In 1978, Falema’i Lesā was arrested in Wellington for overstaying her temporary visa and ordered to be deported back to what was then Western Sāmoa.

Her fight to stay in New Zealand (based on the argument that she was a New Zealand citizen by law) went all the way to the Privy Council in England, which found in her favour — triggering much consternation in government circles and the rushed passing of a new law to overturn that decision.

The Privy Council had ruled that all Western Sāmoans born on or after May 13, 1924, and before January 1, 1949, were British subjects, and thus they and their descendants had become New Zealand citizens in 1949 when the New Zealand-British Nationality and New Zealand Citizenship Act 1948 came into effect.

That law established New Zealand citizenship for the first time (before this, New Zealanders were British subjects). It covers a period when Sāmoa was administered by New Zealand. 

The Muldoon National Government, supported by the Labour opposition, wasted no time in quashing the Privy Council ruling, with the passing of the Citizenship (Western Samoa) Act on September 14, 1982.

This month marks 42 years since the passing of that law, but it still rankles with Falema’i, now 77 and living in Lower Hutt.

She’s been supporting Green MP Teanau Tuiono’s bill to restore citizenship rights to the now elderly group of Sāmoans (estimated to number around 3,000–5,000) who were directly affected by that 1982 legislation.

Teuila Fuatai asked Falema‘i about the events leading up to the ruling, and her life since then.

 

I was born in Sāmoa in November 1946. My family name is Lesāisaea — Lesā is the short version of that. My father was Tagi Ramasese Lesāisaea and my mother was Lipale Lesāisaea. I’m the youngest of their 10 children.

I came to New Zealand in September 1975, when I was 28. My brothers Gāfoa and Sualua were already living here with their families, and I stayed with them in Ponsonby.

It wasn’t easy for me to leave Sāmoa. My entire life was there, including my three young children who stayed back with my mother. My plan was to come to New Zealand to work and save enough money to bring them over. I thought coming to New Zealand was the best thing I could do to build a better life for all of us. Like many Sāmoans, I came because of the promise of jobs and opportunities.

It didn’t take me long to find work after arriving in Auckland. My first job was at the Griffin’s biscuit factory in Grey Lynn. I also worked as a cleaner for Air New Zealand, and at a rest home in Grey Lynn on the weekends. I often had two to three jobs at a time to earn enough money.

It was hard being separated from my children and trying to get used to life in New Zealand. I arrived in the middle of the Dawn Raids, so it wasn’t an easy time to be Sāmoan here. I could see and feel that we weren’t welcome. There was a lot of bad publicity about overstayers who were being blamed for everything that was going wrong, and I was really afraid that I would be deported at any time. I also started to wonder if Auckland was the best place for me.

I knew a beautiful couple, Solomona and Moana Leota, who lived in Wellington. I talked to them about what it was like to live and work there, and I mentioned that I was thinking of leaving Auckland. I wanted to be somewhere where not many people knew me.

When Solomona and Moana kindly offered to take me in, I left Auckland without a second thought and moved into their home on Daniel Street in Newtown. I’ll never forget their generosity and kindness. They became like my family.

Solomona worked at the Royal Oak Hotel and helped me get a job there, as a cook. I just wanted to work hard, send money back home to Sāmoa to support my family, and save enough money so my children could join me.

But I never felt safe. My visa had expired by then and I was always worried that Immigration would find me and deport me back to Sāmoa.

I recall one evening around dinner time, I was looking after Solomona and Moana’s young children when there was heavy knocking at our front door. When I opened the door, there was a man and a woman standing there. They looked like officials. My heart sank, but I tried to stay calm as I greeted them.

They asked if I knew a woman by the name of Falema’i Lesā.

I said no, there was no one here by that name. I told them that we’d only moved in recently and maybe they were the people who had lived there before us.

They just thanked me and left without a fuss.

I remember thinking how lucky I was that they didn’t have a picture of me.

But not long after that, I was arrested at work.

It was in 1978. I got a call from the hotel reception to go down and collect some mail that was addressed to me. I remember thinking that was strange because it had never happened before.

Before I got to the office, I was met in the stairwell by a man and a woman. They showed me their IDs and said they were from Immigration. Before I could say anything, they took me away. I didn’t even get a chance to collect my things.

I had no idea what was happening, and I was so scared. The Immigration officers took me home to Daniel Street. They told me I had overstayed my visa, and demanded that I give them my passport. From there, I was taken to the police station on Taranaki Street and locked up in a cell. It smelled of rotting chipboard and urine and had graffiti all over the walls. There was also a spring bed frame with no mattress and some magazines. I remember feeling so alone and shocked.

While I was locked up, a policeman asked me about my visa status, how long I’d been in New Zealand, and why I was here. I knew about my rights and I told him that I wouldn’t say anything until I saw a lawyer.

I stayed in the cell until lunchtime. I was released because the caretaker from the hotel I worked at posted my bail. My Good Samaritan’s name was Malcolm McKay, and he was a Scottish man. I was very grateful to him.

Solomona and Moana helped me find a lawyer, and that afternoon we met with George Rosenberg. His office was in Newtown, just across from Wellington Hospital and close to our home, which made it easy for us to meet.

I told George about how I’d been arrested, and he asked me about my birthdate. He’d been helping a lot of Sāmoans with their immigration problems, and I think he already knew what the New Zealand citizenship law said about Sāmoans born between 1924 and 1948.

After I told him when I was born, he asked me if I was brave enough to take my case further. He said my case was going to affect all Sāmoans.

Without hesitation, I said yes.

