Cathie Dunsford

He peka titoki e kore e whati.
A branch of the titoki tree will not break.

At the next iwi gathering, Piripi confirms reports from Tahitian Maoris working at Moruroa Atoll that the French will be resuming underground nuclear tests. The iwi are horrified and korero focuses on the effects this will have for the entire Pacific. Plans are made to set up a group to monitor the situation. Cowrie, Kuini, Mere, Irihapeti, Piripi, Hemi and Eruera are elected.
The following day, Cowrie emails Koana to confirm the reports and ask her to stay in touch on Kanaka Maoli action. The Indigenous Peoples’ Network is already buzzing with information and yet there has not yet been an official announcement from the French, who are still maintaining their neither-confirm-nor-deny tactics.
Kuini returns from a Te Aroha case at Kaitaia and after work they roast kumara over the fire with a group of women from the writers’ hui. Their meetings are only twice monthly but none of them would miss the sharing of stories for anything. They discuss possible action if the French resume tests and agree that a contingent of local iwi should sponsor a boat, possibly a waka, to protest at Moruroa, to enter the exclusion zone if necessary.
“I’d like to see women on board even though it has traditionally been men,” suggests Irihapeti. “Women have long been the peacemakers, in the war against pakeha landgrabbers and invaders, in two world wars. We have a trusted tradition of peaceful protest.”
“Yeah, if Greenpeace has a mixed crew, isn’t it time we came on board also?” Kuini points out.
All but two of the women agree. They decide to put it to the larger iwi protest group.
After the hui, Kuini, Irihapeti and Cowrie meet in the Tainui housetruck for manuka tea.
“My dream is to see a waka entirely paddled by wahine from all the Pacific Islands enter the test zone. Imagine the response. The world’s media would be hovering above in awe.”
“Yeah—and we’d have half of those missionary-sodden Tahitians, the ones indoctrinated with French Christian values, telling us we have betrayed indigenous Pacific roots. That’s not such a good idea,” adds Kuini.
“But just imagine the power of the image! That’d speak more than words.”
“It’d sure have impact!”
“Yeah, but remember that the twelve-mile exclusion zone is quite a way from the atoll. It’d be helluva rough out there and risky unless we had a support boat.”
“Like the Rainbow Warrior?”
“Maybe we should link in with the Greenpeace women as a women’s solidarity issue?”
“But that’d alienate many of the local iwi. I think we need to hear what actions are planned, then discuss where we go from there.”
“And we’re not totally sure that the tests will take place. I mean, it’s only rumour right now. None of the French have confirmed it.”
“Yeah, but since when was bush telegraph wrong on these issues? I trust the fellas at Moruroa. Most of the Maohi working there hate the nuclear test site but know it’s the only way they can feed their families while the French remain. Maybe this’ll be the turning point?”
Cowrie lights up the gas cooker for a second round of the sweet fragrant tea. She takes several sprigs of manuka flowers and leaves, and places them in the bottom of the clay pot, ready for the boiling water to seep through.
“Well, I don’t think we should abandon the idea yet. Let’s keep it brewing huh?” Iri suggests.
They sip their manuka tea, letting it seep into their blood. The moon hangs high above the dunes and a lone ruru call spikes the night air with its echo.

Cathie Dunsford is the author of five novels Cowrie, The Journey Home, Manawa Toa, Song of the Selkies and Ao Toa, four of which have been translated in Turkish and German. She lives in Aotearoa / New Zealand and the Orkneys.

From: Manawa Toa
pp 25-27

Website: http://www.spinifexpress.com.au