He Kākano Ahau

Under the guidance of two uri of Ngāti Whātua, I was able to visualise the land beneath my feet for the first time, and think more about how we keep our history alive in a concrete jungle.By Kahu KutiaFor episode four of He Kākano Ahau I've come to Tāmaki Makaurau. I've never really liked it here, but I've come anyway to learn more about the history beneath the concrete. Ngarimu Blair is one of the many uri of Ngāti Whātua who live in Auckland city. He is a director for Whai Rawa, the commercial branch of the iwi. He has agreed to show me some of the significant kōrero in the puku of Tāmaki Makaurau. Over an hour we circle round a couple of city blocks, and Ngarimu weaves for me a history that allows me to finally see the land I'm standing on.We're standing in a parking lot beneath the university law school in central Auckland, staring quietly at a brick wall. Ngarimu points to a small hole in the bricks, where water is slowly dripping into a tiny pool. For many years this spring has been concealed here, not known to many. This is Te Wai Ariki, a puna that was once a popular water source for Ngāti Whātua."When the settlers arrived we used to sell the water to the ships coming in until one day where there was too many," Ngarimu tells me.Usually when we talk about Māori in the city, we're talking about Māori who aren't from there. But what we often forget is that beneath the concrete, the city is Māori land too. As Ngarimu showed me around, streets became pathways, hills became pā, and Queen Street became a valley that drives an underground stream out towards the sea. It's predicted that there will be two million people in Auckland by 2025. The challenge for Ngāti Whātua is how they keep their history alive, and how they advance the legacy left for them by previous generations.At Ōrākei Marae, Hana Maihi is one of the many young people of Ngāti Whātua thinking about their aspirations for the future. In the late 70s, young activist Joe Hawke and his contemporaries successfully protected Takaparawha or Bastion Point from being turned into suburban development. We talked about what it is our generation is prepared to fight for. Episode four is about being Māori in the city. Under the guidance of two uri of Ngāti Whātua, I was able to visualise the land beneath my feet for the first time, and think more about how we keep our history alive in a concrete jungle.Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

I have a hunch that the city might provide something unique to our people. This episode is about decolonising gender and sexuality in Wellington city.By Kahu Kutia I'm sitting by the window in a flat in Te Aro, Wellington. Opposite me is Kayla Riarn, she's pushing cigarette smoke out the window with a black lace fan. "You go to any marae you see one of us whakawahine. We're in the kitchen. We're with the aunties. We are workers. We don't argue about things on a marae. We get up and we do it. And we're respected for it... Since I've been in Wellington I have worked in eight marae, as sole chef. I don't get questioned."In this episode of He Kākano Ahau I'm talking to those who are decolonising gender and sexuality in Wellington city. Whakawahine might loosely translate as "trans woman", but more importantly it's a term that also takes into account Kayla's whakapapa Māori. After all in te ao Māori, whakapapa is usually the first level of our identity.Over a kapu tī, Kayla traces for me her whakapapa back into Taranaki maunga. She tells me that she had to find a lot of this out by herself. Her whānau moved to Tawa shortly after she was born. She's been in inner Wellington since the 70s.When colonising forces came to the Pacifc there was a lot that changed for all of our cultures. Perhaps some of the biggest changes came with the introduction of the bible, which squashed out any ideas of sexuality and gender that weren't cisgender and heterosexual. In te ao Māori today there is a heavy gender binary. Ira wahine, ira tāne. They are still significant, but perhaps not as rigid as some may think.It's a story that I don't think has ever been explored in enough detail. After exploring the history, I also wanted to talk to someone of my own generation who could speak to these experiences. I went to see Ariki Brightwell, who's 30 years old. She grew up in Tūranga-nui-ā-Kiwa and came to Wellington to study at Massey. Today, Ariki is an artist and kaihautū for the waka that sit on the Wellington waterfront. Unlike Kayla, Ariki felt a lot of support from her whānau through her transition. Ariki also had good perspective on our history."What I've learnt from some of our kaumātua is that our people have always experimented or dived into our sexuality especially our gender - you know - that's one of the main parts of our culture. It's displayed on our carvings, the ure the teke on our carvings, the form of a person on our carvings," says Ariki…Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

