“When Māori ask for fairness, it’s not an attack on you. It’s a call to walk forward together.” — Heemi Mahauariki. (Photo supplied)

With divisions in the country becoming more heightened in recent times, Heemi Mahauariki offers a message of unity: “Let’s put down the fear, the resentment, the gatekeeping, the mana-munching, and the idea that one side has to lose for the other to win.”

Aotearoa, this is for all of us.

Tangata whenua, tangata Tiriti, tangata Moana, tauiwi — every single one of us who calls this whenua home. No matter where our whakapapa begins, our futures are tied together. Whether our people arrived here a thousand years ago, two hundred years ago, or just last week, we are all standing on this land.

And this land deserves better from us. Because somewhere along the way, we lost sight of what this place was meant to be.

Somewhere along the way, we let wounds turn into weapons. We let fear dictate our actions. We let history become a battlefield instead of a foundation. And instead of building each other up, we’ve been pulling each other down.

Māori, we know what that feels like. We’ve had 185 years of being told we are less. Less worthy. Less intelligent. Less capable. Our whenua taken, our reo nearly erased, our tikanga shoved aside, our taonga locked in glass cases like relics of a world we were never meant to survive.

But you know what’s worse? When we do it to each other.

When we shame our own because they weren’t raised in te ao Māori.

When we mock those still learning the reo instead of uplifting them.

When we measure each other’s worth by how much we know instead of how much we try.

When we hoard tikanga like a trophy instead of extending a hand to those reaching for it.

That is not mana. That is mana-munching.

And it needs to stop. Because we should never be making our own people feel like they’re not Māori enough. Like whakapapa is a test to pass instead of a birthright to honour. Like te ao Māori is a club with an entry fee instead of a home to return to.

But this isn’t just about Māori.

Pākehā, Pasifika, tauiwi: This kōrero is for you too. Because this country isn’t just changing, it’s evolving. And you have a choice. You can resist it, or you can walk with us.

And I know some of you feel uneasy hearing that. You hear Māori standing up and saying, “We want more,” and it sounds like we’re asking for something you don’t have.

But we’re not asking for more than you. We’re asking for the same.

For too long, people have thrown around the word “equality” like it’s something we all just arrived at together. But that’s not how this works.

True equality isn’t just saying: “We’re all the same now.” It’s recognising that we didn’t start from the same position.

When you were born, this country already worked in your favour. You never had to fight for your language to survive. Your ancestors weren’t told their way of life was wrong. You didn’t have to prove your culture was worthy of existing.

But ours was.

And yet, when we stand up and say, “We deserve the same dignity, the same recognition, the same rights you’ve always had,” some of you feel threatened.

But let me ask you this: What has actually been taken from you?

Te reo Māori in schools doesn’t erase English. Māori having a voice in decisions that affect us doesn’t silence you. Honouring Te Tiriti isn’t about punishing Pākehā. It’s about keeping a promise that was made in good faith.

Because here’s what you need to understand: The Crown and Pākehā people are not the same thing.

The Crown is the system. The Crown is the colonial machinery that built itself on our backs. The Crown is the laws, the policies, the institutions that were designed to keep Māori in a place of struggle while protecting the power of the few.

And, too often, we confuse people with power.

Pākehā, we are not here to fight you.

But we are here to fight the system that benefits you while breaking us. We are here to fight the structures that let our babies fill the prisons while yours fill the boardrooms. We are here to fight the mindset that says our culture is only worth celebrating when it’s convenient.

And Pasifika, tauiwi: I see you. I know you feel caught in the middle. You, too, have faced racism in this country. You, too, have fought for your languages, your customs, your dignity. You, too, have been made to feel like you need to shrink yourselves to fit into a system that was never built for you.

And yet, here we all are. Living side by side. Struggling side by side. Trying to find our place.

So let’s be honest with each other. What kind of Aotearoa do we want? One where we keep fighting for scraps? One where we keep tearing each other down because we’re too afraid to build something better?

Or do we want an Aotearoa where we all rise?

Because the truth is, the Crown never had to finish the job of breaking us. Too many of us started doing it for them.

Māori keeping other Māori down. Pākehā treating equity like a threat. Pasifika being told to assimilate. Tauiwi being made to feel like they should just stay quiet and be grateful.

That is not the Aotearoa we were promised. And it is not the Aotearoa we have to accept.

Māori: Our tūpuna fought for our survival. Don’t be the reason we have to fight each other. Be proud in a way that lifts, not in a way that crushes. Be the Māori your mokopuna will be proud to call their ancestor.

Pākehā: Change is uncomfortable. But discomfort isn’t oppression. Frustration isn’t injustice. And when Māori ask for fairness, it’s not an attack on you. It’s a call to walk forward together.

Pasifika: You are not guests here. You are kin. Your struggles are our struggles. Your victories are our victories. And we stand stronger when we stand together.

Tauiwi: You chose this whenua. And with that choice comes a responsibility. Not just to live here, but to understand what “here” truly means. To honour the history that came before you and to stand with the people who carry it forward.

Because, whether we like it or not, we are moving forward.

And the truth is, it doesn’t have to be a fight.

So let’s put down the fear, the resentment, the gatekeeping, the mana-munching, and the idea that one side has to lose for the other to win.

Let’s make this whenua what it was always meant to be: a place where we can stand side by side, as equals, with a foundation strong enough for all of us.

Nō reira, fix your crowns, kings and queens. Uplift your own. Uplift others. And stop doing the enemy’s work for them.

“We are here to fight the structures that let our babies fill the prisons while yours fill the boardrooms.” Heemi and moko. (Photo supplied)

Heemi Mahauariki is a 41-year-old father and grandfather from Ngāti Raukawa ki te Tonga. He now lives on the Gold Coast in Australia, where he is a disability support worker.

E-Tangata, 2025