ’ei! Ko te w’iu poi, ko te ringaringa w’iua! Taia!”

‘Titokowaru was a frequent visitor, leaning on his sacred staff Te Porohanga. Whenever Horitana saw him, he leapt to the front of the men and urged them to greater ferocity. “Ringa pakia!’ he would lead them. ‘Flow in the tide, filling the mouth of the river up the Waitotoroa to Toroanui. Behold the prophet’s two canoes to launch his message! The twirling poi! The action of the ’aka! Taia! Aue!”

‘Horitana never ceased to acknowledge his great friendship with the old fighting chief. “This is the man who could stop bullets,” he would tell me. “Even the winds of Heaven were his.” How thrilling it was to see the way my husband’s muscles bulged as he performed the ’aka.

‘Other dances and songs of welcome greeted the many manu’iri who visited us. I was not very good at poi dancing, so I left that to my sisters and the other women. I envied Ripeka and Meri their dexterity and the ways in which they could make their poi whirr, whirr, whirr in the sparkling sunlight. My sisters were so pretty, especially Ripeka, who would shove herself to the front, twirling her poi for all they were worth. Meri liked composing her own poi songs:

‘“Titiro taku poi! Rere atu, rere mai, taku poi! Look at my poi! It goes up it goes down, it flies around our sacred mountain Taranaki, which is the centre of our lives!”

‘Sometimes, however, she would try too hard in the dance and lose one of her poi. Off it would go, flying like a bird into the crowd.’

‘Such great rangatira came to Parihaka. Surely their coming only confirmed the growing greatness of our citadel. Among the chiefs were Wiremu Parata, Winiata Naera, Whakawhiria and, as always, the great Wiremu Kingi Te Matakatea. Despite a promise by George Grey, Matakatea’s land had been confiscated and he smouldered, still awaiting its restitution. Te Kooti Arikirangi came from Poverty Bay and Raniera Erihana was a regular visitor from the South Island.

‘Europeans were also welcomed, even government officials, like Robert Reid Parris and James Mackay, land purchase agents, who came to spy on us. They tried to bribe Te Whiti and Tohu or even speak against them on our own marae! We were scornful of their attempts to spread dissent among us and cast doubt on our leaders. They were like the money-lenders in the temple, moving among the people, asking, “Have you got land to sell?”

‘There were also journalists and always the handful of curious sightseers. I liked to engage them in conversation about the world outside Parihaka. I think a few were surprised that I could read and write. I wasn’t offended by their presumption that Maori were ignorant and uncivilised; it wasn’t their fault that their newspapers portrayed us in this way. A few generously left me books to read, one of which was a tattered but soon revered copy of Shakespeare’s plays.

‘By that time, Te Whiti was around fifty and Tohu just a few years older. Although Tohu had the seniority, Te Whiti was the statesman, the one who always spoke first. He had his grey beard by then and his eyes were always alert. He was reserved and dignified and some Pakeha, forgetting about his education, were disappointed that, well, he was an equal to them . The mi’i over, Te Whiti would open his arms in greeting:

‘“The twelve tribes of Israel are amongst you. Great are you amongst people! You are as a heavy stone not to be moved.”’

Of course, the many visitors to the tribal meetings had to be fed and housed. Although some brought supplies with them, the village men were kept busy cooking the kai: Parihaka now boasted a large granary and associated bakery, and the land and sea were bountiful with fish, beef, poultry, vegetables and other foods. The only drink served was water; Te Whiti frowned on the wai pirau, the Pakeha alcohol.

The visitors loved to wander down Parihaka’s thoroughfares and, sometimes, indulge in inter-tribal games and competitions. They particularly enjoyed the sport of pitting the strength of one bullock team against another. By that time Parihaka had over 100 bullocks in the kainga’s bellowing herd; you could tell by their vanity that even the beloved companions themselves enjoyed showing off their muscles, bellowing and straining to pull the rival teams across a line marked in the earth.

Ripeka and Meri graduated to being handmaidens, helping to serve the kai to the visitors.

‘Anei!’ the young men yelled as they moved among them, ‘Nga putiputi!’

Erenora’s sisters loved the many ’ui because they were able to meet eligible men; they were irritated that she had married before them.

It was at one such gathering that Ripeka met her husband Paora. Really, once she had him in her sights, he didn’t stand a chance because wherever he looked she was standing there, giving him the eye. Paora was a fine young man from Whanganui, but when his companions left — hello, he did not return with them. ‘I told Paora I didn’t want to leave my sisters,’ Ripeka sobbed happily to Erenora.

Not long afterwards, Meri met Riki from the Waikato during a friendly game of cricket. Well, what really happened was that Riki invited Meri to go for a walk in the dark and, as she was trying so hard to please him, she let him go all the way. The consequence was that she became pregnant.

Huhana wasn’t having that. She bailed up Riki’s elders and harangued them. ‘This isn’t just any girl he’s had his way with! This is my Meri.’

Poor Riki found himself being told by his chiefs to do the right thing. The good part was that he truly did adore Meri and, as a token of his love, he gave her a beautiful greenstone ’eitiki, neck pendant. ‘I will wear it always,’ she said to him. But did she go back to the Waikato with him? No. She couldn’t bear to be separated from Erenora and Ripeka either. Riki had to make a choice and, like Paora, he stayed in Parihaka too.

Horitana shook his head and mused to Erenora, ‘Sometimes I suspect you sisters love each other more than you do your husbands.’

Erenora tried not to be envious of Meri’s beautiful rounded pregnant body. No matter the strength of Horitana’s and her lovemaking, sadly, she could not come to child with him.