Authors
November 30th, 2024
Toitū Te Tiriti Hikoi – 19 November 2024
Danette Abraham (Nāi Tūhoe, Ngā Rauru, Director)
The excitement of being just one of the many thousands of people joined together in unity was something that was bigger than myself. The rush of walking through the crowds that gathered at Waitangi Park in Wellington. Finally settling into a gap in the crowd facing a stage we could not see, listening to the disembodied voice of the MC bantering with the crowd, commentating, cracking jokes and singing along with the crowd all added to the atmosphere. But the moment that took my breath away was experiencing the thrill of and letting the deeper meaning of the sea of flags attached to people settle into my wairua. As the wind held the flags to attention, so did the atmosphere hold us captivated in unity, I felt a sense of pride and a wave of emotion took over. We were all there for the same purpose to uphold Te Tiriti and what it means to Iwi Māori and ALL of Aotearoa.
I belong to the sovereign nations of Nāi Tūhoe and Ngā Rauru Kiitahi. My story started before I was even introduced into this world. My tūpuna navigated their way here to Aotearoa, with technology that was beyond many of the later ‘explorers’. Using the stars, the signs and an understanding of the world beyond their sight they settled here in Aotearoa, often travelling back and forth from this land to another. They were sovereign, self-determining and thriving communities who understood their environment through the attention paid to its rhythms and relationships to the world around them. This was the world that my tūpuna lived in long before the whalers, sealers, traders and ultimately, the British arrived. This is our history.
I was born into a colonised world, where my first language was not my indigenous tongue but an introduced one, where my skin colour, culture and wellbeing was not recognised as a gift or a basic right. The right for my people to exist had been systematically revoked and eroded for over 180 years. A world where I (we) could not see ourselves reflected in society, where we as teens had to petition our school to have access to learning te reo Māori instead of the Japanese or German offered. This is my history.
Te Tiriti o Waitangi offered a place for newcomers to be here, to look after their own, it reinforced the sovereignty of iwi around Aotearoa, acknowledged our continued relationship to te taiao, our environment, as custodians and the rights of our tūpuna and future generations. This is not the first Government to attempt to nullify, or to dishonour Te Tiriti o Waitangi and the people it is attached to but hopefully it will be the last!
While I walked the 3kms from Waitangi Park to Parliament Grounds I was in awe of what was happening around me. I had only just joined this hikoi as many had. I flew to Te Upoko o te Ika (Wellington area) while others had spent the week running, walking or in a carkoi (play on hikoi), such was their ability to dedicate to this kaupapa. Toitū te Tiriti. The weeks leading up to this event there was mass communication about the kawa, safety and progress of the hikoi. The organisers, whom I get to call young people these days, did a brilliant job with their communication, motivation, care and manaaki for this massive activation.
I walked alongside my longtime friend and Pākeha Tiriti o Waitangi educator Gwyn John
and her Tangata Whenua whāngai Mama. The three of us representing our Tūpuna and our mokopuna to come. Acknowledging that we three come from diverse backgrounds and experiences that all led us here. Together, understanding the significance of the moment and beyond. There was a moment during the 3hr walk I stretched to see over the heads of people. I could not see to the end of the sea of people either behind me or before me! Shop employees stood outside their business in silent and encouraging support (my observations), some even displaying the Tino Rangatiratanga flag. People were flying flags from the buildings above us showing solidarity. When people would move past us or a flag would inadvertently fly into someone’s face it would always be followed up with ‘excuse me’ or ‘sorry’. For everyone that was present there were thousands more around the country that couldn’t be. Spread out through the crowds were people on megaphones rallying the crowds with chants, haka, waiata intermingled with the classic Māori humor.
Arriving at Parliament was breathtaking. The crowds, flags, sights,sounds, the unity and the intention. Iwi Māori, Tangata Tiriti, Tangata Moana, Asian communities, too many people groups to name were there in force. Together we were there to say NO to the redefining of a contract. This is the hope of our future as a nation, where we all understand that there is no threat in upholding Te Tiriti for us all. Where there is hope and determination for a different future for our mokopuna. The people of Aotearoa are being educated on who we are as a nation and it showed. We are not going away, we will do this together. Don’t let the momentum slide. Get your Submission in to Toitū te Tiriti!
