A Carved Cloak for Tahu: A History of Ngai Tahu Matawhaiti

By Mere Whaanga

Oral histories, legends, and accounts of contemporary life of a New Zealand Maori tribe are presented in this cultural that includes colonial histories of the Native Land Court and traditional histories from the Northern Hawke's Bay.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Independent Publishers Group
• Release date: Oct 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781775580003

Book preview

Copyright

Introduction

The idea for this book first arose in 1990, when the kaumatua of Iwitea marae asked me to write our history. The framework is provided by the whakairo of Te Poho O Tahu.

It was from those whakairo that the title ‘A Carved Cloak for Tahu’ came. When Te Hore Epanaia Whaanga spoke to the people of Iwitea in the 1980s about carvings for Te Poho O Tahu, not everyone agreed. One kuia in particular was opposed because the earlier Te Poho O Tahu had not had carvings, and the current one had only kōwhaiwhai on the maihi. Whaanga’s answer was that it was ‘time the old chief had a cloak’.

Taka Panere, then based at Takitimu marae in Wairoa, was the master carver who began the work. However, he left the area before the carvings were completed, and Whaanga and Lim Robinson picked them up and took them to Iwitea. The only place large enough to hold them was the dining room, where the carvings were stored under cover for almost three years. Whaanga died in May 1986. In late 1988, following the launch of the book The Legend of the Seven Whales of Ngai Tahu Matawhaiti, the people of Iwitea decided to complete the carving project. The grandson of Arapera Kumeroa (Whaanga’s sister) had been taught to carve by Panere. Paratene (Broughton) Johnson moved back to Wairoa, and the Iwitea marae committee, trustees and kaumatua organised a carving module under the Maccess scheme. Johnson headed a group of young local men who completed the whakairo in 1989.

We tell our important stories through various art forms. This book brings together some of those arts that members of Ngai Tahu Matawhaiti

and otners of the hapū of Iwitea have used to tell our history and declare our identity – whakairo, waiata, and the written story.

Book launch at Te Poho O Tahu, August 1988.

MERE WHAANGA

I have recorded the main stories that adorn our wharenui. Te Poho O Tahu is a declaration of the hapū identity of Ngai Tahu Matawhaiti. Each time we repeat a tauparapara or waiata or tell a story, we draw upon the whakapapa, the history, the many and various links with our tīpuna. So we keep those links alive, for each naming of waka, iwi, hapū, whānau or whenua evokes an entire history.

The book covers three aspects of the kōrero about Iwitea:

Mana Whakapapa tells of our tīpuna, their journeys from Hawaiki to Aotearoa, and such of their lives as we know. We remember these tīpuna in the names of our hapū and iwi, reinforcing our blood ties by our affiliations with Ngai Tahu Matawhaiti, Ngāti Kahungunu and Ngāti Rongomaiwahine. To claim membership of these tribal groupings is to declare descent from the tīpuna for whom the iwi or hapū is named.

Mana Whenua discusses the major landholdings of the people of Iwitea. It is about obligations to as well as authority over the land, and about the way our land tenure system has changed. Included in this section are the stories of major events on our lands, and of the tīpuna who were prominent. In particular, the story of our largest landholding, Te Whakaari, is inextricably bound up with that of the prophet Te Kooti.

Mana Tangata describes the activities of our people, the stories that are part of our identity, the taonga that our tīpuna created, the faiths we have followed, and some of the issues that concern us today. The last four chapters of the book explore some of our people’s work and their ways of expressing cultural identity. The final chapter includes an account of a major issue which arose in 2000. It is a case study of how a hapū responded to a perceived threat from an outside agency, and how a resolution was achieved.

I am fortunate to have grown up on Paparatu station, and that my father Te Hore Epanaia Whaanga took me to wāhi tapu and historical sites. He told me the stories, and in his later years composed waiata that are synopses of those stories and histories. During my term as Fellow in Māori History with the Ministry for Culture and Heritage, I engaged in research that enabled me to build upon that knowledge.

There is much more that could be written about Iwitea, other whakapapa and kōrero that could be explored. As with all writing projects, some aspects of the history had to be left for future investigation because of time constraints.

I hope that this book will prove informative for those who would like to know more about Ngai Tahu Matawhaiti and the people of Iwitea. Most of all, I hope that the children and future generations of our hapū will find in the kōrero included here something to guide them towards a sense of belonging and pride in our kāinga tūturu.

