Valedictory Statements

I just want to inform members that following the valedictory statements, the House will suspend for the dinner break and resume at 7.30 p.m. for further consideration of the Appropriation (2023/24 Estimates) Bill and the Imprest Supply (Second for 2023/24) Bill. Members, I call on Dr Emily Henderson to make her valedictory statement.

E te Māngai o te Whare Pāremata, for the last time: tēnā koe. This is an incredible job. This is an incredible place. This is an incredible team. Admittedly, it’s a team I never expected to join—and let’s be honest, you were as shocked as I was!

But the welcome, especially from Kelvin and Willow, my brother and sister in arms in team Te Tai Tokerau, and from the gloriously talented team 2020, the warmth and the wraparound has made the decision to leave so soon so much harder.

And not only the team here; I’m also leaving the team up there in the gallery. The wonderful crew from my office: Audrey Van Dalen, Denise Phillips, Emma McLean, Glen Service, and Judy Riggir; not to mention my wonderful local party exec and volunteers, family, everyone.

But the truth is, I didn’t really stand in 2020 with any expectation of winning. And as wonderful as this caucus is and as deeply as I believe in its work—and if you cut me open, you would find “Labour” stencilled across my heart—I have come to believe in the words of the prayer that opens every sitting day, in “justice”, in “humility”, and with as much “wisdom” as I can muster, this is not the way I best serve New Zealand.

I had been researching and writing about how to reform the court system and make it safer for vulnerable people for 25 years before I entered this place. Over the years, I’d helped introduce a plethora of practice reforms, culminating in the sexual violence court. I’d even managed to shoehorn a few ideas into legislation before becoming MP. There’s been any number of Ministers of Justice of all political persuasions who have had the dubious privilege of listening to my unsolicited ideas.

When I sat down and really thought about the next term, I realised that, as much as I enjoy this job and this team, it’s in that generating of new ideas that I believe I add most value. Maybe the ideas I come up with won’t be the best ideas; maybe I won’t save the justice system; maybe I will leave this place, come up with nothing, and persuade no one; but it’s still the wisest decision I know how to make.

And to those who wonder why, with such a knife-edge seat as mine, I didn’t just quietly wait to lose the election and then go back to my books, well: once bitten, twice shy. When the Whangārei Labour Party asked me to stand in 2020, they were crystal clear that we had no chance of winning then either. When your hometown has been blue for 45 years, it’s hard to expect anything else—even though we are also the town with the most to gain from a Labour Government. For decades, Whangārei has been coming in first at the wrong end of every socio-economic race. When you’ve been deprived for that long, it’s hard to generate any hope for anything better or energy to ask. Poverty is the only thing that ever trickled down the neoliberal pipeline in Whangārei.

So I didn’t stand to win; I stood to protest. I stood to protest being taken for granted for 45 years. I stood to protest being ignored. I stood to protest the National Party’s abysmal failure to get funding for our abysmal hospital, for their allowing our social housing to fall apart, for their decision to strip the regions of road maintenance funding for nearly a decade. I stood to protest the sheer failure to make an effort that comes when you’re arrogant enough to take a region for granted for almost 50 years, even when you know the depth of its need.

And if there is one thing Labour proved to Whangārei on election day 2020 and every day since, including the day we got our new hospital funded and all the days we got our hundreds of new social houses and the day we got our Port Road bridge and funded our Vinegar Hill bridge and our port rail link and opened our cardiac catheterisation lab and our colonoscopy unit and all the other days, we proved that day that Whangārei won’t be taken for granted anymore.

Whangārei has stopped feeling whakamā about our modest hopes. We can and will demand better for ourselves and our children. And I’m warning you now: I’ve made it my mission while in this job to talk to our people, especially our young people, about how to demand better. I mentioned our new hospital; I’d almost say my proudest moment as MP was when the usually very patient health Minister Andrew Little stood up at its announcement and complained bitterly that he’d had to give in because the local MP made his ears bleed.

But my actual proudest MP moment was one of my regular Whangārei Girls’ High visits, where I learnt that a group of girls from Raumanga and Otaika—two of our poorest suburbs—had taken on board our previous session about petitioning Parliament, and now had over 1,000 signatures demanding we extend our free school lunch policy. Now, it might not be great party discipline to be encouraging constituents to pressure your own Government, but that’s my single proudest moment. Because those girls—so shy they had to come and see me in a little huddle and took many attempts to get their words out—now know how to demand better.

