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No. 60 (September 1967)
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A Tribute to Wallace Mangu

How can the word integration be defined? The dictionary says, ‘Combine parts into a whole’. Applied to Pakeha and Maori, what does this mean? Too often it means brown puppets with white men pulling the strings. Too often it means a flashy house, a T.V. set, a big car; and too often it means that one more Maori family has lost its identity.

Instead of combining parts that have character and depth of their own into a whole pattern full of colour and variety, the tendency has been to produce a whole that is a colourless, dull mass.

A tukutuku must remain clear and bright if it is to retain its meaning. If it is soaked until the colours run its character is gone. It is smudged and dirty and meaningless.

Wallace Mangu who died this year had become part of the integrated whole; yet he had retained the colour, the individuality and the pride of a Maori. He never apologised for his Maori blood. He never said, ‘Us poor Maoris. Give us time’. He kept his Maoritanga in his heart and the Pakehatanga in his head. He held his head high, he worked with all the energy God gave him and he envied no man. He had the best of both worlds because he contributed to both.

At his funeral the two worlds joined to pay a tribute to a man whose forty-eight years had been spent ‘combining parts to make a whole’. Proud of his race, he believed in its ultimate ability to give New Zealand a culture unique to her.

Those who mourn him remember his fun, his banter; but they remember too that he was ruthless in his condemnation of any man not proud enough to hold his head up or stand firmly by a principle no matter what it cost.

Wallace Mangu was born at Ruatoria in 1919. Educated at Manutahi Maori School, he began his farming career while still a school boy. He milked by hand, with cousins and uncles to help, and freed the family farm of mortgage. That task completed, he set off for Hawkes Bay, where he worked for four years before returning to share-milk at Ruatoria until the war broke out.

He was a volunteer, leaving with the second Echelon to see service in Britain, Greece, Crete and North Africa. He returned to be discharged with the first furlough group in 1943. Wallace's philosophy was not learned from the pages of Homer or Plato. Life was his university and honesty his school master. He was never half-hearted, and no job of work was done ‘halfpie’. Apathy was not in his vocabulary. He played rugby, he broke in horses, he hunted, he showed ponies, he loved music, he lived. Pain could not defeat him. A back injury bequeathed by the war was never his master.

In 1944 he married a teacher, Rose Mac-Vean from Otago, and their family of seven

Picture icon

Wallace Mangu and his wife, when presented with the Ahu-whenua Trophy in 1962.

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sturdy New Zealanders are making their mark as personalities, proud of the blood they share with their Maori and Pakeha ancestors.

When he arrived in Otorohanga in 1956 to develop his Maori Affairs rehabilitation farm, his zeal and wisdom earned him, in 1960, second place in the dairy section of the Ahu-whenua Trophy, presented by the late Lord Bledisloe, and in 1961 he gained first place. The trophy was presented by the Hon. Mr Hanan at a great Hui Topu at Ngaruawahia in 1962.

Wallace Mangu's interests were wide, R.S.A. was his first love. From membership in his own home area he earned a seat on the Dominion Council. The same enthusiasm brought him into prominence as member of the Maori Battalion Assn, Lions International and Federated Farmers. He helped raise funds for Otorohanga College Gymnasium, Hangatiki School Committee and Whawharua Settlers' Hall, No worthy cause found Wallace uninterested.

Music was one of Wallace's creative mediums and his ability has been passed on to his eldest son, whose dance band is sought far and wide in the Waikato.

To serve, to live fully, to keep what is best in his own culture and accept what is good in another is the heritage Wallace Mangu has left to his family and his country. It is for them to take up the challenge and go on developing a beautiful, balanced, integrated, whole community.

Margaret A. Wright, Hangatiki

AMBITION

Guided by Southern stars.
My forefathers, intrepid, intent,
Dared unknown hazards
Of storm-ravaged seas,
Seeking these fabled shores.

I, Hone, too, shall journey;
My urge that imbred impetus.
Those mystic forces
That impelled my ancestors.

I, Hone, shall fly—
A bird migrating—
Outer space my passage,
My goal those same bright stars.

Marjorie Laurenson

Poutu

Haruru ana te awa i Poutū,
Ko te poutū nā wai,
Ko te poutūhanga a Tamatea,
E kimi ana e hahau ana.
I tōna huānga i a Ngātoro,
E whakamau ana i te kei o tana waka
Ki Tongariro maunga e ha.

Pupuha ana te auahi i runga o Ngāuruhoe,
Tau ana te hukarere o Ruapehu.
Aki mai ana ko te hau tonga.
Aue taukiri e. te makariri e.

E kui, Pīhanga, kāti koa tō huna
I roto i te kohu heke mai i runga e,
Tukuna mai ngā hihi o Tama-nui-te-rā
Kia pā mai ana ki taku kiri,
Kei mate ahau i te anu mātao e.

nā Rangi Harrison

Martyrs Reburied

Following a special ceremony at the graveside, by Revd A. Arrowsmith, vicar of Turangi and Revd N. Te Hau, vicar of Ohinemutu, the martyred remains of two Wanganui missionaries, Manihera and Kereopa, who were murdered more than 120 years ago, were re-buried in the graveyard of St. Paul's Anglican Church, Tokaanu.

New Post for Artist

Aupouri artist Selwyn Muru has taken up a position as a Maori Programme Officer with the N.Z.B.C. in Wellington, working with Mr W. Kerekere who has been appointed Senior Officer of the section following Mr Leo Fowler's retirement.

Interesting task for
Dunedin League members

Following a lecture by Mr D. Simmonds, Keeper in Anthropoligy at the Otago Museum, members of the Dunedin branch of the Maori Women's Welfare League are going to make a cloak, the exact replica of one found around the remains of a Maori lady at Lake Hauroko, dating back about 300 years

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Lament

O Tane Mahuta
I,
Who felled
Thee
Living tree
Now
Twisted driftwood-
Repent
Seeking anew
Your
Recreated beauty
On
Cold beach
Sand-
Oh, Tane Mahuta, Oh, Tane, Tane.

Ian Maclean.