Tūturu whakamaua kia tina! Tina! Hara mai te toki. Haumi e, hui e tāiki e!
Toitū te Tiriti, Tino Rangatiratanga, He Whakaputanga – Never Ceded
______________________________________________________________
Gwyn John (Tangata Tiriti, Senior Consultant)
I am Pākehā—not a slur, but a reflection of my place in Aotearoa, a visitor on these lands of tangata whenua, where my ancestors arrived in 1841. This is my home, yet I carry a profound sense of responsibility to honour the invitation extended by the original stewards of these lands.
Like many, I grew up unaware of the deep scars colonization left here. My worldview, shaped by a predominantly white, Western environment, seemed normal; until I began learning te reo Māori and tikanga in my twenties. It was then that I confronted the truth of colonization’s violent legacy and the privilege I had as a beneficiary of my settler ancestors. And I began a journey which requires me to unlearn my colonial thinking and open my understanding to a completely different way of seeing and being in the world.
In 1995, I stood on the ātea of Ōmahu Marae, it was one of the “Fiscal Envelope” hui, and here I was, this little white girl, holding a Tino Rangatiratanga flag—a symbol of Māori sovereignty that many Pākehā then feared. I knew, in that moment, that I had a role to play in supporting the restoration of tangata whenua authority, a fire in me was lit and as I said that night at an action planning meeting “I cannot unknow, what I have learnt, and I must act”. Since then, I’ve been involved in actions and education encouraging others about the promises of Te Tiriti o Waitangi and the need for justice. Often, the Pākehā voices alongside me were few, a small splash in a sea of tangata whenua.
But the Toitū te Tiriti Hīkoi on November 19 in Pōneke was different. As we approached Waitangi Park, streams of people, young and old, Māori and tauiwi, flooded the streets. Flags of Tino Rangatiratanga and He Whakaputanga waved proudly in the breeze, symbols of strength, aroha, and the unbroken sovereignty of hapū.
It’s hard to describe the feeling of being on the march. Shoulder to shoulder packed in every direction, spontaneous haka and waiata and chants, the annoying tambourine and the even more annoying recorder. The prams and trolleys with bundles of arms and legs protruding from blankets, trying to keep sight of our group without losing anyone. pushing through the crowds to try and get close enough to see what was going on, or at least hear, but not getting anywhere near the front. The friendly, caring, generous manaakitanga that everyone brought to the kaupapa. How easily conversations started and thoughts were shared because we were all there for the same reason. Toitū te Tiriti!
Thousands gathered—a powerful, united front of tangata whenua and tangata Tiriti, standing side by side with one purpose: to honor Tino Rangatiratanga and demand our government uphold Te Tiriti o Waitangi. Led by the ‘kōhanga generation’, this Hīkoi was a breathtaking fusion of tradition and modernity, tupuna-inspired and mokopuna-focused. The determination in the air was undeniable the ancient cry of ‘ka whawhai tonu mātau’ (we will fight on) becoming ‘ka ora tonu mātau’ (we will live on). This wasn’t just a Māori movement anymore—Pākehā came in their thousands, awakened at last to the call of justice. It felt like a turning point, a collective recognition that the harm of colonization must be addressed, that we must restore what was taken and reimagine our place in these Pacific Islands deeply connected to this land and its rich cultures.
This Hīkoi was more than a march; it was the start of a new chapter—a future of integrity, humility, and restoration. A time where Tino Rangatiratanga is not only acknowledged but celebrated and where tangata Tiriti live up to the promise of Te Tiriti and the words of the late great Mitzi Nairn, ‘we might be the people the Rangatira thought they were getting when they signed Te Tiriti o Waitangi in 1840’.
This piece was written by Danette Abraham (Senior Consultant and Director) and Gywn John (Senior Consultant).
You can read more stories of impact as well as thought-provoking pieces from across our Leadership Lab ecosystem by signing up for this monthly pānui (see bottom of www.leadershiplab.co.nz) or by connecting with us on our Leadership Lab LinkedIn and Facebook . Thanks heaps for your interest.