I know who I think should take my seat. [Points to Angie Warren-Clark] I believe in her so much, I’ve even become her campaign manager. But whoever takes over, don’t you ever do Whangārei the disrespect of taking it for granted again. Because if you do, the girls from Raumanga and Otaika and Tikipunga and Otangarei and Morningside and Raurimu—the girls and boys of all our beaten-down suburbs—are rising up, and they demand better. What will stop them—especially will stop them from fulfilling my ultimate dream of seeing some of them in this House—is not just the challenges of the places they come from, it’s also going to be the challenges of this place.

I’m here as part of the most gender-equal, Māori-, Pasifika-, rainbow-inclusive Government ever—a Government in which my Whangārei rangatahi can, for the first time, truly see themselves reflected. In this caucus, I knew I could say anything, argue hard, be myself, and say my piece. I knew my views were respected even when we disagreed. But the space for constructive debate and the ability to tolerate opposing views outside the caucus room and amongst the public—especially in the toxic swamp of social media—that space has changed significantly.

Now, don’t get me wrong: it takes more than a bit of trolling to silence a tough old courtroom lawyer, especially one who survived raising four extremely opinionated teenagers—and I’m also Pākehā. But for young political aspirants without similar advantages, politics is starting to look like a very difficult ask. Every day in Whangārei, I hear concerns about how intimidating even ordinary voters without political ambitions are finding entering into political discussions. No one who has led through the last few years—even obscure backbench MPs like me in my beloved Whangārei—can be in any doubt that the culture has changed. But the people in this place still have the power to steer us away from division. As someone about to step back into the mass of ordinary voters, I’m asking you today to use that power. I get we won’t ever play “Kumbaya” and hold hands across the aisle here. I’m not naïve, I come from the courts—we invented adversarial argument, and this place is nothing if not democracy’s courtroom.

We need a strong Opposition to test the Government from every angle. But as someone from the courts—someone who’s spent a lifetime trying to reform the courts—there’s danger when adversarial argument stops being about testing and becomes about winning alone. That’s the nub of the problem in the courts. In rape cases or cases with vulnerable witnesses, lawyers who think their sole responsibility is to get a win will do virtually anything with any means necessary—even when that drowns out and distorts the evidence. In a normal election, that might not matter so much. But these aren’t normal times. Normally, extremism rolls right off New Zealanders, but this is a time of heightened anxiety, when many voters are undeniably on edge, struggling to come to terms with an uncertainty we haven’t had to face since the 1930s. Scared people notoriously seek scapegoats, and it’s the easiest and oldest trick in the book to tap into that fear and prejudice and drive a wedge into the community.

I would not suggest anyone in here is about to jump the conspiracy bandwagon, but, in an election year, there’s a temptation to at least try and tap into some of that energy. It’s there when politicians start using the language of “taking back our country” from minorities. It’s there when politicians ignore the actual facts and, instead, go around telling people that they’re unsafe and crime is out of control—and, when confronted, that the facts don’t matter as much as the fears. It’s there when politicians start saying “the apocalypse is nigh” because we’re about to put two of our official languages on street signs—even when their leader led the charge to turn our major carrier into a hotbed of bilingualism. Demonising the neighbours is as simple as turning a deeply boring bit of legislation about pipes into a crusade against overreaching Māori. The temptation to divide in order to rule is clearly present, and it is a danger—including in the increasing attacks on the independence of the judiciary, coming from this House.

Every time someone in leadership weaponises the power of that scapegoating—against whatever people—it licenses some unbalanced person to take their frustrations out on an actual person. It’s only a few years since UK MP Jo Cox was murdered by white supremacy conspiracy theorists. Now, Jo Cox herself, in her maiden speech, just over a year before her murder, famously said that all of us, whatever our ethnicities or allegiances, “have far more in common than that which divides us.”