Notes about methodology

Wherever possible, original or published accounts of Māori historians are included. While some of these may appear to repeat previous information, it is important that different versions are available to the reader for purposes of comparison. It has been my experience that debate about differing versions of history is much relished by our kaumātua.

Chapter Two contains a summarised version of an account of the Takitimu waka that the amateur ethnologist S. Percy Smith translated from the writings of H.T. Whatahoro. Scholars in the late twentieth century found that Smith on occasion created his own myths. However, I have included this piece because it is based on the work of a renowned Ngāti Kahungunu scholar. A comprehensive study of Whatahoro’s original manuscripts remains to be undertaken, as does an in-depth comparison and analysis of the work of other early twentieth-century ethnologists who published translations of Whatahoro’s work.

As waiata were such an important method of recording and passing on information, these often figure prominently in the narrative, particularly those concerning pre-contact history. The four volumes of Āpirana Ngata’s Nga Moteatea contain a wealth of whakapapa and traditional mātauranga. Chapters Two and Three are concluded by sections of Nga Moteatea that are pertinent to the preceding history. In some cases this is an explanation of a name with little other information; there are also quite lengthy explanations of cosmological events.

My overall intention has been to provide an accessible account of the major kōrero represented by the whakairo of Te Poho O Tahu. The foundation given to me by my father was built on by the waiata belonging to our marae. In this book I have added the results of some years of study, culminating in two years of intense research and writing while I held the Fellowship in Māori History at the Ministry for Culture and Heritage.

Acknowledgements

My heartfelt thanks go first to the kaumātua of Iwitea who asked me to do this book. It has been at times a tumultuous journey, but I have never doubted the worth of making it.

My thanks, too, to the Ministry for Culture and Heritage, particularly the History Group and other colleagues who made the Fellowship in Māori History possible and my time in Wellington enjoyable. Jock Phillips and Bronwyn Dalley – tēnā kōrua. Thanks also to Stephen Hamilton and David Green for editing the manuscript and for preparing the index.

To Manuka Henare, particular thanks for the discussions and advice on the manuscript, and your very thought-provoking perspectives. Also to my tuakana Wi Kuki Kaa, heartfelt thanks. My whānau and I took much delight in your commentary and the information and perspectives you shared with us.

I would like to acknowledge the staff of the Alexander Turnbull and National Libraries for their help, and the staff of the Tairawhiti Māori Land Court who made my research in the Land Court minute books a pleasurable time.

To my flatmates in Wellington and my ever-supportive family, thank you for the listening ear, the calming words when I needed them, and for just plain understanding when I was crushed by some particularly evocative accounts of our history.

To the staff of the Wairoa Museum, the management committees and trustees of Te Whakaari, Anewa and Whakaki 2N, the manager and staff of Paparatu Station, and Frank Ball, Hilton Collier, Rob Hayes, Gary Mayo and staff of the offices who hold the records for the incorporations and trust, many thanks for your time and help.

My thanks, too, to all the whānau of Iwitea who have helped by offering comments, information and reminiscences, either individually or at the wānanga or other hui.

Lim, Pat and Pita Robinson – the time we spent travelling around the land, the stories you shared, the memories you evoked, are very precious to me. Nigel How – your work as knowledgeable and unofficial research assistant was very much appreciated. Also to my cousin Bailee Lambert, thank you.

Ngā mihi nui ki a koutou katoa.

Te Poho O Tahu, 1989.

MERE WHAANGA

Mana Whakapapa

CHAPTER ONE

Ko Te Poho O Tahu Te Wharenui

Te Poho O Tahu – the bosom of Tahu – is the place where we gather, the most appropriate place to discuss all that is important to us, the descendants of Tahu Potiki.

There are many wharenui in the rohe of Ngāti Kahungunu ki Wairoa, and most of us have connections to more than one of them. We are used to having all our hui at a marae, where we can discuss matters of importance within our whare tipuna, surrounded by our ancestors and confident that the outcome will be influenced by them.

I must admit that I took this richness and stability of identity very much for granted. But then, while working at the Auckland War Memorial Museum, I came to know Māori who had had little contact with an ancestral house. For some this was because they had spent most of their lives in areas far from their traditional tribal lands and marae, for others it was because their wharenui had been removed from its marae and placed in a museum. I had never before considered what it must be like to be Māori and not have a marae, not have a meeting house.

