Te Teko Project 2008-
Ko Pūtauaki te maunga
Ko Rangitāiki te awa
Ko Mātaatua me Te Arawa ngā waka
Ko Ngāti Awa me Te Arawa ngā iwi
Ko Ngāi Tamaoki, Ngāti Tarāwhai, Ngāti Whākaue ngā hapū
Ko Ruaihona te marae
Ko Tautuku te whanau
Nō Te Teko, Rotorua me Ōtautahi ahau
Kei Tāmaki Makaurau tōku kāinga ināianei
Ko Arapeta (Albie) Orme tōku papa
Ko Sara (Hera)Tautuku Orme tōku ingoa
Te Teko (2008- )is a very personal project. It’s been in the making for a long time and is still a work in progress. My photographic exploration of the township and its people began soon before the passing of my father, Arapeta Tautuku Orme of Ngāti Awa & Te Arawa as we drove the familiar road between Rotorua, where he was living at the time, to Te Teko catching up with whanau and (his) old time school friends. I have been coming to Te Teko since I was a kid and Te Teko project explores the small, predominantly Maori populated, community in New Zealand of which my Father, my Grandmother and two generation before them were born.
Although I never got to document my father’s life here I continue to document his spirit, through whanau who live here today, soaking up both the past and the present of a place he was deeply connected to.
Te Teko is just one small story of colonisation in New Zealand. I hope this project will continue to open up the conversation regarding colonial land theft of the past and an understating of the inequalities of the present.
I graduated from Canterbury university in 1988 with a double degree in Art History and Sociology, majoring in both ethnicity and feminist studies. I later studied photography at Unitec, Auckland graduating in 1993.
I tap into my sociologist sensibility when I document the life and human experience around me as a photographer.
Today, when I arrive in Te Teko I am only called Hera. I am also endearingly known as ‘the blonde’. I am welcomed as whanau and we are united through our shared lineage.
I search for truth in my work as a photographer. I avoid showing Te Teko romantically like many non-indigenous people before me have done. There’s both tenderness and grit in my images. I try to reflect/record the positive and the negative aspects of the place… As it is. As I find it. I am conscious of not perpetuating a ‘status quo’ of how Maori are viewed and aim to create a way of seeing in all its complexity as well as celebrating resilience, survival and joy in what has been managed to keep.
I don’t always have my camera, it’s not always appropriate, but the narrative is never missed. Learning from my memories and experiences, connecting with whanau and asking more questions about the realities and consequences of colonial theft over one hundred and fifty years ago has become the essence of the Te Teko project.
There is so much mixed emotion for me personally and also as a photographer. Like all places no one story is the same and everyone has their own experience. However, it is hard to ignore the lingering impact and consequences of The Raupatu that are still visible and felt today, generations later. In 2021, for those who might drive through Te Teko and surrounding areas or read our national media, one might feel a sense of despair of visible poverty that prevails. I can’t look at it as either romantic, neither do I see only the impoverishment. It is just simply a different way of life and knowing that no life is ‘normal’. There is richness and love amidst the struggle and hardship.
Further links:
Te Teko selected images here
Growing up blonde & Maori here (A personal experience from Sara Orme)
Website here (saraorme.com)
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Te Teko is just one small story of colonisation in New Zealand.
I hope this project will continue to open up the conversation regarding colonial land theft of the past and an understating of the inequalities of the present.
As New Zealand historian O’Malley says, “It is about taking ownership of our history, binding us together as a nation that can honestly confront its own past. We need to own this history. Doing that is not intended to sow the seeds of division or disharmony. It is actually the basis for genuine reconciliation.”
A (very) brief History of Ngāti Awa and the Impact of Raupatu on Te Teko
“It is about taking ownership of our history, binding us together as a nation that can honestly confront its own past. We need to own this history. Doing that is not intended to sow the seeds of division or disharmony. It is actually the basis for genuine reconciliation. To understand the present, we cannot ignore the past.” — Vincent O’Malley
The story of Ngāti Awa is one of resilience and survival through a complex history of colonization, land loss, and the struggle for cultural preservation. The iwi’s relationship with its land, particularly the town of Te Teko, is intertwined with the greater narrative of colonial pressures and the Raupatu (land confiscations). The consequences of these events still shape the socio-economic landscape of Ngāti Awa today.