For this episode I went to Ōtautahi, Christchurch where we're looking at what it's like to move to the city today. From many perspectives, Christchurch seems a hard place to be Māori.By Kahu Kutia What defines the current generation of rangatahi Māori? Some might call us millennials, the first generation to be born fluent in digital technology.Some might call us the kōhanga and kura kaupapa generation. Many of our parents and kaumātua were punished in school for speaking Te Reo. But some of us were the first to taste our language again and to bring it back to life.We were raised on stories of resistance. Bastion Point. Springbok Tour. Te Matakite Māori Land March. Foreshore Seabed. Tūhoe Raids. Dawn Raids. Raglan. Pākaitore. We look to Māui-tikitiki-ā-Taranga for guidance. The trickster, the pōtiki. With the legacy of our tīpuna in front of us, we walk backwards into the digital era.Many of us now live in the city, and are redefining what it means to be urban and Māori. Maybe we're learning Te Reo through an app. Maybe we're driving home once a month to spend time at our marae. Maybe we're reviving the hidden history of the whenua beneath the concrete. Maybe we're just looking for a place to be Māori.For this episode of He Kākano Ahau I went down to Ōtautahi, Christchurch. In the first episode, we learned about the first generation to transition from rural to urban Māori. In this episode, we're looking at what it's like to move to the city today.From many perspectives, Christchurch seems a hard place to be Māori. TVNZ's That's A Bit Racist documentary commissioned Harvard University to research racism in New Zealand. The results weren't great for the whole country, but the south came out particularly badly with 89 per cent of South Islanders saying they favoured Pākehā over Māori, compared to 63 percent in the North Island.The South Island is where Kiwa Kahukura-Denton has lived for most of his life. Kiwa moved to Ōtautahi this year. Like many of us, Kiwa has moved to the city to study. He's at Te Ora Hou studying to be a youth worker. Kiwa and I talk about loneliness, staying connected, and what he hopes to create for rangatahi Māori."A system where Māori is normal, Māori is standard you know it isn't that one house for kapa haka it isn't te reo class it isn't the whānau class it isn't when someone flash come to the school and you have a pōwhiri for them it's just normal and it's okay that its normal and they don't have to feel whakama about being Māori or seeing things a Māori way or saying karakia when they need to say karakia."…Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

When I came to the city I needed ground to stand on. That turanga waewae became Tapu Te Ranga Marae, tucked away in Island Bay, Wellington. You would have never seen a marae quite like this.By Kahu Kutia I grew up where the tarseal on the road crumbles away into loose rock and dust. On a clear day, if you stand at the opening of the valley, you can follow the hills all the way to Maungapōhatu in the distance. With my awa beside me, and my marae just down the road, I was able to locate my place in the world.For most of my life, this was all that I knew. But four years ago I moved to Wellington.The first great migration of Māori happened when our ancestors came across Te Moana-Nui-ā-Kiwa to Aotearoa. But I think there's a second migration that is just as important. In the 20th century, Māori moved from being 85 percent rural, to 85 percent urban.Today we don't really think of ourselves as urban people, and yet most of our people now live in the city.In the 60s and 70s there was increasing awareness for a generation who was urban and Māori. Ngā Tama Toa were in there, organising te reo classes in flats in the city, and pushing the government on Māori issues.Many of these young people had grown up as a product of "pepperpotting", a policy employed by the Department of Māori Affairs to place Māori families amongst Pākehā families in the better suburbs of Auckland and Wellington. The goal was to assimilate Māori families into a Pākehā way of life. But the urban drift of our people came with a number of challenges. Many came to the city under the promise of jobs, and upon arrival found they were the last to be considered. It was during this time that we saw a number of Māori, particularly men, turn to gangs for a sense of community. These were whole generations who were unable to find jobs, cut off from home, and often alone in the city without any support network.When I came to the city I needed ground to stand on. That tūranga waewae became Tapu Te Ranga Marae, tucked away in Island Bay, Wellington. You would have never seen a marae quite like this. The levels of Tapu Te Ranga Marae climbed up the hillside like a tātarāmoa vine. A treehouse of your wildest dreams.Tapu Te Ranga was built by gang members and displaced people of all kinds in the early 70s. It was a dream brought to life by Bruce Stewart after he read an article in Māori publication Te Ao Hou.This is the starting point of our podcast, He Kākano Ahau. In a place not only special to me, but a place that has been a home away from home for hundreds of people…Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