Many Visitors Attend Opening of Meeting House

Over 1500 visitors attended at Iwitea on Saturday for the opening of the new meeting house by Sir Eruera Tirikatene, M.P. for Southern Maori. Many hundreds more attended from around the district to add to the importance of the occasion. The official opening function was followed by a discussion on problems affecting the Maori people and a social and dance was held in the evening. (Wairoa Star, 8 April 1963)

Te Poho O Tahu, 1956. Seated adults, left to right: Jock Paku, Te Hore Epanaia Whaanga, Te Arau Edwards, unknown,

T.N. WHAANGA

Although I grew up some distance from our marae, we went to Iwitea on many occasions. For instance, in 19561 was one of the flower girls at the wedding of one of my father’s sisters. There are photos of my aunt and uncle, and photos of the whole wedding party, but the one that is clearest in my mind shows my father – with his pipe and wearing a hat tilted just so – sitting with my mother’s aunt on the veranda. The wharenui was the old Tahu, and my aunt’s wedding was the last function held there. That wharenui was demolished soon after and the existing Te Poho O Tahu built. The current Te Poho O Tahu was formally opened on 6 April 1963. It is the fourth Tahu; the first two were raupo whare.

Most of our meetings about land are held on our marae. For instance, it is only right that the annual general meeting of the Whakaki 2N Māori Incorporation is held in Te Poho O Tahu, because this incorporation is the landholding organisation of the hapū associated with Iwitea marae, which is situated on one of the modern-day boundaries of this land. The hapū are also significant shareholders in two other Māori landholding bodies – Te Whakaari Incorporation and Anewa Trust – which often have their annual general meetings in Te Poho O Tahu. Church services are held here too – although now less frequently than in the past, when regular Ringatu, Anglican and Ratana services took place in the wharenui.

The wharenui is the most appropriate place to hold wānanga. What other house is a more appropriate setting in which to learn about whakapapa, tribal affiliations, waiata, history, the land, tikanga, kawa? The book The Seven Whales: He Pakiwaitara a Ngai Tahu Matawhaiti was launched on the marae, from which six of the seven whales, our maunga tapu, can be seen. Contemporary issues of concern to the people are also discussed here. In recent times there have been numerous meetings and discussions regarding a proposal by Westech to drill for gas on the Whakaki 2N block. This was a very contentious issue that had the potential to be deeply divisive, but within the poho of our ancestor Tahu a strategy to obtain a unified voice of the people was developed and the issues resolved.

Te Poho O Tahu, 1889. Horomona Turoa is seated,

E. R. WILLIAMS

COLLECTION, ALEXANDER

TURNBULL LIBRARY,

G 25569–1/1

And of course the wharenui is where our tūpāpaku lie. We who have descended from this ancestor, and those who have come to be members of our hapū, are brought back to the embrace of Tahu Potiki for the tangihanga, to be farewelled before being returned to the mother of all, Papatuanuku. The wharenui, then, serves as a gathering place in times of joy and celebration, times of stress and sadness. It serves as a church, a hall of council and, truly, a meeting house.

The symbolism of the meeting house and the marae

The wharenui represents the ancestor of the tribal group for whom the marae is tūrangawaewae – those who belong to that marae are all descendants of the ancestor represented by the meeting house. The koruru is the head of the ancestor, the maihi the arms, the raparapa the fingers. The porch is the roro. On entering the house, one enters into the body of the ancestor.

A further – less obvious – symbolism in Te Poho O Tahu is that the wharenui also represents the cosmos: the union of Ranginui and Papatuanuku, their separation, and the descent of all Māori from these primal parents. In some wharenui, Ranginui (the Sky-Father) and Papatuanuku (the Earth-Mother) are shown coupled on the portion of the ridge-pole that projects over the porch¹ – appropriately, the beginning of the tāhuhu which represents the main line of descent of their offspring. The symbolism remains the same with the use of the koruru which represents the eponymous ancestor of the tribal group, usually with his wife depicted immediately below. In the case of Te Poho O Tahu, the koruru is actually Matawhaiti (the other eponymous ancestor of Ngai Tahu Matawhaiti), with his wife Hine Toka. Tahu Potiki and his wife Hamo-te-Rangi are depicted on the pare above the door.

