Tēnā tātau kua huhui mai nei ki te tautoko i te kaupapa kotahi. Kia whawhai mō ngā
oranga o ngā tāngata ki uriuri. We are Ngā Hinepūkōrero. And we are a
spoken word group that talk about Māori injustice as well as other political issues going on
within our country. We are here to show support for the Black Lives Matter movement and the
poem we are about to share with you talks about the importance of our voices as well
as the importance of our language, Te Reo Māori. So I hope you get to take something
away from this piece. Nga mihi.
Te Reo Māori is the native language of our country,
Passed down from generation to generation, Over a single century it almost vanished from
a law that suppressed the sound of it in schools, Kids were bruised by their teachers knuckles
for speaking it on the playground, This was their way of delivering us from our
wayward state, They viewed our language as the head of a
snake, Deemed useless because it wasn’t written
on paper, It wasn’t long until we were forced to speak
in silence, Our kaumatua - NO grandparents - lives were
stained in blues and purples, English fingers slithering around their necks,
Subdued until their sentences were laced with shame,
Choking on blood and pride, I can hear their screams,
I’ve never heard them speak, Nowadays being fluent in Te Reo Māori is
a privilege, I’ve been told how lucky I am to have it
as my first language, To speak patterns into the air,
Over time it has lost its ability to fly, Language separated from tongue,
Like root from tree, So we tuck harakeke - No flax - into our cheeks,
Stick the fibres between our teeth, Let them knit together in our breath,
For if I stay silent my tupuna - NO ancestors - will find a way to pry my jaws open,
My nana couldn’t speak, She was beaten till her jaw was broken,
Used the pieces to raise our family, I speak teachings of broken bones,
Because no one else in my family could, So tell us to be quiet,
And we’ll breathe life into ancestors we haven't met,
Tell stories of a past submerged in bleach, Legacy lives on in our voices,
You can’t take them away from us, I hate forgetting,
Had to teach myself the prayers - NO karakia - my parents didn’t learn,
Had to over-pronounce my words, So the condensed history within each syllable
is heard, We learnt not to forget,
But to hide, In our whispers,
Keeping our culture alive in the bottom of our lungs,
We drowned our reo in the depths of our stomachs, Stitched it into our clothes,
So tell us to be quiet, And know that we won’t,
This is our language, We are reclaiming it,
We will speak it, Because our bodies weren’t built for silence,
We will speak it, Until every ear drum is bruised,
We speak it, For every person that was beaten into silence,
We will speak it, For every person that was never taught,
We will speak it, We will speak it,
We will speak, Māku tēnei reo e kawe,
Ma tōku arero ngā kupu o ōku tūpuna e whakatīnana,
Kia maumahara ai tō rātou nei mataora, Kia kore rātou e koroheketia,
Ko wai koe ki te whānako i te poutāwha o ō mātou nei tupuna,
Patu a kiri, Rere a toto,
Anei rā o mokopuna e tahuna te ahi, Hei te po,
Hei te ao, Anei ra ngā whenua i morehurehu i oku tūpuna,
Ki ngā kino o te pakeha, Tēnei tōku reo,
E haruru ana, I te whenua.