I think it's natural that a family, Māori and non-Māori, always has mysteries to uncover, whether or not you grew up knowing your whānau history, knowing your whakapapa or not.By Kahu KutiaI'm sitting in a van, on the side of the road. It's a grey day on the edge of rain and we're all wrapped up in beanies, scarves, jackets and thick socks. To my left is a marae, it's windows shut and the paepae empty. To my right is an urupā.As I sit in the van, I watch three people stand outside the urupā for a bit then eventually work up the courage to unlatch the gate and make their way in. What I'm witnessing is Geneva Alexander-Marsters visit the graves of her kuia and uncle for the first time. She's accompanied by her father and her half-brother.We brought Geneva into this kaupapa to make music for our stories. As the kōrero evolved, we found out that Geneva had never visited her marae. It was something she had always wanted to do before she turns 30.For this episode, Geneva agreed to take me on the road with her. I don't think either of us knew what we were getting into. More than anything I hoped this journey would bring answers for Geneva. Her dad Daniel was an important part of the journey, but hard to track down. In the 20th century, the Māori population went from 85 percent rural to 85 percent urban. State uplift, employment, and land alienation are just a few of the many reasons that we came to the city in the first place. Geneva's own disconnection stemmed from her father, who was uplifted by the state following the death of his mother. Geneva is candid about her father's time in boys homes."If you want to talk about a systematic disenfranchisement of indigenous people they're part of that stolen generation."What I didn't anticipate was how important the return would be for Daniel as well. This wasn't Daniel's first time here, but it's a place of traumatic memories for him. He's spent most of his life in the city. Like Daniel, Geneva learned about te ao Māori from other places."We're urban Maori in the city but that doesn't mean that you're lost," says Geneva. "When that knowledge is taken away from you, you make do with what you have."All that Geneva knew was a few names. I always felt that this journey would be a success even if we just stood on the whenua where she was from. We were heading up the coast with a few names, a few patchy memories, and no kuia to call Geneva in…Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

Thousands of supporters from Aotearoa and the world have been hosted at Ihumātao. For those who protect the land it has become more than a Māori issue.By Kahu KutiaIt's an interesting time to be indigenous. Or is that what every generation says? Every day when I open my phone I see a new reason to be angry, to be disappointed, to believe that humanity is headed down a slippery path into climate destruction.Mauna Kea, Djab Wurrung, Unist'ot'en, Standing Rock. Four examples in a never-ending stream of indigenous struggles to protect significant whenua. In Aotearoa, Ihumātao is the latest in a long line of iconic Māori resistance movements. The resistance at Ihumātao began when 32 hectares of land in Mangere was designated as a Special Housing Area and purchased by Fletcher Building. This was land originally stolen by the Crown. Six cousins formed a movement to protect their land, a place of significance to the culture and heritage of Aotearoa.A friend of mine recently shared an observation of the world. She said she felt that the universe is calling our generation out. For so long we have admired the work that our elders did for us, the land march, Bastion Point, foreshore and seabed. She said to me that it seemed the universe is telling us its our turn to stand up for our beliefs.When police issued an eviction notice to protectors at Ihumātao, I was a ball of anxiety for two straight days. Thinking back on what my friend said, I knew the only way I might be calm again was to visit Ihumātao myself.We all turned up to the whenua with berets and statement shirts and flags in solidarity with mana whenua who want their land returned to them. The waiata Rua Kenana rang out across the land over and over again. I watched as every idol I ever had in te ao Māori came and went from the whenua .While this struggle has constantly been painted as generational, the reality on site is that the resistance at Ihumātao is supported by whānau from all generations of the local hapū as well as kaumātua at Makaurau Marae.Thousands of supporters from Aotearoa and the world have been hosted at Ihumātao in the time since. Ihumātao has become more than a Māori issue. For those who protect the land, Ihumātao is also a health issue, a wellbeing issue, a climate change issue, a heritage and culture issue, a human rights issue.This episode is about what it takes to build an indigenous resistance movement. I spent time at Ihumātao before and after the eviction notice was served to protectors. Pania Newton, who has become the face of this struggle, was honest with me about the tolls of fighting for her whānau land. But in the end, it's all worth it…Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

