Repatriation case study: Te Uri o Hau

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

Te Tīmatanga – Finding My Footing

Repatriation. That word was foreign to me—awkward on my tongue, unfamiliar in my ears. It wasn’t something I grew up hearing, let alone understanding. It felt like a distant concept, tucked away in academic spaces and museum corridors. But when I was invited to be part of Te Uri o Hau’s first repatriation journey in October 2021, I stepped into the unknown with open arms and an open heart.

I was like a blank canvas—ready, waiting, yearning for colour. And this kaupapa? It became the brush that painted my understanding, stroke by stroke. Travelling to Te Whanganui-a-Tara to welcome our tupunahome from Natural History Vienna was the moment everything changed. I didn’t just learn—I felt. The mamae, the aroha, the weight of history. It was as if my whakapapa reached out and embraced me, whispering, “You’re a part of this.”

Mahi Tautoko – Learning by Doing

Every step we took was deliberate. Before the action came the intention, and that intention was steeped in aroha and respect. Our rōpū rōpuworked tirelessly reading, researching, attending wānanga with experts like Jamie Metzger, Susan Thorpe, and Professor Hailey Buckley. I soaked it all in, like a sponge. I was learning not just about repatriation, but about myself.

Colin “Frenchie” Kena’s words still echo in my mind: “We stand in the mana of our tūpuna; we will reclaim everything that belongs to us.” That kōrero lit something inside me. It gave me purpose. It gave me pride.

Te Mahere – Our Kaupapa in Motion

We shaped our journey around four key phases:

• Individualisation – We treated each kōiwi tūpuna as a person, not a specimen. Their stories mattered. Their whakapapamattered.

• Whānau Engagement – We brought our people in. This wasn’t just our mahi—it was everyone’s. We shared, we listened, we connected.

• Marae Readiness – At Ōtamatea Marae, I watched our wāhine weave rau and harakeke with such grace and intention. We prepared our marae—its whare tangi, āteaand surrounding wāhi—for this ceremonious reception, ensuring safety and cultural guidance. We 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, people 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.

• Tikanga Revival – Guided by Te Kura Taiaho, we leaned into Te Ao Tawhito. Karakia tawhito, takutaku, waerea—rituals that reconnected us to our tīpuna and grounded us in our identity.

Photo provided courtesy of Te Uri o Hau

Te Papa – The Moment of Connection

Walking onto Rongomaraeroa at Te Papa Tongarewa was like stepping into another realm. The wairua was thick, tangible. My heart felt heavy, but not in a burdensome way—in a way that reminded me I was part of something bigger. As we approached the ātamira, tears came. Not just mine, but from all of us. It was a moment of deep reconnection. A spiritual homecoming.

Whakapapa Awakens

Leaving Te Whanganui-a-Tara, I felt transformed. Our mission was clear: bring our tūpuna home. Our Taumata Kaunihera brought together kaumātua, rangatahi, and scholars. We studied, we consulted, we collaborated with other iwi like the eight iwi of Taranaki Maunga. Sitting in Te Kaihautū alongside museum reps gave me a new lens—a curator’s lens. I wanted to see the full picture, understand every layer of this history.

Photo provided courtesy of Te Uri a Hau

Tikanga Embedded

At every hui, we wove tikanga into our kōrero. We listened to purākau from Te Ihi Tito, who had walked this path before us. We learned how to honour boundaries, how to build spaces that respected both the living and the dead. We revived rituals from centuries past, ensuring every step we took was anchored in mana and protection.

Te Hokinga Mai – The Return Home

On 16 March 2024, under a sky that felt like it was holding its breath, we welcomed our tūpuna home. The pūkaea sounded, karanga rang out, and tears flowed freely. It had been 147 years. Every movement—from the hāngī stones to the final tauparapara—was sacred. We weren’t just returning kōiwi—we were restoring identity, reclaiming our story, reigniting our whakapapa.

He Tirohanga Whakamua – My Reflections

This journey has changed me. I came in unsure, unfamiliar with the word “repatriation.” Now, I carry it with pride. I’ve gone from being a blank canvas to someone who can almost call herself an artist—painting with the colours of whakapapa, tikanga, and aroha.

We’re still learning. Still growing. Still listening. Te Uri o Hau is committed to this kaupapa, and I’m honoured to walk this path with my tūpuna beside me.

He Kupu Whakakapi – Final Words

To all hapū and iwi—your tūpuna are waiting. This journey is more than a process. It’s a calling. A healing. A reclamation. May your path be guided by truth, grounded in tikanga, and lit by the enduring flame of whakapapa.