
The 2004 foreshore and seabed hīkoi on Parliament grounds, May 5, 2004. (Photo: DEAN TREML/AFP via Getty Images)
Herewini Ammunson was only six years old when he marched, with his whānau, on his first hīkoi. That was in 2004, when whānau Māori turned up in their thousands to protest against the foreshore and seabed legislation proposed by the Clark Labour government.
Twenty years later, as the Hīkoi mo Te Tiriti approaches Wellington, he reflects on why his whānau will once again be marching to parliament on Tuesday.
I was six when my kuia led our whānau down Lambton Quay as we protested with thousands of other families against the government. Back then, all I knew was that the government was taking away our rights, and something was wrong.
It was 2004, and the foreshore and seabed march had arrived in Wellington.
That morning, we were up early. Our house at Papawai Pā in Wairarapa was full of the oldest, youngest and sickest members of our tribe and other tribes of the East Coast. We slept in the lounge as all our beds were taken. There were walkers, wheelchairs and pushchairs out on the deck. Our marae next door was full — I’d never seen people sleep in the wharekai before.
We drove over the Remutaka Hill and into Wellington. It was freezing, wet and windy. My mum pushed my baby brothers in a double pram, my dad pushed a kuia in a wheelchair, and my grandmother held my hand. Sneaking me lollies all the way.
Twenty years later, and once again, whānau Māori are preparing to march on parliament because another government is launching an attack on our rights. Different government, same kaupapa, same whānau.
This year also marks the sixth generation of our Wairarapa families protesting against government actions that have destroyed our lake.
A few weeks ago, the night before our iwi submitted to parliament against the proposed changes to MACA — the Marine and Coastal (Takutai Moana) Act 2011 — my uncle, who taught me about diving, fishing and the moana, showed up out of the blue for a cuppa. He tohu pea, a sign.
He listened as we talked about how this government is pushing through a law change to overturn a Court of Appeal decision and make it harder for iwi Māori to claim our customary rights on coastlines. My uncle, a man who has protected our moana his whole life, along with generations of his whānau, told me: “It’s fu**ing bullshit, Nephew.” Bang on, Uncle.
And just today, we found out from the newspaper — not from a phone call or an email, which you would expect from someone who calls itself your partner — that for the past five years, 762 million litres of treated but “undisinfected” wastewater has leaked into the stream that runs behind our marae.
Luckily, we had already placed a rāhui on it to protect our tuna, or else we could have a lot of very sick people. So it seems like we will be continuing to protest against the Crown’s abuse of our waterways for a few more years.
The other night I was talking to my dad, and he remembered that, in 1975, our recently widowed grandma, a cleaner, a volunteer at her church and a staunch Māori Women’s Welfare League member, packed up all her five kids, and took them out of school and to the Māori Land March at “the parliament”, as she would say. Dad was eight at the time.
So, these past few weeks, I’ve thought heaps about my grandmother, my whānau, and all the generations of our Māori families who’ve given so much to our country. We’ve fought world wars, had our lands stolen, and almost lost our language. And yet our country’s governments keep trying to take more from us.

“Grandma is too ill to make the hīkoi this year, but all her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren will be there in force.” Pictured: the Ammunson whānau, including Grandma Mizpah Matthews Ammunson front row, centre. (Supplied)
Grandma is too ill to make the hīkoi this year, but all her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren will be there in force.
The rights we’re fighting to hold on to were fought for and guaranteed to us by our tīpuna who signed Te Tiriti on our behalf, almost 200 years ago. We know our job is to protect those rights for our mokopuna, for the next 200 years.
And we hope other tangata Tiriti realise that this government’s proposed law changes, policies, omissions and actions don’t just dishonour our Māori ancestors. They dishonour our country and the agreement upon which it was founded. They dishonour all our ancestors.
Heoi anō. E Tā Rāpata, e Tā Bom, haere atu rā, waiho mai ana e koe ko ō kupu hei rama ārahi i a tātau e kimi nei i te hinātore i roto i te pōuriuri. “Tū Māori mai.” Āke, āke, kia kaha e!
Toitū Te Tiriti.

The Hīkoi mō te Tiriti passes through Wainui Road, Gisborne this week. Photo: Supplied / Josh O’Neill
Herewini Ammunson grew up in rural Wairarapa and chairs Papawai Marae Committee. He works as a lawyer.
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