Early Prosperity and Land Ownership
Ngāti Awa, like many Māori iwi, understood land as a communal resource with deep spiritual significance. The concept of whenua (land) was not about individual ownership, but rather about guardianship and kaitiakitanga (stewardship). Māori society operated with the understanding that land connected people to their ancestors, whakapapa (genealogy), and spiritual world. Land ensured survival, stability, and identity.
Before European arrival, Ngāti Awa was prosperous, with fertile lands that supported trade and agriculture. The iwi had strong communal practices around the sharing and use of resources. However, the arrival of European settlers brought new pressures, particularly regarding the differing views on land ownership. For the British, land was a commodity to be bought, sold, and individually owned—this created immediate tension with the Māori worldview.
Te Tiriti o Waitangi and Its Consequences
Te Tiriti o Waitangi, signed in 1840, was intended to protect Māori rights, promising them continued sovereignty over their land and resources. Ngāti Awa chiefs, along with other iwi, believed this agreement would preserve their autonomy. However, the Crown's interpretation of the Treaty differed dramatically. The Crown’s primary interest lay in securing land for settlers, and in the decades following the Treaty’s signing, large tracts of land were acquired through dubious means.
The Turning Point: The Death of James Fulloon and the Raupatu
A critical moment for Ngāti Awa came in 1865 with the murder of James Fulloon, a government official, in Whakatāne. Despite the fact that this event involved only a small group, Ngāti Awa as a whole was labeled Tangata Hara (people in rebellion). This gave the Crown the justification it needed to begin the Raupatu (land confiscation), which would have devastating consequences for the iwi. Over 448,000 acres of land were taken from Ngāti Awa, including key territories like Te Teko, under the pretense of quelling a rebellion.
Te Teko: A Symbol of Resistance and Struggle
Te Teko, located along the Rangitāiki River, became a focal point during the Crown’s assault on Ngāti Awa. The invasion and subsequent siege of Te Teko in October 1865 was led by Major William Mair, with the support of Te Arawa iwi who allied with the Crown. A force of 400-500 men laid siege to Ngāti Awa positions along the riverbanks, particularly near Tahuna Road, which became one of the key battlegrounds.
The siege on Te Teko lasted for three days. Ngāti Awa defended their lands fiercely, but they were outnumbered and outgunned. Ultimately, the pā at Te Teko was surrendered, and the Crown confiscated large swaths of fertile land along the Rangitāiki River. These lands were subsequently redistributed to settlers and allied Māori, leaving Ngāti Awa marginalized and displaced. The loss of Te Teko, both symbolically and physically, marked a turning point for the iwi as they were stripped of their ancestral lands and thrust into a position of economic and social hardship.
The Consequences of Land Confiscation and Fragmentation
The Raupatu did not simply strip Ngāti Awa of their land; it also fractured their society. The confiscation was followed by a policy of individualizing land titles, which was a government initiative aimed at breaking up collective Māori land ownership. This process undermined the social cohesion of Ngāti Awa and made the land holdings economically unsustainable.
The fragmentation of land into smaller, individualized parcels meant that traditional tribal land management practices were no longer viable. Māori landowners found themselves unable to compete economically, as their parcels were too small to support large-scale farming or development. This led to a cycle of poverty, where families were forced to sell off their remaining land just to survive. By the 1970s, much of the land that had been returned to Ngāti Awa had become so fragmented that it was no longer economically useful.
Moreover, the loss of communal land further alienated Ngāti Awa from their resources. Fishing and birding areas that were traditionally managed by hapū were now inaccessible, compounding the social and economic pressures on the iwi. The Crown’s policy of land fragmentation, combined with the lack of compensation, left Ngāti Awa struggling to rebuild their economic base.