The wharenui and its marae are an area of extreme social and cultural import. Two of the fundamental concepts of Māori culture are tapu (sacred) and noa (free from tapu). The marae in front of the wharenui is a tapu place where elaborate protocols are observed in terms of tangata whenua (people of the land) and manuhiri (visitors); who may speak in this area, and in what order; and the different roles of men and women.

The interior of the wharenui is considered noa; that is, it is free from tapu. Inside there are fewer restrictions, as this area is protected by the ancestor/wharenui. The pare (door lintel) marks the place of transition between tapu and noa. The pare in carved houses has a female image as the central figure. This is a reference to the mythological account of Māui attempting to defeat death by returning to the womb of Hine-nui-te-Po. He transformed himself into a lizard, but as he was entering the vagina of Hine-nui-te-Po a fantail laughed; Hine-nui-te-Po awoke and crushed Māui. Henceforth the female genitals have been considered to have the power to remove tapu. In some early examples of pare, another layer of symbolism can be seen – the separation of Ranginui and Papatuanuku.

Matawhaiti (koruru) and Hine Toka.

MERE WHAANGA

In fully carved houses, the poupou lining the walls represent prominent ancestors of the tribal group. Te Poho O Tahu is not fully carved, but instead contains photographs of hapū members who have passed beyond the veil. The use of photographs in this manner came about for many reasons. The decline in carved wharenui in the late nineteenth century resulted from a number of factors. The decline in population caused by diseases such as influenza, the loss of land, and conflicts including both the Musket and the New Zealand Wars, resulted in smaller and often impoverished communities unable to support the construction of elaborate wharenui. There were also fewer tohunga whakairo to construct and carve wharenui whakairo. In Te Tairawhiti, Christianity was also a significant factor. Some religious leaders considered carved representations of ancestors to be idolatry, and with wharenui serving as churches in many Māori communities, a number of meeting houses had no carvings, in accordance with the new beliefs. This period coincided with the rise of photography, and by the early 1900s Māori were placing photographs of deceased relatives around the tūpāpaku at tangi, and also hanging photographic portraits within the wharenui.² This use of photographs can be seen as a logical progression from the use of carved pou to represent ancestors within the house. It was also a more inclusive adaptation of the traditional visual depiction of

whakapapa – photography became so accessible that entire whānau could be portrayed in the wharenui, whereas the carved tradition had room for only prominent ancestors.

Iwitea marae before the construction of the wharekai. Koha is hanging on the tree in front of Te Poho O Tahu.

PITA WALKER-ROBINSON

Kawa

The protocols we use on the marae are termed kawa. The word originated in the kawa/kava ceremony of Hawaiki Runga (East Polynesia), in which – according to the Tongans – women of ariki rank were entitled to take part. In Aotearoa there was no kava plant from which to make the drink, and the word kawa came to mean a set of rules for conduct at whānau, hapū and tribal gatherings.³

When manuhiri come to Iwitea, they are greeted by the call of the kaikaranga, which is usually answered by a kuia amongst the manuhiri. Both women generally include in their karanga acknowledgement of the tangata whenua/manuhiri (as appropriate) and some reference to the kaupapa of the day. In the past, the kaikaranga were generally the eldest females in the family. Young women – then and now – felt called by the tīpuna to fulfil this role. In the past, of course, most Māori people lived close to their marae, and powhiri, karanga and whaikōrero were regular and prominent occurrences in their lives. With the drift to the cities from the 1950s, many hapū members have grown away from their marae and the society that inculcated the language and traditions in new generations. Now few of our young women either feel the call to karanga or have the confidence to fulfil this vital role.

Similarly with kaikōrero⁴ – many paepae around the country are maintained by ever-decreasing numbers of kaumātua. In the mid-1980s, kaumātua Te Hore Epanaia Whaanga spoke to the men after realising that Iwitea marae was facing this situation. Some who had habitually been ‘at the back’ – workers in the kitchen and the cooks who did the hangi – were asked to come forward and be kaikōrero. Traditionally it was the eldest male in families who could whakapapa directly to Tahu Potiki and Matawhaiti who sat upon the paepae. But Māori are essentially a pragmatic people, and when circumstances make it necessary tikanga can be adapted. In the case of kaikōrero, two of those asked to come forward were a younger son (with the blessing and permission of his tuakana) and a man who had married into the Iwitea hapū. Te Hore guided these men in the art of whaikōrero and composed the necessary accompanying tauparapara and waiata.