As someone about to fade back into the mass of ordinary Kiwi voters who depend on you to keep us safe, I’m asking you to heed her words. All it takes for democracy to crumble is for people to stop believing in it, to stop honouring the concept of shared power, shared decision-making; the idea that he waka eke noa—a whole community can be represented in here, in this place, and make decisions for the whole with a reasonable degree of fairness and efficiency. We need a new way to debate this. We need a politics that doesn’t play games with peoples’ emotions. We need a politics that isn’t afraid to lead from the front. We need a politics that isn’t afraid to admit solutions are complicated, that isn’t afraid to make tough decisions and trust us to catch up. We need a politics that has more respect for the people it serves, for our intelligence, for our realities, and for our futures.

So, as an ordinary voter, I wish you all sufficient courage of your convictions to stand firm against those who seek to stoke the fires of hatred and resentment and divide our community. This place may not be perfect, but it is a good place—the beating heart of a strong democracy. I wish you the confidence to stand firm and assert its strength and goodness, even if it occasionally means admitting you agree with the other side of the House.

It only remains for me to look up into the gallery and thank my wonderful family and friends for their support of me personally, especially my sisters and brothers, my mum and dad, my wonderful argumentative kids, and, most of all, Thomas—I’m so glad to be coming home at last. Mr Speaker, this House is, ultimately, not my home. I resign it to those who, in justice, in humility, and, yes, with a considerable degree of wisdom, will go on to serve here for the welfare and peace of the people of Aotearoa, New Zealand. Tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou katoa.

[Applause]

Waiata—If I Had Words

E te Mana Whakawā, e ngā mana, e ngā iwi, e reo e ngā hau, e whā e ngā kārangaranga maha tēnā koutou katoa.

[The Speaker, the authority, the iwi, the voices, the four winds, and the many ethnicities, sincere greetings to you all.]

Ou te manatu ua sā le vao, ua sā foi le sami. Ua sā vasa i vasā, aua o lea ua taufai sunu‘i ao o le lagi. O lea ua liligo le fogātia ua paū le tua'au mafuamalu. Aua ua pa‘ia le faatafafā o le Maotafono Faitulafono Aoao o Aotearoa nei. Ua pa‘ia Tamalelagi aua le aiga Sā Levi ua aofaga potopoto. Ua pa‘ia foi tama a le mālo, aua le tapuaiga o upufai o Mālo i Aotearoa, Samoa ma le Pasefika loaloa, Ua pa‘ia tama o le laueleele nei aua Māori, e faasino i fanua ma eleele. Aua le fale alii o Tainui Maori, auā King Tūheitia Potatau Te Wherowhero Tuawhitu. Aemaise uo ma e masani ma aufaigaluega a le Mālo. Tulou, tulou, tulouna ia.

Kia orana tatou katoatoa. Fakaalofa lahi atu ki a mutolu oti. Mālō ni. Tāloha ni. Talofa, Tuvalu. Mālō e laumālie. Mālō ‘aupito, kainga Tonga. Ni sa bula vinaka. Noa‘ia ‘e mauri. Warm Pacific greetings to one and all.

I’ve conveyed my utmost respects to the mana of the land of Aotearoa, the sea, this House and its people, for this is my home. I have conveyed my highest respects to the mana of the many people, Government leaders, diplomatic corps, MPs, local government, NGOs, churches, our chiefs and traditional leaders, friends, and public servants present tonight, including my family and those who have travelled from overseas to be here and those who are listening from across the oceans. You are my community. I’ve also expressed my deep respects to Māori, the people of the land, and the Kīngitanga, for you are my kin.

My heart is filled with gratitude and it is my absolute pleasure to stand here tonight—semi-naked, of course—to present my final remarks in Parliament. In the last seven months, I’ve been saying farewell to the Pacific communities of Aotearoa New Zealand. This was my tour of duty with my community, where we’ve cried, we’ve danced, we’ve eaten pork, we’ve drunk kava on many occasions. I got lifted up once and got carried by the elders of the Cook Islands community while others chanted. All the time, I was fearful I would cause injury to someone—they were elderly—and then feeling glad I was no longer the Minister responsible for Pacific Health.

