Repatriation case study: Te Uri o Hau

By Jane Raymond-Paikea, Te Uri o Hau Taumata Kaunihera Secretary and Co-ordinator

In October 2021, Te Uri o Hau embarked on its inaugural foray into repatriation, a concept once foreign to their collective consciousness. Until that moment, repatriation existed only in whispered questions—what did it mean to summon kōiwi tūpuna home from distant cabinets of curiosities? No one had plumbed its sacred depths, felt its tapu-charged gravity or grasped its promise of cultural protection and renewal. Yet, when delegates of Te Uri o Hau joined other northern hapū in Te Whanganui a Tara for the return of ancestral remains from Natural History Vienna, the door to reclamation swung wide, illuminating intergenerational bonds and the enduring resonance of Te Ao Māori.

Photo provided courtesy of Te Uri o Hau

Operational Preparation

Burning the midnight oil, the working party pored over research articles, bioarchaeological reports, and detailed geospatial maps. They attended hands-on workshops led by museum curators, conservation scientists, and repatriation experts—including Jamie Metzger, Susan Thorpe, and Professor Hailey Buckley—who demystified international best practices. In one landmark hui, Colin “Frenchie” Kena, speaking with the authority of his tupuna, declared: “We stand in the mana of our tupuna; we will reclaim everything that belongs to us.” This resolute statement sealed their collective intent and crystallised the working group’s strategic blueprint.

The Repatriation Framework

A four-phase plan emerged:

1. Individualisation: Conduct thorough bioarchaeological assessments to honour each kōiwi tūpuna’s unique whakapapa and life story.

2. Whānau Engagement: Share findings with uri, whānau, hapū, iwi and marae to foster collective ownership and understanding.

3. Marae Readiness: Prepare Ōtamatea Marae—its whare tangi, āteaand surrounding wāhi—for ceremonious reception, ensuring safety and cultural guidance. At Otamatea Marae, the wahine took great care in preparing the rau and harakeke to adorn the mahau, symbolising both protection and the sacred role of women in nurturing and shielding their people. With reverence for tikanga, they gathered the rau and flax from the whenua, weaving them meticulously to cloak the marae in strength and mana. Their mahi outside extended to erecting two large marquees, creating spaces where kōrero flowed and waiata echoed, enveloping the gathering in aroha and unity. Meanwhile, the Ope Taua, under the disciplined guidance of Josh Wikiriwhi, trained with rakau taiaha and tewhatewha, ensuring every stance and strike embodied purpose and wairua. The haahi prepared their karakia, uplifting the kaupapa with spiritual grounding, as the wider whānau supported with waiata himene. Ringa atawhai worked tirelessly to prepare kai rangatira, digging three hāngi pits and retrieving extra hāngī stones from the Mangakāhia awa, embedding the feast with the mauri of the river. It was whangae tangata in its purest form — a communal expression of care, culture, and connection.

4. Tikanga Revival: Enshrine ancient rituals at every juncture, from the first cut of harakeke to the last weave of the konoē, safeguarding spiritual integrity. The elders turned to rangatira Te Kura Taiaho, whose expertise in Te Ao Tawhito—including karakia tawhito (ancient incantations), takutaku (chants), and waerea (cleansing rituals)—proved instrumental.
   

Initial Engagement

As the group walked onto Rongomaraeroa at Te Papa Tongarewa, a profound wairua swept through their ranks. Hearts thickened with yearning, as though calling to those they had never met. Each step toward the ātamira felt like an awakening of a dormant whakapapa, weaving invisible threads between past and present. Tears, unbidden, charted rivers of memory along cheeks—an intimate lament for ancestors who had slept in silence for centuries. In that charged moment, repatriation transcended procedure; it became a living poem, stitched with love, loss, and the promise of re-connection.

