I tuhia ai enei korero e au na te mea kua puta te korero, na, kua whakamutua te kura o Te Wainui. Hore he tamariki mo tenei kura iaianei.

I nga ra o mua, tera tetahi kainga; ona iwi he iwi nui, he iwi kaha ki te mahi, nui te aroha—he iwi.

Iaianei, he kainga hiamoe, hore he ahua apopo, he aha? He maharatanga, he mamaetanga no te ngakau, he aha? No wai te he? No nga taone nunui me o ratou huarahi makariri? Ko tenei te take i whakarerea ai tenei kainga? Kao. Ehara i nga taone, i te hiahia moni, i nga aha ranei. No tatou anake te he.

Ko tenei kainga, ko Te Wainui, tekau ma ono maero te tawhiti mai i Kaeo. E toru nga kainga nei; i tetahi taha ko Mahinepua, i tera taha ko Te Ngaere, i waenganui ko Te Wainui. Ko tenei taku kainga i whanau ai au, i tipu ake ai au. Ko enei aku korero.

I te wai i a au e nohinohi ana, he kainga nui tenei, ko nga tangata o roto he iwi ahuwhenua, he kaha ki te whakato kai, ki te hauhake hoki i nga kai nei. Kotahi te reo o tenei kainga, kotahi te whare, ko Ngatiruamahoe. I taua whare nei, tera nga hui nunui, nga

 

Once upon a time there was a village with a name, a fiercely proud people, with a core, a will to survive. Today, it is a sleepy, barely alive ghost of a village.

Tomorrow, unless a miracle happens, it will only be a memory. As memories go, it will fade into a blur, then into nothing. Does it matter, I ask you? I think it does. I suppose I could blame the cities for calling the people out of their villages to the cold, concrete streets. But, why waste time blaming the city, money, progress? I could have contributed my little bit to keeping her alive.

The village is a place called Wainui, sixteen miles from the nearest town, Kaeo. There are two other villages, one on each side of it, Mahinepua and Ngaere, with Wainui in the middle. I was born and raised in Wainui. I lived there for 13 years; I have seen the changes and I know what I am talking about. When I was young, this was a well-known place. Its people were hard working, planting and cultivating crops, harvesting and storing. Then, there was always one final voice and one house—or rather meeting house. This was and is Ngatiruamahoe. Here I have seen many a large gathering almost monthly, the deaths

 

 

tangi, nga marena; i te wharekai o taua whare nei nga kanikani, nga mahi hei mahi moni, nga kainga o tena mea te kai.

Ko to matou whare kura he tino whare i era ra. I reira noki nga mahi mo te rapu i te matauranga. I te wa i a au e kura ana i konei, e ono tekau nui atu ranei nga tamariki o te kura nei. E rua o matou tima pahiketepaoro, whutupaoro, nga ahua mea whakataetae katoa. Mo te himene, mo te waiata, aue te mamae i te tini o nga whakaaro mau aroha mai!

Ka kaumatua haere au, ka huri nga mahi ahuwhenua a nga tangata ki te moana, ki te hi ika hei hoko ki nga Pakeha mai i Akarana, ki te ngahere ki te mahi hokeke hei hoko ki nga tangata Hainamana, na, tenei te ahua o taku iwi o taku kainga.

Ka haere au ki te Kareti i Kaikohe, na, i nga wa e hoki ai au ki te kainga, kua timata ke te nuku, ara te heke, ki nga taone—ki Whangarei, ki Akarana, a, tu ana nga whare me nga whenua he kotakota, bore kau he aha o roto. A, tae noa e whitu ano whare e toe ana i Te Wainui; i mua, tekau ma whitu nga whare. E toru kei Mahinepua; i mua, tekau ma tahi. I Te Ngaere e wha e toe ana; i mua, tekau ma wha. Hoi ano nga whare e ora ana.

I taku moenga tane, ka hoki atu ano ahau ki taku kainga. Puta mai au i waho o Ngatiruamahoe he wahine. Ka haere mai au me taku tane, mahue atu ki muri aku matua, oku hoa me aku whakaaro. Iaianei, titiro atu ahau i taku kainga nei i Poneke, kua whakamutungia te mahi a te whare kura, kua haere nga mahita, mahue ana he aha?

Iaianei kua tae atu ki enei kainga e toru te hiko. Ki aku whakaaro, tureiti te haere mai o tenei mea. Ae, e ka ana nga raiti a te Pakeha, engari kua kitea nga kokona pouri a toku iwi. Kei hea ra nga reo waiata o mua, nga reo tawai, kakata ranei o nga kotiro, nga mare o nga taitane, nga tangi ranei? Kua pau mutu ake ki nga taone.

Apopo, ngaro atu nga kaumatua o te kainga, aku karani e noho mai nei i Mahinepua, ka pehea tatou nga taitamariki o Te Wainui, o Mahinepua, o Te Ngaere? Ahau me aku tamariki? Me aha—me whakamutu enei whakaaro ki te himene nei, ‘Tera ano he kainga pai ake nei i tenei.’

 

and sad gatherings, the many marriages and in the adjacent dining-house the many dances that echoed throughout its walls, and the feasts that were eaten there.

Our school house—now there was a place, a place where we first started to learn. When I went to school here, there were sixty or more pupils. We had two basketball teams, a football team and all sorts of competitive sports including competitive choir-singing. Oh. how my heart aches at the wealth of my memories!

As I grew older, the people turned to harvesting the sea, fishing and selling their catch to Pakehas from Auckland. From the forests, collecting of Jew's Ear fungus was started, to sell to the Chinese buyers. This was how it was.

I left home to go to college and during the school holidays I returned to find that the drift to the towns had begun. The houses and land were left there standing like empty shells with nothing inside and the drift continued until the number of inhabited houses dropped from seventeen to seven in Wainui, from eleven to three in Mahinepua and in Ngaere from twenty to two.

When I married, I went home to my village and Ngatiruamahoe, and I emerged from there a woman, leaving behind my friends, my parents and memories. Today, looking back from my home here in Wellington, I see that the school house is being closed after all these years, leaving an empty place. The electricity is in my village now, but I think it came too late.

Yes, the electric light shines brightly, but it shows up the dark corners in the houses of my people. Where are the singing voices of long ago, the teasing voices, the giggles of the young girls and the sly coughs of the young men, or the cries of pain? It is finished.

Tomorrow, when all the old folks including my own grand-parents have gone, what will become of us, my generation? Who will teach and show us the way? I can only end these thoughts with the words of the hymn: ‘There is a home, far more beautiful than this!’