
Valmaine Toki, law professor and chair of the UN Expert Mechanism on Indigenous Rights, at home in Aotea (Great Barrier Island) with her children (from left) Tama, Taumata, and Kiri. (Supplied)
Last month, Valmaine Toki, a law professor at Waikato University, became the chair of the UN’s Expert Mechanism on the Rights of Indigenous People (EMRIP). She’s the first New Zealander to be appointed to that role.
Behind the long name is a body charged with promoting and protecting the rights of Indigenous peoples around the world — and persuading governments to do better on that score. In this kōrero with Dale, Valmaine talks about her role, and how New Zealand measures up on Indigenous rights.
Tēnā koe, Valmaine. Let’s start with your name. I don’t know very many Valmaines. Tell us the story of that.
My father’s close friend’s wife was called Valmaine, and I think Mum and Dad thought it would be a good idea for me to be called that too. All my life, when people ask me my name, the next question is: “Can you repeat that?” But after all this time, I’ve learned to live with it.
Marie is my middle name. Coming from a Catholic upbringing, my dad’s father wanted me to be called Marie. I’m the youngest in a family of four older brothers, and when I came along it was a bit of a celebration for my mum and dad. And, of course, for my grandfather, what better name to give me than Marie?
Did you grow up in the Hokianga or in Tāmaki?
We grew up in Tāmaki. We were part of the urban drift, but we always went home, whether it was to Aotea (Great Barrier Island) because my mum came from there, or up north to Mangamuka or Motukaraka where my dad’s from. Mum is Ngāti Rehua, Ngātiwai — and Dad’s Ngāpuhi, Te Rarawa, Ngāi Tūpoto.
As we got older, we spent more time on the island. That’s where I have my garden, my fruit trees, and our whānau home. My happy place is on Aotea.
I’ve never been to Aotea, but my sweetheart has, many times, and every time the aircraft to Aotea goes over our house in Māngere, she says: “That’s the Barrier plane.”
It’s funny, Dale. My work with the UN takes me all around the world, but home is always close to me. It’s not just that it’s such a beautiful place — it’s the spiritual connection too. It’s where my mum (Freda Toki, nee Davies) and my grandfather (Pene Pita Kino) are. We live on our papakāinga, next to our marae. It’s really quite special.
Where in Aotea is your whānau area?
The reservation is on the north-western side of Aotea. That’s where our two marae are — Kawa and Motairehe. You should come and visit one day.
I’m looking forward to it. Did you go to school on the island?
I did all my schooling in Tāmaki, but my kids went to school on Aotea, and it was great. They were related to almost everyone in their class. Caught the school bus. No uniform. And went to school in bare feet.
There’s no high school on the island, so when the kids got to high school age, it was either boarding, move to town, or correspondence school. We chose the option of me moving to town, for the children to go to school. Kiri went to Corran School for Girls, Tama went to Auckland Grammar School, where he became head boy. Taumata, my baby, went to Kura Kaupapa o Maungarongo and then did a split between Kings and Auckland Grammar.

Valmaine’s parents, Arthur and Freda Toki, on their wedding day in December 1956. Pictured with Freda’s mother Agnes Davies (bottom right) and Aunty Hema, Freda’s father’s sister-in-law, front left. (Supplied)
Growing up somewhere like Aotea and being connected as well to your dad’s side up north — all that must have been a great grounding for your work on the rights of Indigenous people globally.
Absolutely.
When you’re sitting in the UN General Assembly in New York, or you’re sitting in the UN rooms in Geneva, it can be a bit overwhelming. And what’s always anchored me is remembering where I’m from, and remembering the challenges that we face at home.
Actually, when Indigenous peoples meet during the UN sessions, it’s amazing. We share commonality across many issues, including extractive industries, climate change, Indigenous rights defenders — issues we have in common but face differently. It’s a lovely coming together, sharing and feeling part of that collective.
Who would you say are some of the mentors who’ve helped you on your journey of advocating for Indigenous rights?
There have been many trailblazers. Margaret Mutu is one who is front of mind. There was Moana Jackson, of course, who was instrumental in drafting the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. And there was also Professor Ranginui Walker.
It’s important to remember that Indigenous peoples have always been advocating for their rights.
In 1923, for instance, Chief Deskaheh, who was the chief of the Iroquois League representing the Six Nations of the Iroquois Confederacy, travelled to Geneva to appeal to the then League of Nations over breaches of the Indian Act by the Canadian government. He was seeking justice and international recognition of the Iroquois Six Nations as a sovereign Indigenous nation. He’d tried appealing to the British Crown, and when that failed, he went to Geneva to address the assembly. But the League refused to let him speak, on the grounds that Canada had jurisdiction over the Six Nations people.