In this podcast series, host Kahu Kutia challenges the assumption that to be urban and Māori means to be disconnected from your culture.He Kākano Ahau is a podcast written, researched, and hosted by Ngāi Tūhoe writer, activist, and young person Kahu Kutia. Kahu now lives in Wellington after spending the first 18 years of her life in the valleys of Te Urewera.Over six episodes, Kahu explores stories of Māori in the city, weaving together strands of connection. At the base is a hunch that not all of us who live in the city are disconnected from te ao Māori. Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

The second season explores stories that are firmly rooted in our past to magically dream about the futures we want to create for ourselves.May we boundlessly dream of possibilities beyond our wildest imaginations. May we weave communities of support, compassion and active solidarity. With our history in front of us, and our tūpuna at our shoulders, may we walk into a future that is connected and thriving for us all.He Kākano Ahau: Wawatatia is the second season from the team that brought you the Voyager award-winning podcast series He Kākano Ahau: Urban and Māori. In this season, we move our focus firmly into the future, engaging our kaikōrero in conversations that help us radically re-imagine how the future might look. Weaving together elements of interview, narration, music and poetry, we build a whare in which we can all wānanga our visions. From Tāmaki Makaurau to Motupōhue, Kahu Kutia asks how we might think about the future, and what we need to get there. She explores and weaves stories that are firmly rooted in our past, and hopeful about the futures we can create for ourselves.He Kākano Ahau: Wawatatia is a 7 episode series, including 2 episodes in te reo Māori. Our target audience is young Māori, but we hope the stories make space for everyone to listen in.Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

We're in Te Whanganui-a-Tara to meet three wāhine who work with taonga puoro. We ask why these taonga almost disappeared and what their dreams are for the future of the practice.In episode one, we're in Te Whanganui-a-Tara to meet three wāhine who work with taonga puoro (traditional Māori musical instruments). We ask why these taonga almost disappeared and what their dreams are for the future of the practice.Episode one of He Kākano Ahau: Wawatatia expands upon the common misconceptions of the roles that atua wāhine played in our pūrākau and origin narratives, both of taonga puoro and other instruments of traditional Māori existence.The members of Maianginui discuss the challenges involved when carving out spaces for wāhine Māori in music and the various other art communities.It is apparent that there is still mahi needed surrounding the erasure of atua wāhine and wāhine Māori in te ao hurihuri. It is an episode that speaks to the mana of wāhine and the continual results of collective radical dreaming and imagining. This podcast is proof of what can happen when we dream and continue dreaming together for each other.by Briar PomanaThere's not much that can't be fixed with a good cup of tea and a chat with the Aunties. A kitchen table with an assortment of slices and a few sprawled packets of biscuits is a common occurrence in ngā kainga Māori.Women with loud laughs and tales that stretch over the entire afternoon bring with them comfort and languages rarely heard elsewhere. This is very much the vibe of He Kākano Ahau: Wawatatia episode one.Khali Materoa, Ruby Solly, Ariana Tikao and Te Kahureremoa Taumata make up the taonga puoro collective, Maianginui. Their mahi revolves around reclaiming and re-centring mana wāhine and atua wāhine, many of whom have been disregarded or forgotten altogether as a direct result of colonisation.Episode One begins with three of these wāhine as they take listeners on a journey of meditation and re-indigenisation through the art of whakapapa, storytelling and taonga puoro. So we begin the season in Te Whanganui-a-Tara where Maianginui, formed in 2020, are decolonising the way we interpret many of our pūrākau and narratives using and surrounding taonga puoro.These traditional instruments made from wood, stone, clay, bone and other naturally derived materials were once habitually used for a range of purposes until the 1907 Tohunga Suppression Act brought about their near disappearance. …Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