Women kaikōrero

Iwitea’s women have the right to speak on the marae. Within recent memory two kuia spoke occasionally – Lena Kaukau and Arapera Kumeroa. Though they chose to stand upon the porch when they did so (within the roro and protection of their tipuna Tahu Potiki), they had the right to sit upon the paepae with the men. There is an awareness of this right throughout Ngāti Porou, Ngāti Rongomaiwahine and Ngāti Kahungunu. Our whakapapa include many prominent women: Rongomaiwahine of Te Mahia; Hine-Matioro of Whāngārā; Hine-i-Koia of Te Aitanga-a-Mahaki; Hine-i-Rukuhia, the grandmother of Paora Te Apatu of Wairoa; Mere-karaka of Wairoa; Mahina-a-Rangi, ancestor of the Māori Queen, Dame Te Atairangikaahu; Arapera, arikinui of Rongowhakaata in the 1830s; and, of course, Matakainga-i-te-Tihi, the eldest daughter of Tapuwae and Te Ruataumata. ‘Tapuwae made her the greatest and the highest of his children (Queen), and she was named Hei tihi. Matakainga-i-te-tihi means a face to be gazed at as the highest pinnacle.’⁵ It is because of the importance of these women – their mana, their whakapapa – that women have the right to stand upon our marae.

Women Manu kōrero

We all need to be aware of the adverse effect Christianity has had on Mana Wahine. Before Christianity the whole of the Polynesian Triangle was matriarchally based. For instance, in Tahiti the Mana Whenua was female, and the Mana Moana was male. Women made the decisions regarding the use of all the land except for the Marae reserves. Cooking was a male preserve, part of their role as Te Ahi Kā Roa. Gardening and the gathering of wild food crops was done by the women, while fishing hunting and warfare were for men only, unless necessity deemed otherwise.

The word ‘whakapapa’ could only have evolved in a matriarchal environment, as it comes from the name Papa-tuanuku, and covers far more ground than the Oxford Dictionary’s ‘genealogy’.

Words such as Mana, Ihi, and Whakapapa caused theological headaches for the missionaries, because of their pagan connotations. From Tahiti to this land the word rongo for peace was replaced by the word rangimarie, as rongo happened to be the name of the god of peace.

Then too, there are words such as ‘hapū’ (pregnancy) used to denote clan, whānau (birth) used to denote family/extended family, and whenua (land) used also to denote placenta – legacies of matriarchalism.

In 1836, when the Rev. Henry Williams held his first Church service at Whakawhitira, East Coast, he recorded his shock at the fact that of the eighteen chiefs he had asked to meet after the service, twelve of them were women! That was Ngati Porou then and now.

Ngati Kahungunu would have a similar structure until the post missionary era.

One version favoured by Takitimu of Kahungunu’s courting of Rongomai-wahine, has the man employing a lot of guile in order to win her hand. The Horouta version has Rongomaiwahine taking the initiative.

Then there were the European gun runners who had to cope with the fact that male leaders not only insisted on the presence of women, but insisted on their right to have an equal say. Te Rauparaha, of Ngati Toa always had his sister Topeora at his business meetings and readily consulted her on matters of battle tactics.

Then came the J.C. club, whose chief weapons were ‘readin writin and rithmetic’ as well as the Paipera Tapu. Cannibalism was banned as the work of Satan, and would have been psychologically substituted by the ceremony of Holy Communion. As this involves the symbolic eating of the body and blood of Christ, it is easy to understand why Christianity was readily accepted by the local leaders. Thereafter the missionaries had a field day restructuring Maori society. The supremacy of male authority was constantly justified, because ‘all of Christ’s apostles were men’. As well, did not St. Paul command, ‘Slave obey your master, woman obey your husband’?

(Wi Kuki Kaa, September 2003)

One reason given for women not to whaikōrero on the marae atea was that of protection. The marae atea is seen as a dangerous area because it is considered the domain of Tu Matauenga, atua of war. It is a place of challenge and strife. Women, because of their importance as bearers of children and therefore to the future of the tribe (whare tangata, the womb, can be literally translated as the house of the people), had to be protected. However, some of our oral histories record wahine toa – women who fought in battles.⁶

This issue is receiving considerable attention in contemporary society. It has been debated in relation to the speaking protocols for Te Marae at Te Papa Tongarewa, the national museum, and for university marae. In recent years the media has extensively covered incidents on the Waitangi marae in which people have objected to changing speaking protocols to accommodate women Prime Ministers. This is a matter of kawa, which varies from iwi to iwi, hapū to hapū.