Awakening of Whakapapa

Two days later, Te Uri o Hau departed Wellington galvanised by a shared conviction: their tupuna must return to the lands that once heard their footsteps. Under the guidance of Te Uri o Hau Taumata Kaunihera (Tribal Council of Elders), a working group coalesced, uniting kaumātua, scholars, and rangatahi in pursuit of repatriation’s inner workings. They traced its origins, untangled legal frameworks, and navigated the multiple strata of international and iwi-led processes. Consultation with an array of archives and consultations with other Iwi including the eight iwi of Taranaki Maunga.  Invitations to sit in Te Kaihautū alongside representatives of thirteen Aotearoa museums granted them an unparalleled vantage point, and their mōhioranga—insight—grew in clarity and confidence.

Embedding Te Ao Tawhito and Tikanga

At successive hui, the Taumata Kaunihera wove Te Ao Tawhito (the ancient world) and Te Ao Tikanga (customary practice) into every discussion. They consulted purākau shared by Te Uriroroi/Parawhau kaumātua Te Ihi Tito—who had repatriated toi moko in the 1990s—and learned how to configure an outdoor whare tangi and uphold mana by honoring the boundary of the wharenui. Recognising that these kōiwi tūpuna predated colonisation—tracing back to the 14th and 16th centuries—they committed to resurrecting rituals from those eras: karakia tawhito, takutaku, waerea and the cadence of traditional tauparapara, ensuring every action was anchored in ancestral mana and cultural protection.

Photo provided courtesy of Te Uri a Hau

Repatriation in Practice

On 16 March 2024, beneath an overcast sky that seemed to hold its breath, Te Uri o Hau welcomed home theirkōiwi tūpuna—ancestors who had been absent for 147 years. This was not just a return; it was a restoration of mana, a reconnection of whakapapa, and a powerful act of cultural reclamation.

As the kōiwi arrived at the waharoa of Otamatea Marae, a sea of kaikaranga rose in unison. Their voices, steeped in aroha and reverence, resonated across the whenua, awakening the land and calling the ancestor’s home. Under the guidance of Josh Wikiriwhi, the kairākau and ope taua moved with precision and wairua, each strike of the taiaha and sweep of the tewhatewha echoing ancestral rhythms—an embodiment of inherited strength and discipline.

Ko te amorangi ki mua, ko te hāpai ō ki muri—while the front was held with ceremony and ritual, the back was alive with preparation. The kauta hummed with activity as the finesthāngi experts worked tirelessly to prepare a feast worthy of the occasion. Each person had a role, a responsibility, and a shared purpose: to honour the return of their tūpuna with the utmost manaakitanga.

On the hill above, the kaikiripoka prepared a sacred moenga with care and dignity, ensuring the resting place was one of peace and honour. Along the shores of the Otamatea River, fires burned brightly—in front of the marae, beside it, and within the urupā. These flames, dancing into the night, symbolised the collective spirit of the people, unified in purpose and pride.

From the lifting of the first hāngi stone to the final tauparapara, every gesture was intentional, every moment steeped in tikanga. This homecoming was more than a ceremony—it was a living expression of Te Uri o Hau identity, a precedent for future repatriations, and a beacon for other hapū navigating their own journeys of return.

Photo provided courtesy of Te Uri a Hau

Reflections and Future Directions

This journey transcends procedural recounting to embody Te Ao Māori’s holistic approach to cultural protection. It demonstrates how repatriation, when grounded in Te Ao Tawhito and guided by meticulous tikanga, can restore tapu, affirm rangatiratanga, and weave a whariki of shared wisdom across generations. Partnerships with Te Papa’s experts evolved into genuine whanaungatanga, nurturing pathways for future repatriations. Yet Te Uri o Hau remains an open ledger—an eager student of repatriation’s evolving narrative, committed to absorbing every kōrero, every learning, and every haka of the heart.

The repatriation journey of Te Uri o Hau stands as a testament to collective determination, spiritual anchoring, and the reparative power of cultural reclamation. By harmonising ancient rituals with contemporary frameworks, they have not only returned kōiwi tūpuna to their whenua but also rekindled the living embers of tribal identity.

This case study invites all hapū and iwi to heed the call of their tūpuna, chart reclamation courses grounded in authenticity, reverence, and enduring aroha—ensuring that the flame of ancestry burns ever brighter.