We meet three people working in different ways to revive and reclaim mātauranga Māori within a modern context.In episode two, we meet three people working in different ways to revive and reclaim mātauranga Māori within a modern context.by Briar PomanaTaonga tuku iho is an intrinsically Māori approach to life and whakapapa, a process in which through a multitude of mediums can both empower and heal. As Māori, we stand on the shoulders of our tīpuna and carry their knowledge forward.Episode two of He Kākano Ahau: Wawatatia looks deeper into practices and taonga that may have been left behind in our histories. It engages and opens wānanga with artists, activists and communities that every day, are unlocking parts of themselves that have previously been shunned from the light as a direct result of colonisation.Host Kahu Kutia takes listeners deep into the ancestral land of Mātaatua waka with friends Lanae Cable and Sarah Hudson, two of three artists who make up the decolonial research collective Kauae Raro, and then further down the country to Te Whanganui-a-Tara to meet Jayden Rurawhe, an uri of Te Rarawa iwi and co-director of the show He Tangata.Kauae Raro is nothing short of magical. On their Instagram, images of earthy tones and pigments in various jars and mixtures are a feast for the eyes. It is with these traditional whenua-derived colours that researchers and artivists Lanae Cable, Sarah Hudson and Jordan Davey-Emms are relearning, returning and creating with the materials of their tīpuna, directly from the taiao.The pigment kokowai, found in clay or rocks, comes in a variety of shades most often tinged red-brown. For some, the pūrākau of Hineahuone and Tāne comes to mind. This narrative may then lead to ideas around beginnings, birth, deepness and space, conceivably thoughts of life, land, and love. Kokowai for others is simply hardened mud and rock.All of these ideas, say the collective, were shared by the people walking these lands centuries ago."It was used by our tūpuna as art-making material, in ceremony, to rongoa. Sunblock to keep sandflies off. For painting. There were also beautiful practices of adornment, like makeup - painted cheeks, foreheads, lips, bodies, whole bodies. Sometimes you can see kapa haka roopu have a red, sometimes that's kokowai."Communities such as Kauae Raro are working to reconnect with the land and with each other. Walking and touching together they are animations of their ancestors in the purest forms and this reclamation is happening everywhere in Aotearoa.Kahu explores this journey with Jayden Rurawhe as their theatre show He Tangata ushers in Wellington Pride…Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