A few months later, in 1924, Wiremu Rātana also took a petition to London seeking redress for Treaty of Waitangi breaches and land confiscations, which he hoped to present to King George V. He wasn’t able to get an audience with the king, and, like Chief Deskaheh, was also denied a hearing with the League of Nations.
So there’s a long history of Indigenous peoples seeking justice on the global stage.
To an extent, other Indigenous peoples have looked to us for direction, because they see Māori as being pioneers in advocating for our rights. And we have been, but we can do a lot more.
Many Indigenous people hear about our Waitangi Tribunal and our Treaty settlement process. They’ve heard that, as part of the settlement process, land has been returned, and cultural redress provided. But what they don’t hear is that only 3-5 percent of what was alienated from Māori has been returned.
The Māori example is often lauded, but many of us are well aware that we’re falling well short of that international reputation. We drag the chain about implementing structures and policies that address the obvious inequities that we’re subjected to. It’s quite sobering that people think we’re going ahead, but we’ve got a hell of a long way to go, haven’t we?
Just look at our criminal justice statistics, for example. They’ve remained the same for at least the past 40 years.
The settlements process could be viewed as another form of colonisation, in that we’re only offered a fraction of what was alienated. If you look at other Indigenous peoples, they’re unrelenting about their rights to their land, and they’ll stand up and protect it. I know there is always a balance and context to consider, but I wonder if we’re a bit too quick to make the settlement, rather than hold on to our rights over whenua until that connection or right is truly recognised.

“To an extent, other Indigenous peoples have looked to us for direction, because they see Māori as being pioneers in advocating for our rights. And we have been, but we can do a lot more.” Professor Valmaine Toki, in her first session as the chair of the UN Expert Mechanism on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (EMRIP), in Geneva on July 8. She’s been on EMRIP since 2022, and is the first New Zealander in the role. (Screenshot)
I tautoko what you’re saying. It frustrates me that the fiscal envelope was introduced, and then we had to dance to the beat of the government’s drum — and that’s not tino rangatiratanga, as you say.
Obviously, our government has baulked at signing up to UNDRIP (the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples). They voted against it initially — along with Australia, Canada and the US — and then were dragged into it somewhat. But then they’ve ignored the directives from the UN special rapporteur to improve our rights as Indigenous peoples of this land.
Actually, let’s stay with UNDRIP and the recent presentation in Geneva by a group from Aotearoa. They were obviously highlighting our country’s shortcomings. What’s likely to come out of that, Valmaine? Can you talk a bit about that presentation, please?
A few weeks ago, there was a strong contingent of Māori, and the Human Rights Commission, in Geneva. They presented a report on the New Zealand government to the EMRIP, which is the Expert Mechanism on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples — and it was damning. They were essentially saying that the government needs to do better. We have the removal of section 7AA, cultural reports being defunded, and the proposed Treaty principles bill that rewrites the Treaty without referring to Māori — which is hard to believe considering the Treaty is an agreement between the Crown and Māori.
So, they’re advocating strongly against that and the direction this coalition government is taking. They’ve requested a further follow-up country engagement, but to do that, we need the agreement of the government.
One of the tools the Expert Mechanism does have is a country engagement mandate, which is to facilitate dialogue and provide independent advice.
I’ve just finished a country engagement at the request of the Noongar Family Safety and Wellbeing Council in Western Australia. They wanted us to focus on the contemporary removal of Aboriginal children, which is an issue we’re also facing here in New Zealand. And the outcome has been that the advice and recommendations we provided will be taken up by the Western Australian government.
So, there is hope. But there has to be a willingness from the state to engage.

In Geneva last month with representatives of the National Iwi Chairs Forum, part of a group that presented a damning report to the Expert Mechanism on the performance of the coalition government. (Supplied)
I didn’t intend it to be a bleak session, but there is a lot to be hōhā about.
But are there some encouraging signs, too? We know the incarceration rates are intolerable, and I know that you’ve written extensively and considered this very carefully throughout your career, Valmaine. But what would you say about the introduction of aspects of tikanga into the way courts work? With rangatahi courts and marae community panels, are we seeing more Indigenous concepts being interwoven into our legal system?
It’s a game-changer, Dale.
I think about our leaders in this area like Judge Greg Davis up north in Kaikohe, and the great work he’s doing in Te Kooti Matariki. And also, our Chief District Court Judge Heemi Taumaunu, who piloted the first rangatahi court, Te Kooti Rangatahi.
