Te Reo O Raukawa 89FM – A Maori Radio Station

Tu Tangata, Issue 30, 1 July 1986, Page 23

Te Reo O Raukawa 89FM - A Maori Radio Station

Ka pai te ngakau o o tatou kuia ki nga tangata nei, me o ratou whakaaro aroha kite reo Maori. Ka ki mai a Pari no Kiribati, he tino rawe rawa atu tana haere mai ki waenganui i te tangata whenua, kite whakapuaki korero. No te mutunga o a raua korero, ka waiata ratou i tetehi waiata moteatea no o ratou whenua tupu.

Tenei te mihi ki nga kaiwhakahaere o te Wellington Missionary Radio Fellowship, na ratou tenei teihana i whakatu. Ka nui hoki te mihi kite BCNZ mo nga awhina i te taha moni me era atu awhina katoa.

He waiata no Katihiku Takoki takoki Nga rori i Katihiku Ka koki hoki O taua wairua ei.

Pipiri nga whetu Te marama i te rangi Pipiri hoki O taua wairua ei.

Greetings to you all. Te Reo o Raukawa 89FM is the Maori Radio Station which ran for 20 days in February and March 1986. The short term station was the second run by the Wananga o Raukawa from Otaki, out of a small building behind the Wananga o Raukawa. Here is Uncle Rua MacDonald, an old boy of the building in its original form as the Otaki Native Boys College Hostel, being interviewed by Te Kenehi Taylor on Te Reo o Raukawa, on the first days of the broadcast:-

“In our day this building was the ironing room.

“When I was attending the college the ironing tables and irons were all standing in rows here. We were taught to iron clothes, to wash our shirts, all those things. And now its been renovated by Uncle Joe and the team as a radio studio for Te Reo o Raukawa, our Maori Radio Station.”

The building has also been a house in its time, and still has the former garages where the headmaster kept his big straight 6, with its wide running boards. It looks like an old fashioned wooden post office, standing in its paddock, with bobby calves looking in the windows; its radio cables on a big mast sticking up above the roof.

About ten of us had travelled to the beach at four in the morning. Two of us

wanted to do a news report on Halley’s Comet from the stretch of sand running up from the Otaki river mouth. We had the tape recorder going, in the darkness. “Can you see the comet Huia?” “No. Where should I look. To the east, or to the north? If we don’t see it, we won’t have much of a news report.” “I don’t know. All I really know is to come down here in the early morning.”

“No sign of the comet. Did you know Huia, that Te Auahituroa is a knowledgeable star? An Atua. It’s looking at you and weighing up your sins. You must have committed a lot, that’s why it won’t reveal itself.”

“In that case Piripi, we’d better drop you off back at the Wananga.”

Kia ora e Koro! (knocking on the door of his home). “Are you there? We’ve come to get you for the radio station remember? For the story session with the other kaumatua.” “Oh gee. I’m in bed having a lie down. That’s what age does. Come in.” We go inside, and into the koroua’s room. “Are you unwell?” says Aunty Kiripuai. “Yes, a bit dizzy and sick. Not too good today.” “Don’t move then. You stay in bed and rest. Another day when you’re fully recovered, we’ll go over to Reo o Raukawa to talk.” The radio is going. “Did you hear the radio much this morning?” “Yeah. Its good for people who aren’t well. The body isn’t active, and I have to lie in bed. Then I hear these old talks in Maori, songs, and jokes, it keeps the soul alive.”

Pikikotuku introduces a song on the radio:“The parents of the ancestor Raukawa were Turongo and Mahinarangi, from their union, into the world came the forebear of Ngati Raukawa.” “Ei, awai e! Go on! The koroua cheers. “Gee, you’re all skites! You’re all whakahihi about your radio station. Beauty though!” Four days later Koro is in the station on air:— “When we were little kids we used to go to uhunga on horseback. All the women with mokos rode horses, with their babies on their backs, and fresh meat slung over the horses back

“Where’s our tape recorder?” “I don’t know.” “Who’s doing the request show tonight?” “I’m tuckered out man. I need a bath.” “Can the station pay me back for the Dionne Warwick record? “Heni’s got the tape recorder. She’s gone out to talk to her kuia at Katihiku pa.” “Her kuia lived all her life there, she knows all about the old gardens and fishing. Another kuia has gone with her too.” That night Heni comes back with her tapes. We sit in the library of Te Wananga and listen to her and her kuia. “We used to go and get pipi and dry them, then thread them onto flax, when they were dry they would be taken away as food, for the winter times when food was short.” When the conversation finished the two kuia sang a pao from Katihiku from generations now gone. Their voices on the tape are clear and gentle. Meanwhile the door behind us is open, and Uncle Iwi and Aunty Lil are leaning against the wall listening.

They come in quietly after a while and sit down to hear about the old days from Aunty Ramari, recorded by Heni on the big black tape recorder.

One day the phone rings. A voice says:-

“My name is Mori Morizumi. I am a professor of indigenous languages at Tokyo University. I want to come and see your station, with my friend Pari from Kiribati.”

They are welcome to come. After their arrival, mihi and cup of tea, they have an interview on the radio.

Professor Morizumi is anxious about the survival of Maori

“To me there are three things which must be done. First, official recognition of the language, to make it equal to English in the Courts, in the law and machinery of Government, and in Parliament.”

“Secondly, to allow the language to flourish within education, in order that parents can choose the language of instruction of their children.”

Thirdly, and this is very important. The language must be audible on radio and television to Maori people everywhere. I want to know when public Broadcasting will establish a Maori Radio Station.”

Pari talks about Broadcasting on the Kiribati Radio Station, and his feelings of gratitude that he has come to a place like the one he comes from. Then they each sing a song from home.