I want to pay tribute to all the Pacific mamas who have continued to feed me as they farewelled me. They are the ones that get things done all the time. Prime Minister, you need the mamas on your side if you want to win this election. I see them in the public sector, in health and education and employment, even in this House. They do a lot of work for our communities. In fact, during the election year, most of my colleagues would lose weight as they got so busy campaigning they didn’t eat. I didn’t have that problem. I put on weight because everywhere I went, all the Pacific mamas would feed me wherever I go, and they wouldn’t let me go until I’d eaten something, and then they put food in my car.

I received so many reflections from the Pacific community about my time here as the MP for Māngere and as the Minister for Pacific Peoples. Perhaps what remains to be said is for me to express my absolute gratitude to everyone here tonight. There are so many people who have made sacrifices of their time, given me counsel, your personal resources, and have supported me throughout. Whilst there are so many to name, I do express my gratitude to Vui Mark Gosche, Luamanuvao Dame Winnie Laban, Faamoetauloa Jerome Mika, Paul Retimanu, the Māngere Labour Party—are you in the House? Yeah. I want to acknowledge also those of our Māngere Labour Party who are no longer with us, who passed away, and the many volunteers. To each of you I say fa‘afetai, fa‘afetai, fa‘afetai tele lava. Thank you so much.

Pacific peoples’ representation in Parliament only started in 1993, with Taito and Anae. After them came Vui, then Luamanuvao and Charles Chauvel. I came along as the fifth Labour MP of Pacific heritage, first Samoan born, and, as the late aunties Fili Fiu and Liz Lee-Lo of the Service and Food Workers Union would say, I also was the youngest and most handsomest of the lot.

As I reflect on the maiden speech I gave on 1 April 2008, the issues I raised then are just as relevant today as they were in 2008. The work must continue, and I wish all the best to those who will take it up, especially members of the Labour Party Pacific caucus in the next Government. Tonight I want to focus on the future of Pacific peoples of Aotearoa, attempt to lift the spirits, hopes, and dreams of our Pacific youth, and offer a few challenges to those who wish to lead New Zealand in the future.

In 2018, Grant Robertson as Minister of Finance and myself launched a new Treasury report called The New Zealand Pacific Economy. It is the first report of its kind, which showed that for a small population, Pacific peoples contributed $8 billion to New Zealand’s economy, despite the inequities and barriers they face. We knew then as a Government that Pacific peoples needed a long-term vision in order to remove barriers and address the inequities they face. To make an impactful difference required a significant investment across a number of Government agencies. It required everyone working hard and moving at pace to establish foundations of wellbeing that would endure, and that’s what we did. We worked hard and at pace to deliver a Pacific Wellbeing Strategy across a number of Government agencies, with investments and outcome measurements. We delivered for Pacific languages; housing; health; education; science, technology, engineering, the arts, and mathematics pathways; Tupu Aotearoa employment opportunities; and business. Even my uncle thanked me for an increase in the minimum wage when it reached $21, and then he asked whether he can get another one next year. This is the work that must continue.

Thank you to all the staff of Ministry for Pacific Peoples for all your hard work and support for our community, Pacific communities, and your support of me during my time as Minister. You were always my favourite ministry because the challenges you face were always insurmountable.

Yet, when we as a country ensure that Pacific peoples of Aotearoa are strong, resilient, thriving, and prosperous, we are also ensuring that New Zealand as a whole benefits, for Pacific people are the youngest and fastest-growing population. We have to prepare the next generation to succeed so that Aotearoa New Zealand succeeds. They are the future workforce, future business owners, and taxpayers required to produce for the rapid ageing population.

We also launched in 2018 Lalanga Fou goals of economic prosperity, thriving languages and culture, healthy and wealthy families, and a focus on Pacific youth to live confident, thriving, resilient, prosperous lives.

I set out our future direction then for our Government and Pacific peoples of Aotearoa based on the age-old saying “O le aso ma le filiga, o le aso ma le mata‘igā tila.”, a saying rooted in the voyaging practices of Samoa, where each leg of the journey is marked by arrival; we check our canoes to see if all is well, then prepare for the next leg of the journey and, whilst others ended up staying to establish new settlements, the voyage will continue to find new horizons. In other words, moving forward, “e sa‘ili Mālo”, to pursue better opportunities for the next generation. And that’s the challenge to future Governments.