Both are inspirational leaders and champions in our justice system. They’re driving these initiatives that are underpinned by tikanga — and they do make a difference. Tikanga principles, like reciprocity and balance, translate easily for non-Māori. They can understand the idea of reciprocity. They can understand the idea of balance and the importance of identity.
One of the great attributes of Te Kooti Rangatahi is that they’re open to both Māori and non-Māori — which is revolutionary.
The bigger umbrella, of course, is Te Ao Marama, which is still in its early days, but again we have our Judge Heemi Taumaunu driving that initiative.
And tikanga is now a mandatory inclusion across our compulsory papers for law. So, that’s a little bright light.
Slowly, slowly, it will happen.
It was a bit of a kick in the guts when they stopped funding cultural report-writing. I felt it was so important, because judges don’t know the guy in front of them from a bar of soap, and at least the cultural reports gave them an idea on what might have been behind the offending. Sadly, it was cut off at the knees. What did you think about that decision?
Dale, it’s heartbreaking doing cultural reports. Truly heartbreaking.
Sometimes, it’s as if no one has taken the time and listened to them before. If no one can write their story down in a way that is helpful for the judge when they’re determining the sentence, they just become part of the system. And the impact is intergenerational. It’s very sad.
So, yes, I think that was a huge mistake.
We’ve got champions of extractive industries in this government telling us that our economic future lies in allowing more mining and the like, but those who are more environmentally-conscious recognise that all of that comes with risks. You’ve done a lot of work in that marine space. Are you satisfied with Māori input into our marine management policies?
There are initiatives like the Sea Change (and I was a member of the committee that provided advice to the minister at the time) and the Hauraki Gulf Island Forum. As a person of the water (being Ngāti Rehua, Ngātiwai), I have a particular interest in Māori actively taking the lead in these spaces, but, of course, government support is required for that.
However, what we do have, and what we’ve piloted on Aotea, is an initiative called Ahu Moana. There are two pilots proposed in the Sea Change report — one’s on Aotea, and one’s in Te Mata.
Ahu Moana is an Indigenous-led initiative to restore our kaimoana, which brings our communities along. Because who knows your kaimoana better than the person living right by the seashore? Not only can they monitor the progress, but they have a vested interest in restoring it.
The process includes a stocktake to understand what’s needed to restore our moana, and then considers what we want to achieve, and how. For example, it could be removing kina barrens and sowing seaweed. But these are some exciting initiatives we’re undertaking at home.
There’s no marine reserve or marine protected area around Aotea, but I advocated for this initiative because it’s led by mana whenua with the support of the community behind us.
What are your views, Valmaine, on the emerging leaders from this land, in the international Indigenous affairs space? Do you think our rangatahi are getting a handle on how to maximise our input into these discussions?
Yes, I do, and I’ll be supporting them as much as possible to do that.
There are a lot of opportunities, in Geneva and New York, through specific panels to address different issues, whether it’s media, health, languages. It’s about opening up those opportunities for our rangatahi, and we’ll be championing that.

Valmaine, husband Steve Pardy, and their children Taumata, Kiri and Tama. (Photo supplied)
Kia ora. We’ve talked about work, and really, we should be talking about what we love as well. What do you do as a relief from your work life? How do you keep yourself refreshed, and enthused for the mahi you do?
My kids inspire me. When I’ve had a rough day, I look at my kids and always feel better. I don’t know whether you know Kiri. She was a litigator at a top New Zealand law firm, completed her LLM at Harvard, and she’s now completing her PhD in law at Oxford. She worked at the UN in Geneva, too. She’s a real star.
And Tama has developed a rongoā skincare range that’s been taken up by Air New Zealand and is available on their carriers. He provides a scholarship for rangatahi on Aotea because he knows the challenges our rangatahi and whānau face when the decision of high school comes along. He’s also developing a microgrid for Aotea because we have energy poverty on the island.
My baby, Taumata, works for another top New Zealand law firm. He has beautiful reo, and he has championed the Ahu Moana initiative. He was recently in the UN in Geneva where he provided an intervention from the floor, and he’s on the UNESCO Global Task Force for the International Decade of Indigenous Languages.
So the kids really give me my inspiration. And then there’s being here on the island in my garden, and out in the water and on the beach, and on our marae.
They’re amazing. I just googled them.
Yeah, they’re pretty cool kids.
Pretty cool māmā as well, Valmaine. It’s been great to have a yarn with you. Thanks for all the mahi. Ngā mihi.
(This interview has been edited for length and clarity.)
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