In an episode that is close to Kahu's heart, we talk about how mātauranga Māori might help us find solution and understanding on the topic of suicide.Content warning: Includes discussion of suicide and mental health.In an episode that is close to Kahu's heart, we talk about how mātauranga Māori might help us find solutions and understanding on suicide prevention, hope and community. Episode three emerges, much as everything does, from within Te Pō.by Briar PomanaAhi Kōmau - the eternal flame, the deep-rooted fires such as those found in volcanoes and with our atua Rūaumoko. Back in the day, our tīpuna would bury the ashes of their fires in the ground and even when the people who had lit them had shifted and moved on across the land, the buried ashes continued to burn. When the time came, upon their return, the ahi kōmau were unearthed and re-distributed upon a new flame and the fire would dance strongly and burn bright once again.The kaikōrero of this episode of He Kākano Ahau are similar to ngā ahi kōmau. They are that spark and breathe of hope onto a buried flame.Beginning in the big smoke, Kahu Kutia travels between Tāmaki Makaurau and Te Urewera to speak to people working in the realm of mental health and whānau Māori, specifically people working closely with the taniwha that is whakamōmori.Rikki Solomon, an embalmer and funeral director based in Tāmaki Makaurau is researching and applying traditional mātauranga to his practice. He draws reference from the maramataka Māori, the study of the moon and stars in relation to how these influence human behaviour, actions and spirit."What we teach is whānau to find their balance in both of these worlds, '' says Solomon. "Then how healing and empowering it can be to reclaim that maramataka Māori. Certainly, for myself in the last three years, it changed my life really. To understand and be empowered when you're feeling certain ways on certain days."New Zealand has among the highest rates of youth suicide in the world. According to the 2020 Unicef Innocenti report card we come in at number two of the countries deemed 'developed' for suicide among youth aged 15-19.New Zealand's high record of youth suicide is well known. According to the 2020 Unicef Innocenti report card New Zealand comes in number two on the table of countries deemed 'developed' for suicide rate among youth aged 5-19. The data shows that over a three year period, per 100,000 adolescents, there were 14.9 deaths linked to suicide.Figures released by the Ministry of Health in 2019-2020 reveal rangatahi Māori are overrepresented within these statistics.Most whānau are all too aware of these staggering statistics…Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

We learn about traditional kai harvest practices as Mere Skerrett prepares for the imminent tītī harvest season in in Murihiku Southland. This episode is in Te Reo Māori.This episode in Te Reo Māori asks how we might uphold Māori traditions for the wellbeing of the people and the environment. We learn about traditional kai harvest practices as Mere Skerrett prepares for the imminent tītī harvest season in Murihiku Southland.Te Reo Māoriby Kahu KutiaKia wawatatia e tātou te pae tawhiti. Kia tuituia e tātou he ao e ū ana ki te manaakitanga, ki te aroha, ki te kotahitanga. Ka mua, ka muri, ki te ao whai oranga. Ko He Kākano Ahau: Wawatatia te kaupapa e whai ake nei.Kia hoki tātou ki ngā tikanga ā ngā tīpuna; kia whakatipungia e tātou he kai nā te māra, kia whaia e tātou te maramataka. Kia tika ngā mahi i te wao. Kia hono atu ki te whenua, ki te wai hei oranga mā tātou katoa. Ko te motuhaketanga o te kai tētahi kaupapa ka kaha rangona i ngā hapū me ngā iwi puta noa i te motu.E whai ana tēnei wāhanga o He Kākano Ahau i te pātai, ka pēhea te mahinga kai e poipoi i te ahurea Māori? Ka tae atu a Kahu Kutia ki Waihōpai te kōrero atu ki a Mere Skerrett, tōna kaiako i a ia i te kōhanga reo. Kei te whakarite a Mere ki te rapu tītī. Kua ngahuru te whenua i te tonga o Te Waipounamu, ā, ka kōrerohia e Kahu rāua ko Mere ngā kōrero tuku iho e pā ana ki te mahinga kai.Ko tā Mere, ehara ēnei mahi i te mea rapu kai noa iho. E manawa nui ana ia ki ngā āhuatanga o te tītī."He mīharo ngā manu tītī. Ka taea te ruku kaimoana kia rapu kai. Nō reira ko ngā tītī, koira te take o te whakataukī "Kia manawa tītī". Kia pērā i te tītī, kia tino kaha ki te whai atu i tōu e hiahia ana."Ka tū te wāhanga rapu tītī mai i te 1 o Paengawhāwhā, tae atu ki te 31 o Haratua. Ko tēnei te wā e taea ana e ngā whānau o tēnei rohe te haere atu ki ngā moutere ki te rapu, ki te nanao i ēnei manu. I ngā wā o mua, ka tukuna ngā manu ki te pōhā, he pēke ka hangaia ki te rimurapa, ki te harakeke, ki te tōtara anō hoki. Inaianei, ka tukuna ki te pākete kē. Mai i ngā pākete ka tukuna ki ngā whānau puta noa i te motu e hiakai ana ki tēnei kai rangatira.Ko tā Mere, e hāngai ana te reo rapu tītī ki te tirohanga taketaketake o tōna iwi. Ko Mere tētahi e whakapau kaha ana ki ngā mahi whakarauora reo, ā, ka tino ū ōna whakaaro ki te whakarauora reo i roto i ngā mahinga kai…Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