November 30th, 2024
Toitū Te Tiriti Hikoi – 19 November 2024
Danette Abraham (Nāi Tūhoe, Ngā Rauru, Director)
The excitement of being just one of the many thousands of people joined together in unity was something that was bigger than myself. The rush of walking through the crowds that gathered at Waitangi Park in Wellington. Finally settling into a gap in the crowd facing a stage we could not see, listening to the disembodied voice of the MC bantering with the crowd, commentating, cracking jokes and singing along with the crowd all added to the atmosphere. But the moment that took my breath away was experiencing the thrill of and letting the deeper meaning of the sea of flags attached to people settle into my wairua. As the wind held the flags to attention, so did the atmosphere hold us captivated in unity, I felt a sense of pride and a wave of emotion took over. We were all there for the same purpose to uphold Te Tiriti and what it means to Iwi Māori and ALL of Aotearoa.
I belong to the sovereign nations of Nāi Tūhoe and Ngā Rauru Kiitahi. My story started before I was even introduced into this world. My tūpuna navigated their way here to Aotearoa, with technology that was beyond many of the later ‘explorers’. Using the stars, the signs and an understanding of the world beyond their sight they settled here in Aotearoa, often travelling back and forth from this land to another. They were sovereign, self-determining and thriving communities who understood their environment through the attention paid to its rhythms and relationships to the world around them. This was the world that my tūpuna lived in long before the whalers, sealers, traders and ultimately, the British arrived. This is our history.
I was born into a colonised world, where my first language was not my indigenous tongue but an introduced one, where my skin colour, culture and wellbeing was not recognised as a gift or a basic right. The right for my people to exist had been systematically revoked and eroded for over 180 years. A world where I (we) could not see ourselves reflected in society, where we as teens had to petition our school to have access to learning te reo Māori instead of the Japanese or German offered. This is my history.
Te Tiriti o Waitangi offered a place for newcomers to be here, to look after their own, it reinforced the sovereignty of iwi around Aotearoa, acknowledged our continued relationship to te taiao, our environment, as custodians and the rights of our tūpuna and future generations. This is not the first Government to attempt to nullify, or to dishonour Te Tiriti o Waitangi and the people it is attached to but hopefully it will be the last!
While I walked the 3kms from Waitangi Park to Parliament Grounds I was in awe of what was happening around me. I had only just joined this hikoi as many had. I flew to Te Upoko o te Ika (Wellington area) while others had spent the week running, walking or in a carkoi (play on hikoi), such was their ability to dedicate to this kaupapa. Toitū te Tiriti. The weeks leading up to this event there was mass communication about the kawa, safety and progress of the hikoi. The organisers, whom I get to call young people these days, did a brilliant job with their communication, motivation, care and manaaki for this massive activation.
I walked alongside my longtime friend and Pākeha Tiriti o Waitangi educator Gwyn John and her Tangata Whenua whāngai Mama. The three of us representing our Tūpuna and our mokopuna to come. Acknowledging that we three come from diverse backgrounds and experiences that all led us here. Together, understanding the significance of the moment and beyond. There was a moment during the 3hr walk I stretched to see over the heads of people. I could not see to the end of the sea of people either behind me or before me! Shop employees stood outside their business in silent and encouraging support (my observations), some even displaying the Tino Rangatiratanga flag. People were flying flags from the buildings above us showing solidarity. When people would move past us or a flag would inadvertently fly into someone’s face it would always be followed up with ‘excuse me’ or ‘sorry’. For everyone that was present there were thousands more around the country that couldn’t be. Spread out through the crowds were people on megaphones rallying the crowds with chants, haka, waiata intermingled with the classic Māori humor.
Arriving at Parliament was breathtaking. The crowds, flags, sights,sounds, the unity and the intention. Iwi Māori, Tangata Tiriti, Tangata Moana, Asian communities, too many people groups to name were there in force. Together we were there to say NO to the redefining of a contract. This is the hope of our future as a nation, where we all understand that there is no threat in upholding Te Tiriti for us all. Where there is hope and determination for a different future for our mokopuna. The people of Aotearoa are being educated on who we are as a nation and it showed. We are not going away, we will do this together. Don’t let the momentum slide. Get your Submission in to Toitū te Tiriti!