After the powhiri and the formal protocols of meeting and greeting have concluded, the manuhiri are taken into the dining room. At this stage it is usual for a light meal or morning tea to be served. At the conclusion of hui, a hākari is held at which the foods for which the area is known are served. Iwitea’s special delicacies are eels.

The dining room at Iwitea has the Ratana symbol of the star and crescent moon – the Whetumarama – above the main entrance. This symbol represents enlightenment. The wharekai at Iwitea was named Takutaimoana te Rohe (The Coastline is the Boundary) by Tahupotiki Wiremu Ratana during his mission. This was his way of saying that it didn’t matter if people were already baptised by some other church, they would still be welcome at his meetings.

When the Ratana faith was the strongest in the area, its adherents wanted to name the wharenui itself ‘Takutaimoana te Rohe’ and have the Ratana crescent and star symbol serve as the koruru. Their reasoning was that Ratana had ushered in a new order. Non-Ratana hapū members pointed out that Tahu Potiki had never been Christian, but to no avail. Tradition prevailed only after some objectors threatened arson.⁷

Takutaimoana te Rohe.

MERE WHAANGA

Ko Tahu Potiki Te Tangata

Ko Hamo-te-rangi Te Tipuna Whaea

Our tradition is that Tahu Potiki was the second commander of the Takitimu canoe. When Tamatea Arikinui decided to settle in the Tauranga area, he handed command of the Takitimu to Tahu Potiki. This scene is depicted on the left maihi of Te Poho O Tahu: Tamatea stands in front of Maunganui facing Tahu Potiki, who is standing in Takitimu. Tahu Potiki is also depicted in the centre of the left amo. Tahu Potiki was the younger brother of Porourangi, eponymous ancestor of Ngati Porou. When Porourangi died, Tahu Potiki returned to the East Coast and took Porourangi’s widow, Hamo-te-Rangi, as his wife. Hamo-te-Rangi is represented by the female head on the pare, Tahu Potiki by the manaia on the left of the pare, and Porourangi by the manaia on the right.

Porourangi was born at Whāngārā as dawn was breaking, blood-red and angry. This is commemorated in one of his titles, Te Tuhi mareikura o Raurū – a full-blooded man. His other title was Te Ariki Matatara a Whare, a name used today in Rarotonga for the high priest under Makea. Hence his full titles are Porou ariki-te-matatara-a-whare, Te Tuhi-mareikura-o-Raurū, the first-born son of a tapu line.

Pare of Te Poho O Tahu. Hamo-Te-Rangi (centre), with Tahu Potiki (left) and Porourangi (right).

MERE WHAANGA

His brother Tahu Pōtiki was also born at Whāngarā, when the western sky was flushed red with the rays of the setting sun, the sign of calm weather, the fisherman’s delight. Hence Tahu was called Te Tuhi-mareikura-o-Oho, a tama-wahine. He is also known as Tahumatua, the originator of a line containing numerous Tahu which has given genealogists headaches in every generation.

Tahu Potiki was a descendant of Paikea. The number of generations between the two varies between whakapapa charts, but A.T. Ngata recorded it thus:⁸

There is a long-standing debate about whether Paikea and Kahutia-te-Rangi are the same person. As the matter was not settled by our tīpuna, it would not be appropriate to attempt to do so now, and the existence of two traditions regarding Paikea is simply acknowledged.

Another well-known kōrero recounts the attempt by Ruatapu, one of Uenuku’s younger sons (whose mother was Paimahutanga, a woman taken in battle), to murder all the elder sons of his father. Kahutia-te-Rangi was the only survivor, and because of his survival through supernatural means his name was changed to Paikea. The Ngati Porou mōteatea composed by Hinetawhirangi records the battles in Hawaiki in which Uenuku was the central figure, and during which Paimahutanga was captured and became Uenuku’s wife. The explanatory notes for the mōteatea state that Uenuku lived in Hawaiki, but William Colenso said that he lived on the East Coast of Aotearoa.⁹

Uenuku

Uenuku was a senior chief of