Whenever the world gets too loud I come to Koriniti Marae, where the birds welcome me home
Iknow we are almost there when we spot the lone yellow house on the left hand side of the rural and isolated Whanganui River Road, near the central North Island. The quiet thoroughfare winds its way alongside native bush and through valleys that have been carved out by the longest navigable river in Aotearoa. Even as a kid, I knew the little yellow house meant we were just a few bends away from reaching my favourite place in the world, Koriniti Marae.
Marae are sacred communal meeting grounds for the indigenous Māori peoples of Aotearoa – they provide for everything from sleeping and eating to learning. They are the basis of traditional Māori community life, and typically feature one or more wharenui, or meeting houses, usually painted white and deep red and sometimes carved with Māori art. While many marae are no longer the bustling communities they were pre-colonisation, they continue to serve as pillars of Māori cultural identity today.
If you blinked, you would probably miss the turn off to my marae just across from Auntie Lois’s cottage on the hill. Whenever the world gets too loud, I come here. As you drive down the hill, there is a clearing of land revealing Koriniti Marae, a small picturesque settlement that sits on the banks of the river. It has three wharenui, a large hall and kitchen, a church, a Māori language learning nest for children and a few houses that are still occupied.
Ever since I was a baby, my grandmother Wahi would bring me on the one-hour journey here from the city. This place remains raw, still and serene, made all the more grounding by the sound of the powerful river that flows around the base of the marae.
New Zealand boasts the most beautiful native birds, and I am kept company here by a flock of pīwaiwaka (fantails), which dance around me every step that I take. An old friend once told me the birds were doing that because we were loosening up the earth as we walked, making it easier for them to find bugs to eat.
But this is a magical place, and I knew they were guardians welcoming me home.
For my people of the tribes of Whanganui, the river is our ancestor. She is formidable and her current is strong, so we wouldn’t swim down here as children. From the water, huge mountains rise sharply up and stretch into the sky. They are covered in thick dark green trees that roll back into the distance. I am comforted by the familiar shape of these jagged ranges – the backdrop of the marae – that has looked the same for longer than I know.
But change isn’t always bad. Last Christmas, the rocks by the river moved so much that they blocked part of the river from the current, making it calm enough to swim in. I remember how it felt diving in for the first time in years. My mind immediately went to my grandmother Wahi, who had sadly died a month earlier.
Her body rests at the urupā or marae cemetery across from Auntie Lois’s house. I feel her presence when I am in the water and I know I can connect with her under here. A big gasp of breath on my way up and the earthy smell of silt and freshwater covers me. A bittersweet moment as I return to the now. We spend our days basking in the place our ancestors once walked. This is home.
And even when there is no one here, I am not alone.
What’s your favourite wild place? If you would like to contribute to the series tell us about it in 200 words and send it to newzealand@theguardian.com
food to feed their people, countries import foodstuffs. While some nations export crude hydrocarbons, many more import refined petrochemicals such as gasoline. The right to bring in these essentials is handed over to a politically connected business “rentier” class that has a vested interest in the status quo. There is a demand for jobs, a hunger for education and a desperate need for health in Africa. Yet leaders are caught in a dilemma: if they create money to spend on social cohesion, they risk increasing food, energy and capital goods imports, and increasing their trade deficit. That puts downward pressure on the national currency. A weak exchange rate means that imports of basic necessities will be more expensive. History is littered with examples of violent revolutions preceded by price spikes.
An alternative strategy
Economic orthodoxy has no answer. Its textbooks would have African governments instructing central banks to borrow US dollars to prop up the local currency and prioritising foreign creditors with austerity. Africa’s stunted development demonstrates that poor states continue to be impoverished by being integrated into the world system through a relationship of unequal economic exchange with wealthy states. An alternative African strategy would see governments spending on public services and on increasing food and renewable energy sovereignty, while cracking down on corruption.
This provides a way out of the current development trap. In their book Africa’s Last Colonial Currency, Fanny Pigeaud and Ndongo Samba Sylla suggest that, instead of importing food and burning through foreign reserves, African states should produce food at home, as land, work and knowhow are abundant. “If they financed the development of their agriculture, they wouldn’t reduce their foreign exchange reserves; on the contrary, they would save money.”
State-owned enterprises and a competitive domestic private sector would help Africa evade activities demanded by the global north. As African countries become increasingly digital, data will be power in economic governance – and local entities must be its custodian, not transnational corporations. Trade agreements between countries of similar income levels are more beneficial for them compared with the World Trade Organization’s framework. The African Continental Free Trade Area, created by 54 of the 55 AU nations, is a good start. African economies would benefit by producing green industrial goods that rich countries take for granted, but whose mass production has not reached the continent. It would be in Europe’s interest to help – as more Africans would be able to find jobs at home, pressure to migrate would ease. Africa is caught between history and geography. Understanding how and why it got to where it is today will help the continent move forward in the future.