Tūturu whakamaua kia tina! Tina! Hara mai te toki. Haumi e, hui e tāiki e!
Toitū te Tiriti, Tino Rangatiratanga, He Whakaputanga – Never Ceded
______________________________________________________________
Gwyn John (Tangata Tiriti, Senior Consultant)
I am Pākehā—not a slur, but a reflection of my place in Aotearoa, a visitor on these lands of tangata whenua, where my ancestors arrived in 1841. This is my home, yet I carry a profound sense of responsibility to honour the invitation extended by the original stewards of these lands.
Like many, I grew up unaware of the deep scars colonization left here. My worldview, shaped by a predominantly white, Western environment, seemed normal; until I began learning te reo Māori and tikanga in my twenties. It was then that I confronted the truth of colonization’s violent legacy and the privilege I had as a beneficiary of my settler ancestors. And I began a journey which requires me to unlearn my colonial thinking and open my understanding to a completely different way of seeing and being in the world.
In 1995, I stood on the ātea of Ōmahu Marae, it was one of the “Fiscal Envelope” hui, and here I was, this little white girl, holding a Tino Rangatiratanga flag—a symbol of Māori sovereignty that many Pākehā then feared. I knew, in that moment, that I had a role to play in supporting the restoration of tangata whenua authority, a fire in me was lit and as I said that night at an action planning meeting “I cannot unknow, what I have learnt, and I must act”. Since then, I’ve been involved in actions and education encouraging others about the promises of Te Tiriti o Waitangi and the need for justice. Often, the Pākehā voices alongside me were few, a small splash in a sea of tangata whenua.
But the Toitū te Tiriti Hīkoi on November 19 in Pōneke was different. As we approached Waitangi Park, streams of people, young and old, Māori and tauiwi, flooded the streets. Flags of Tino Rangatiratanga and He Whakaputanga waved proudly in the breeze, symbols of strength, aroha, and the unbroken sovereignty of hapū.
It’s hard to describe the feeling of being on the march. Shoulder to shoulder packed in every direction, spontaneous haka and waiata and chants, the annoying tambourine and the even more annoying recorder. The prams and trolleys with bundles of arms and legs protruding from blankets, trying to keep sight of our group without losing anyone. pushing through the crowds to try and get close enough to see what was going on, or at least hear, but not getting anywhere near the front. The friendly, caring, generous manaakitanga that everyone brought to the kaupapa. How easily conversations started and thoughts were shared because we were all there for the same reason. Toitū te Tiriti!
Thousands gathered—a powerful, united front of tangata whenua and tangata Tiriti, standing side by side with one purpose: to honor Tino Rangatiratanga and demand our government uphold Te Tiriti o Waitangi. Led by the ‘kōhanga generation’, this Hīkoi was a breathtaking fusion of tradition and modernity, tupuna-inspired and mokopuna-focused. The determination in the air was undeniable the ancient cry of ‘ka whawhai tonu mātau’ (we will fight on) becoming ‘ka ora tonu mātau’ (we will live on). This wasn’t just a Māori movement anymore—Pākehā came in their thousands, awakened at last to the call of justice. It felt like a turning point, a collective recognition that the harm of colonization must be addressed, that we must restore what was taken and reimagine our place in these Pacific Islands deeply connected to this land and its rich cultures.
This Hīkoi was more than a march; it was the start of a new chapter—a future of integrity, humility, and restoration. A time where Tino Rangatiratanga is not only acknowledged but celebrated and where tangata Tiriti live up to the promise of Te Tiriti and the words of the late great Mitzi Nairn, ‘we might be the people the Rangatira thought they were getting when they signed Te Tiriti o Waitangi in 1840’.
This piece was written by Danette Abraham (Senior Consultant and Director) and Gywn John (Senior Consultant).
You can read more stories of impact as well as thought-provoking pieces from across our Leadership Lab ecosystem by signing up for this monthly pānui (see bottom of www.leadershiplab.co.nz) or by connecting with us on our Leadership Lab LinkedIn and Facebook . Thanks heaps for your interest.
Authors