Can we talk about something, koutou? This marae in Australia.
What the fuck?
Before immediately jumping into this with anger and frustration, let’s have a look at the timeline and facts. The Sydney Marae Alliance (SMA) is a group of tangata who’ve spent the past 30 odd years proposing a plan for there to be a marae placed into the hallowed grounds of First Nations People. With an estimated 150,000 Māori within Australia, there seems to be a desire for a place for them to go. Their argument is “well, we’ve never had a place to call home.”
While I can’t pretend that I have any idea what that feels like, I would like to pose this statement: if we build on land that isn’t ours, aren’t we doing what we’re fighting against? I genuinely think that the intent is pure, and I’m certain that they think what they’re doing is right. But before we go through with any of this, can we recognise the genocide of First Nations People?
Once a proud people, they were stripped of their land, accolades, and any respect that the Crown ever recognised. They are fighting tooth and nail to be recognised as people – to be allowed more space than the ashy ground and sad camps set up to house them. We, as Māori people, understand the desire to have our land back just as viciously as they do – but yet, here we are, taking more land then they’ve got.
Where’s the tikanga, where’s the mana? I want to know why we think we have the right to go to this place and build upon what isn’t ours. Do the SMA not see the irony in the decision they’re made?
Let’s expand a bit further. This build is intended to cost a whopping $4m, and will take up 15 hectares. This is an huge amount of land, and a fuck load of money. As I sit here reading more about the intent and Māori living in Australia arguing for the need, I feel anger. Not anger at them, mind you – anger at a system that has pushed so many from their homes for better opportunities. It’s idealistic to think that we can live in a non-capitalist society, but it’s depressing as to watch Aotearoa allow her people to leave in search of jobs and lives that take them from the poverty line and streets that should support the tangata whenua.
Obviously, much like all race relations, this is a larger kōrero that needs to be had, but the base stays the same. Why are we taking land that isn’t ours? We’ve been here, doing the mahi in Aotearoa to reclaim what was taken from us so long ago. That’s our privilege, being able to fight back and try to take back what was ours. We have the capacity and numbers to do so. First Nations people do not; so let’s fucking stop with claim and ownership.
Pull back and stop being dickheads. It’s not our land, and it never will be.
Whakatauki of the week
E iti noa ana, nā te aroha.
A small ordinary thing, begotten by love.
Ask a Whaea
Tēnā koe Whaea. So I got a bit of food patai, but I can’t help but have flat frybread. I’ve tried everything but just can I have some advice? – Flatbready03
Āe e kare, cheers for the patai. Honestly, frybread has always been a difficult one to master, but here’s a few tips and tricks I’ve picked up over the years that I’m happy to share.
My aunties always said the dough should be wet. If you think it’s TOO wet, then it’s not wet enough. Personally, I hate the feeling of the dough between my fingers, but it does help a lot.
Add a teaspoon more sugar with the yeast, and the water should be a little warm. If you put your finger in and it feels like nothing, you got it.
Use heaps of oil. Enough that ¾ of the dough is covered. Don’t drown them.
Trial and error, e hoa. Take your time and don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s honestly just bread at the end of the day. Make sure you clean as you go, that dough will stick to absolutely everything.
Want a question answered by our Whaea? Email whaea@nexusmag.co.nz