In this episode, Kahu engages in wānanga with two kaikōrero advocates who are reimagining justice in Aotearoa - Awatea Mita and Emmy Rakete.Content warning: Includes discussion of prisons, psychological and physical abuse.In this episode, Kahu engages in wānanga with two kaikōrero advocates who are reimagining justice in Aotearoa - Awatea Mita and Emmy Rakete. It's a tough listen, especially for whānau Māori, but understanding where we are and where we've come from is necessary to begin planning for where we will go. Corrections comment in full.Reimagining Justiceby Briar PomanaIn pre-colonial Aotearoa, prisons were essentially non-existent. Traditional Māori society mainly revolved around whakapapa, whānau and kawanatanga.In fact, the first prisons in Aotearoa were filled by Pākehā. Today, due to overpopulation and over-representation of Māori in prisons, most whānau Māori can name at least one whānaunga inside behind bars.Delving deeper into these overwhelming statistics, episode five of He Kākano Ahau traces the history of prisons in Aotearoa and the continual failure of these institutes, especially for whānau Māori.Although Māori only account for around 17% of the general population of New Zealand, there is a disproportionate number of Māori in penal institutions across the country. Māori make up 52.9% of the prison population according to September 2020 statistics from Ara Poutama / Department of Corrections.Knowing what it looks and feels like to operate within a prison and the judicial system, Awatea Mita (Ngāti Porou, Ngāti Pikiao, Ngai Te Rangi) does a lot of mahi in and around prisons, specifically with wāhine Māori. Having been previously incarcerated herself, she recounts arriving and looking around at the other women in prison, only to be met back with eyes similar to her own, those of wāhine Māori."As Māori women, as the most marginalised community in this country, brought up under that cloak of colonisation that has a purpose of ensuring that you for one don't know your rights and if you do, that you're not going to fight for them. That's how that system can continue to be self-constituting and perpetuates itself because there's no one there to challenge it."Fighting for this community and for these people is what Emmy Rakete, an uri from Ngapuhi, Te Rarawa and Ngā Kaimahi o Te Ao, does daily.Whether this is with others from the organisation PAPA (People Against Prisons Aotearoa) or as a PhD student writing about the history of prisons, and their correlation with capitalism…Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

