“Just because you don’t know your whakapapa doesn’t mean you’ve lost your whakapapa,” writes Emma West who was adopted out of her iwi Ngāti Hine as a baby. (Photo: RNZ)

The impact of colonisation means many Māori don’t know the details of their whakapapa. Emma West was one of those who knew she was Māori, but nothing more, up until the age of 50.

Here, she shares her advice on how to manage a pepeha when you’re Māori and still learning who you are.

A pepeha is a Māori cultural custom that is delivered when you first meet new people.

It requires sharing whakapapa, your ancestral ties to maunga, awa, waka, iwi and hapū. Sharing where you are from, and from whom you descend, helps establish connections between people.

The marae is still a key domain where pepeha is shared, but it has also become a more common practice in other forums.

Schools, universities and government organisations frequently encourage sharing pepeha during engagements with new people.

For Māori, whakapapa is our taonga tuku iho — a prized treasure, handed down from our ancestors, that is core to our identity.

Unfortunately, there is a large group of Māori who don’t know their whakapapa connections. For these Māori, providing a pepeha can cause great anxiety and a sense of whakamā or shame.

It’s important to understand the origins of this loss and shame. And it’s important to know you can still deliver a pepeha — even if, like me, you’re Māori and don’t know your whakapapa.

Why do many Māori not know their whakapapa?

In Aotearoa, our child welfare practices have been particularly destructive to the whakapapa knowledge of whānau Māori. During the 1960s and 1970s, tamariki Māori were adopted into non-kin and non-Māori homes. In some cases, attempts were made to erase a Māori child’s ethnicity to make them more “adoptable” to non-Māori.

Tamariki Māori were also frequently uplifted from whānau and placed in borstals and state care institutions. More recently, legislation has been used to uplift “at-risk” tamariki from their whānau Māori at alarming rates.

The ramifications of these practices on Māori have been widely discussed. A Royal Commission of Inquiry, numerous reports, Waitangi Tribunal claims (WAI2915), and theses on the topic have provided ample evidence of New Zealand’s destructive child welfare practices on whānau Māori. Testimonies from Māori who were affected repeatedly emphasise the intergenerational loss of whakapapa knowledge in Aotearoa.

We now have a situation where many Māori don’t know their Māori whakapapa,  leaving them embarrassed and unable to deliver their pepeha.

The simple answer appears to be: “So go find your whakapapa.” But for some, the reality is that such a request is fraught with immense challenges.

Finding your whakapapa is no easy task when your whakapapa was not recorded on your birth or adoption certificates, when you were raised estranged from your whānau, when there are gatekeepers refusing to share information with you, or when you only have a DNA test to prove you are Māori.

I’m a Māori adoptee. I’ve experienced first-hand the difficulties of finding my whakapapa. My Māori birth father wasn’t named on my adoption files nor on my original birth certificate.

Last year, my birth mother gave me my father’s name. After much detective work and perseverance, I eventually found him. After meeting my dad, I received the taonga tuku iho I had been seeking — my whakapapa. For me, it had been a 50-year wait. In the research for my doctoral thesis, Bringing Our Mokopuna Home, I spoke to other Māori adoptees about their search for whakapapa knowledge and their reunion experiences.

For so many of us, the road has not been easy or linear. Several adoptees shared how they were motivated to search for their whakapapa after the birth of their own children. Others began searching as young adults in a quest to learn more about their Māori identity.

The reunion experience for Māori seeking reconnections with whakapapa whānau also has its challenges. While some are welcomed by their Māori whānau, others must navigate whānau questions about their motivation. For some, the desire for whakapapa understanding overrides the risk of rejection. For others, the journey home is too hard, and is abandoned.

Being Māori without knowledge of your Māori whakapapa can be a sad, lonely and isolating experience. You can feel lost and without an anchor. Inauthentic or not fully Māori. Angry at the discriminatory system which has placed you in this situation. Rejected by whānau who may not even know you exist. Like me, you might feel you’ve been robbed of taonga tuku iho that should have been your birthright.