The Long-term Effects of Dislocation
The dislocation caused by land confiscation had far-reaching effects. Deprived of their land, Ngāti Awa were left without the means to sustain themselves economically. Many were forced to take up laboring jobs, often on the very lands that had been taken from them. The economic disempowerment of Ngāti Awa was coupled with a loss of cultural identity, as the traditional social structures that had bound the iwi together were eroded.
The trauma of dislocation, both physical and psychological, continues to affect Ngāti Awa today. The Crown’s actions severed the connection between the people and their land, which is central to Māori identity and wellbeing. As a result, generations of Ngāti Awa have grown up without access to their traditional lands or resources, contributing to cycles of poverty and marginalization.
The Individualization of Land Titles
The government's introduction of the Native Land Court further compounded the problems facing Ngāti Awa. The court's role was to individualize Māori land titles, which went directly against Māori customs of communal land ownership. This process not only led to the fragmentation of land but also to significant internal divisions within the iwi. Hapu and whānau who had once worked together now found themselves in competition over increasingly scarce resources.
The result was a breakdown of the traditional systems of social and political organization. The communal base that had sustained Ngāti Awa was undermined, leaving them vulnerable to further land loss. By turning land into an individual asset rather than a communal one, the Crown succeeded in weakening the power of the iwi and making it easier for Māori land to be alienated.
The Path to Redress
Ngāti Awa's struggle for redress was long and difficult. Unlike other iwi, they were among the last to receive any form of compensation for the land that had been taken from them. The establishment of Te Rūnanga o Ngāti Awa in 1988 was a significant step forward in this process. Through the work of the Rūnanga, Ngāti Awa was able to negotiate the return of some of their land and secure financial compensation from the Crown. However, the damage caused by over a century of land loss and social dislocation cannot be easily undone.
Ngāti Awa Today
Apirana Ngata, Ngāti Porou leader and politician, once said of Ngāti Awa:“Ngāti Awa is a sick people because of the punishments of the law … and I wept for them that had been made to suffer so harshly by the government.”Despite these hardships, Ngāti Awa has demonstrated remarkable resilience and determination to rebuild their iwi. In the late 20th century, Ngāti Awa leaders took on the monumental task of reconstructing their tribe with little outside support. Unlike other iwi, Ngāti Awa did not initially have a tribal trust board or access to government resources. However, through perseverance, they established the Ngāti Awa Trust Board and its successor, Te Rūnanga o Ngāti Awa.
Today, the iwi has made significant strides in cultural revitalization and economic development. They have established Te Reo Irirangi o Te Mānuka Tūtahi, a radio station, and Te Whare Wānanga o Awanuiārangi, a center for higher learning. Additionally, the reconstruction of Mātaatua wharenui, which was returned to Whakatāne in 1996 after being taken away in 1878, serves as a powerful symbol of Ngāti Awa's enduring spirit and commitment to preserving their heritage. The reopening of Mātaatua in 2011 marked a significant moment in the iwi’s journey towards healing and cultural restoration.
Conclusion
The history of Ngāti Awa is a powerful reminder of the long-lasting effects of colonialism and land confiscation. The Raupatu, and the subsequent fragmentation of land, had devastating consequences for the iwi, both economically and culturally. Yet, despite these challenges, Ngāti Awa has remained resilient, continuing to fight for their rights and rebuild their community. As we reflect on their history, it is crucial to understand the deep connection between Māori and the land, and the ongoing struggle for justice and reconciliation in Aotearoa.
Ngāti Awa's journey reflects the whakataukī:“He manu hou ahau, he pī ka rere.”"I am like a fledgling, a newborn bird just learning to fly."This symbolizes their ongoing efforts to rebuild, learn, and grow, despite the adversities they have faced.
Glossary:
iwi: tribe
whenua: land
whakapapa: genealogy
Tangata Hara: people in rebellion Raupatu: land confiscation
hapu: sub-tribe
whānau: family.
Further links:
Te Teko selected images here
Growing up blonde & Maori here
Website here
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