For the next four years, we were in and out of court. My case kept being postponed. I couldn’t renew my visa while my case was still going through the courts which meant I couldn’t return to Sāmoa to see my mother and family. It was a very hard time.

During that time, I got to know George Rosenberg and his wife Amanda. George was a very kind man, calm and gentle, and he always treated me with a lot of respect. Amanda was also very supportive of my case and believed we were doing the right thing. She was a caring soul with a big heart.

I was lucky to be supported by the Pacific Resource Centre and the Overstayers Issue Committee in Wellington. They helped a lot of our people who were struggling with their immigration status. They also raised money, alongside the Sāmoan community, so that my case could go to the Privy Council in England. The New Zealand courts had repeatedly denied my case, so the Privy Council was our last chance to fight for citizenship. George Rosenberg also asked George Barton QC, a senior lawyer, to help him with my case. Dr Barton was a professor of law at Victoria University and he’d taken other cases to the Privy Council.

The Privy Council ruling was announced on July 28, 1982. I’ll never forget the moment I found out. It was about 6 o’clock in the morning and I was still in bed when the phone rang. It was Margaret, George Rosenberg’s secretary. She told me we’d won, and to get dressed as quickly as possible and come down to the office because George had organised a photographer from the newspaper to take my photo.

When I arrived, I barely got a chance to say hello to Margaret before the photographer started taking pictures. That’s how we got that photo of me sitting on Margaret’s desk.

I was really elated. Not just for me, but for everyone who’d helped with my case, and especially for our Sāmoan people. I was also relieved that the long fight was over. It was a good feeling knowing that the Privy Council, the highest court of appeal for New Zealand at the time, had agreed with my case.

I was so grateful to George Rosenberg and George Barton.

Unfortunately, the elation around our victory didn’t last long because the ruling was overturned by Muldoon’s National government, with support from Labour, which was in opposition then.

Less than two months after the Privy Council decision, the New Zealand parliament passed the Citizenship (Western Sāmoa) Act 1982. The law took away the right of Sāmoans born between 1924 and 1948 to claim New Zealand citizenship, which is what the Privy Council had said.

But all Sāmoans who were in New Zealand when the law was passed on September 14, 1982, were automatically recognised as New Zealand citizens.

My children were still in Sāmoa when the law passed, but by then I’d saved enough money to pay a lawyer so their citizenship applications could be processed. I had also managed to get a rental home for us in Wellington, so around Christmas that year, I went back to Sāmoa to get my children and to see my family. I hadn’t seen them in more than seven years.

My children started school here in 1983. I was so proud and happy that I was able to bring them to New Zealand.

But at the same time, I was angry and disappointed for my brothers and sisters who were still in Sāmoa when that law passed. Seven of them were born between 1924 and 1948, and could have been New Zealand citizens if the Privy Council decision had been allowed to stand.

So that 1982 law directly affected them and their children, as well as many others of my extended ‘āiga who would have qualified. Many of them have since passed away. It has also disrupted many family relationships by making it harder for family members to reunite.

I believe to this day that the law is unfair and racist. We were treated so badly, labelled as lawbreakers and criminals for overstaying our visas, yet the Privy Council ruling proved it was the government’s immigration policy that was breaking the law. When the Privy Council decision didn’t go their way, they just wrote a new law to make it go away.

That’s why I and my family wholeheartedly support the bill that Teanau Tuiono introduced to parliament earlier this year. The bill would restore New Zealand citizenship to this group of Sāmoans and repeal the 1982 law.

I put in a written submission on the bill, and I hope it passes. But at the same, I believe the bill doesn’t go far enough. The government should reinstate the rights of the descendants of those Sāmoans who would have been New Zealand citizens under the 1982 Privy Council ruling.

It’s the right thing to do after all this time, and it’s a respectful way of reflecting our voices as well as the historical and ongoing contribution of Sāmoans to this country.

I’ll be 78 this November. I retired in 2021, after working for 33 years as a cook and carer in the hospitality and aged care sector.

I’ve lived a good life here with no regrets.

I met my husband Ropeti here, and between us, we have 12 children, 51 grandchildren, and 15 great-grandchildren. We bought our first house in the late 1980s in Lower Hutt, and we’ve lived in Lower Hutt ever since then.

Ropeti and I have built the life that we dreamed of for ourselves and our children, while also helping to lift up our extended families and community.

My ‘āiga and I have helped many of our relatives find work and housing in New Zealand. We’ve also assisted the migration and settlement of other members of our families. We’ve educated our young people in Aotearoa, as well as in Australia where some of our family members now live. We’re also members of many church and community groups.

One of my children has a post-graduate degree, several of my grandchildren have undergraduate degrees, and two are now studying at universities. I’m a proud wife to a loving husband and a mother, grandmother and great-grandmother to all my beautiful children whom I love dearly.

I’m very proud that I said yes to George Rosenberg when he asked me if I was brave enough to pursue my case. I’ll forever be indebted to him and all the wonderful people who devoted their time to help me and my family.

And I continue to pray and offer hope for my Sāmoa.

Falema’i Lesā (Lesāisaea) is from the villages of Papa Sātaua, Sāfotu and Sāpapaali’i, Savai’i.

The Restoring Citizenship Removed By Citizenship (Western Samoa) Act 1982 Bill aims to restore citizenship rights to Sāmoans who were directly affected by the 1982 legislation. About 24,500 submissions were made to the select committee about the bill, including by Falema’i and several of her family members.

The bill is now being reviewed, and a second reading of the bill is expected to take place in October.

As told to Teuila Fuatai and made possible by the Public Interest Journalism Fund.

E-Tangata, 2024