So when you’re asked to stand in front of a room full of strangers, who assume you know your whakapapa, it’s confronting.

A million thoughts may go through your head. Should I tell them about my past? Should I just make up a pepeha to satisfy the requirements of the task? Should I skip the exercise and head off to another room?

When you’re Māori and don’t know your whakapapa, and must admit this fact, a cloud of shame descends. So, how do we change the narrative? How do we stand proudly as Māori irrespective of our whakapapa knowledge?

Your whakapapa is always there

Just because you don’t know your whakapapa doesn’t mean you’ve lost your whakapapa.

When you’re Māori, your whakapapa is within you. Be reassured — you are a seed of Rangiātea. You are not missing or lost. You’re here on earth as a mokopuna of Ranginui and Papatuānuku. These facts can form the basis of your pepeha.

Secondly, whakapapa is much more than just knowing the names of your direct ancestors. While there’s no denying that reciting your tūpuna is critical for hapū and whānau identity, whakapapa is also about engaging with te ao Māori.

You may not know your tūpuna names yet, but you can embody their wairua and legacy by learning mātauranga that has passed down through the generations.

Whakapapa knowledge can be found in our reo, waiata, oriori, karakia, moteatea and mahi toi. By interacting with other Māori in these activities — one day you may discover that they are in fact your whanaunga.

As Rawiri Waititi says: “Although you may not know your mountain, your mountain knows you. You may not know your awa, but your awa knows you.”

Learning the whakapapa of our whenua opens the door to discovering yourself. Physically walking in the footsteps of our tūpuna, going where they went, tunes us into the many purākau of our whenua. Who knows, one day you may discover these are in fact stories about tūpuna from your whakapapa line.

Another important point to make is that whakapapa is an ongoing journey. The impacts of colonisation, legislation, migration and assimilation means many Māori have gaps in their whakapapa knowledge.

Internalising those gaps as a personal failing means the coloniser wins. The mamae or pain of the past is not your shame to wear. Calm the noise that distracts you from the karanga of our tūpuna. Think of the journey toward understanding as rongoā that can heal intergenerational trauma.

As you tune into the call of the tūpuna, their wairuatanga will guide you. Whakapapa is about being open to the tohu or signs that lead you to what may appear fortuitous occurrences, but are in fact intentional tūpuna interventions.

In my own whakapapa journey, there have been numerous occasions where my tūpuna intervened. I no longer fob these ”wairua moments” off as coincidences, but accept them as an indication that I’m on the right path.

For those who are yet to learn the names of their whenua, hapū, marae, iwi, Māori parents or tūpuna: Be proud of who you are, but never give up on your quest for whakapapa insight.

Challenge the systems and legislation that make your task hard. Educate others about your reality. Be brave and engage in kaupapa Māori activities. Remember the journey is just as rewarding as the destination.

So what is the key message here?

Delivering your pepeha doesn’t have to be scary or shameful, irrespective of the whakapapa knowledge you hold.

What might my pepeha say?

It’s okay to simply say:

I have whakapapa Māori.

I’m a mokopuna from a long line of tūpuna.

But I have yet to learn the names of my whānau, hapū, marae and iwi.

I’m on a journey to learn my pepeha.

But I will never be lost, for I am a seed sown in Rangiātea.

E kore au e ngaro, he kākano i ruia mai i Rangiātea.

Dr Emma West (Ngāti Hine) is a recent doctoral graduate from Te Awanuiārangi. Her study explored the diverse ways Māori connect to whakapapa, and the impact of past and present child welfare legislation on whakapapa knowledge. She was raised in Waikato in a closed adoption by non-Māori and non-kin. After 50 years of wondering, she learned about her Māori whakapapa.

Emma is interested in hearing from other Māori who are seeking support during their whakapapa journey. Email: westemma43@gmail.com

E-Tangata, 2025