In the second of our reo-based episodes, we talk about the challenges that come with learning te reo as a second language.In the second of our reo-based episodes, we talk about the challenges that come with learning te reo as a second language.Te Reo Māori By Kahu KutiaKia wawatatia e tātou te pae tawhiti. Kia tuituia e tātou he ao e ū ana ki te manaakitanga, ki te aroha, ki te kotahitanga. Ka mua, ka muri, ki te ao whai oranga. Ko He Kākano Ahau: Wawatatia te kaupapa e whai ake nei.I te tau 2019 i whakaputaina e te kāwanatanga tā rātou whāinga kia kotahi miriona ngā tāngata reo Māori hei te tau 2040. He wawata nui, ā, he mīharo te whakaaro ki te ao e pērā ana. Te ao e kite ana i te katoa e whakamana i tēnei reo hei reo kōrero, hei waka anō hoki e kawea ana i ngā tikanga tūturu o tātou te Māori.Heoi anō, te uaua te ara ki tō reo inā he Māori koe e ako ana i tēnei reo hei reo tuarua. I tēnei wāhanga o He Kākano Ahau, ka tūtaki tātou ki tētahi tokorua i ako i te reo Māori ahakoa tā rāua whakatipuranga reo Pākehā noa iho. Ka kōrerotia e mātou ngā piki me ngā heke o te ara ako, me ā rāua wawata mō te whakarauoratanga o te reo Māori me te ao Māori.He kaiako a Tākuta Vincent Olsen Reeder kei te whare wānanga o Te Herenga Waka. Ko ia tētahi e whakaako ana i ngā tauira e tae atu ki te whare wānanga ki te ako i te reo Māori, Māori mai, tauiwi mai. Waihoki, ko te marae o Te Herenga Waka te marae tuatahi i whakaekea e ia. I taua wā, i whakapono ana a Vini ki te whakaaro, ko ia anake te Māori kaore e taea te kōrero Māori."I mua i taku haeretanga mai ki te whare wānanga nei, kāre ōku reo, kāre ōku mōhio ki ngā tikanga Māori. Ka mutu, i taua wā, kāre anō au kia ruku ki te ao Māori."E hāngai ana tēnei wāhanga o He Kākano Ahau ki ngā āhuatanga o te whakamā, me ngā uauatanga o te ara kia tangata whenua anō ai tō reo Māori. I ētahi wā, kāore e taea te whai pūtea, kāore e taea te whai wā. Anō hoki, ka whakapuaki ngā āhuatanga o te tāmitanga ki a tātou i a tātou e ako ana.Ko tēnei tētahi o ngā kaupapa kōrero i te taenga mai o He Kākano Ahau ki Tāmaki Makaurau. I kōrero a Kahu Kutia ki a Te Aweawe Ruawai, he kaimahi hāpai rangatahi kei te pokapū o te taone."This is also a big problem for a lot of our tauira, they're very similar to me. They're very dissociated from their haukāinga, they feel whakamā that they don't know their reo, or their tikanga."Ka huri pērā hoki ngā whakaaro o Vini."Kāore au i hiahia hoki atu ki taku marae. Nā runga i te pōhēhē, ko au anake te Māori, kāore i kōrero Māori ana. I whakapono au ki tēnā…Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

In the final episode of He Kākano Ahau, we explore intergenerational visions, whakapapa, and future aspirations with a māmā-daughter duo, and a Māori futurist.In the final episode of He Kākano Ahau, we explore intergenerational visions, whakapapa, and future aspirations with a māmā-daughter duo, and a Māori futurist.By Briar PomanaCan you imagine how wildly our tīpuna dreamed?It's evident when we look back and re-examine all those pūrākau, whether this is through our own whānau whakapapa or stories we've heard growing up peeling spuds at the back with the cousins or around the table with our aunties and nannies.It is in these bursts of laughter, tall tales and often floods of tears we are living, breathing, playful ripples of all those we come from who dared to dream and all those who are yet to come.This is what He Kākano Ahau: Wawatatia is all about. A podcast of dreams and radical hope in a future that is inclusive, joyful, intimate and full of those moments in between.When preparing for this season, all the mātauranga and stories felt almost too massive to rope together.Flash forward and the people involved in this podcast, their experiences, mahi and aspirations now interwoven, have deepened the continual wānanga and given ambition to possibilities for our mokopuna. Kua raranga tahi tātou, he whārangi ipurangi mō apōapō.In this final instalment of He Kākano Ahau: Wawatatia, Kahu Kutia travels to Te Tairawhiti, to visit two women she has known since her childhood. Mother and daughter duo, Whaea Sharon and Mania Campbell-Seymour are activists from a long line of mana wāhine stretching across Te Tairawhiti, Māhia and Te Whakatōhea.Whaea Sharon, a solo mother who put herself through university and has spent the majority of her career working in education, recalls the discomfort in her university lectures and meeting rooms when conversations turned to social issues that affect Māori communities every day."I do not accept that we have an education system that pays itself billions of dollars to continue failing our tamariki at the same rate, it is absolutely criminal," Whaea Sharon says.Working within broken systems is also a field of mahi Mania is actively trying to remould. Mania is an academic, a deep thinker and a doctor.Similar to kōrero shared by Whaea Sharon, Mania recounts how alienating the medical and university space was and can be for Māori looking to enter professions like medicine.She explains how heartbreaking it is to see whānau Māori struggling to navigate medical care and exist in systems not built for them and their needs…Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details