To the Ministry of Health pacific team and health officials, including the Pacific health providers and church and community leaders, I will always credit you for your tireless efforts to keep our community safe and protected during the COVID pandemic. Thank you also to the Pacific diplomats for your role in giving confidence to our people throughout the challenging period, especially my colleagues, the Consulate-General of the Cook Islands and Samoa in Auckland.

To Jacinda Ardern, thank you for the opportunity to be a member of your Government, for supporting my council. I will never forget how I attempted to control my motions when I was first asked to travel with the Pacific Islands Forum to represent you in Rome two weeks after I was sworn in as a Minister. Then when you asked in 2019 that you and Winston Peters would like me to accompany you to the United Nations General Assembly, I simply said, “Yes, Prime Minister.”—but I could have jumped out of that vehicle we were in, I was so excited.

I remember the swell of emotion, also, when you agreed we would deliver the Dawn Raids apology and I couldn’t go to sleep, thinking through every detail of what needed to happen and I cried. Then it seemed like I couldn’t stop crying. I was even more emotional when you agreed to participate in the ifoga, despite your reservations, fa‘afetai tele lava. However, Pacific immigration settings is work that remains to be completed.

To Grant Robertson, the Minister of Finance, thank you very much to you and your Treasury officials for your amazing willingness to listen, understand and support the Pacific bids. It’s not always easy when you’ve also got Minister Willie Jackson and Minister Winston Peters breathing down your neck for their slice of the Budget pie. You, above all, I wish to pay tribute to because you kept your word with me and turned up to front our Pacific communities every year.

To all of my former ministerial colleagues and Labour Party caucus, including the fighting-fit Pacific and Māori caucuses: thank you so much, we had a blast, but there is still so much more that needs to be done and a lot is at risk.

To Prime Minister Chris Hipkins, I thank you for your support and our work during the COVID pandemic. I appreciate that you listened to my challenges on Pacific health matters for Aotearoa and across the Pacific through the Pacific health corridor, and I am grateful for your support in the Pacific education space as we pushed for reform on Pacific languages, Pacific history, Pacific scholarship, and Pacific staffing. We have a saying in Samoan: “E afua mai mauga faamanuiaga i le nuu.”—from the mountains flow the blessings unto the villages. I believe that you are a mountain of a man: solid, steadfast, and immovable in your values and doing the right thing for others. You are doing a great job as Prime Minister.

Thank you to Minister Winston Peters who texted me to say he gives me his apologies and your team and Ministers James Shaw and Marama Davidson of the Green Party, fa‘afetai tele lava; it’s been a wonderful journey working with you, and I always appreciated your support. I’ll never forget how Minister Shaw and I were so excited, two weeks into being sworn as Ministers, we were off to Germany to the climate change COP meetings. We both agreed to address climate change refugees. Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade officials had advised us on a humanitarian visa and away we went, using it every speech, media interview, and I was promoting it to the Pacific Island leaders. And when we returned, my political adviser asked me “Did you consult Winston?” “Oops,” I said, “I forgot.” Thank you, Winston, for your understanding and support.

After meeting Pope Francis on that trip, I was able to show him that this is the hand that shook the hand of Pope Francis, and perhaps that may have settled the anger he may have had against me and Mr Shaw—or maybe not!

Mr Speaker, I bet when the “no tie” rule was introduced, you didn’t think an MP would extend it to “no shirt”, did you? Sir, that’s not my intention tonight, nor is it my intention to compete in an ab competition—I’m sure that Mr Stuart Nash will win that! As you can see, I’m a family pack kind of person! Nor is it my intention to compete with the hat of Mr Rawiri Waititi of Te Paati Māori. His hat is a colonial construct, and my tuiga is a traditional, reserved only for special occasions, made in West Auckland.

I’m in my traditional attire as a matai of my aiga Samoa, reserved for special events such as tonight. The Kīngitanga, the Tainui elders, plus K'aute Pasifika will know better than most of the symbolism of my attire, and I invite people to make inquiries of them. I present myself this way as a sign of respect to the Pacific communities and traditional leaders who have supported me and also to my families, the many families, aiga Sā Aupito, aiga Sā Tiumalu, Toelesulusulu, Tofae, and Su‘a, all those connected to the genealogies in those families. O so‘u taupega‘afa ma so‘u maluāpapa ou te malu ai. They who have protected me; to them all I say: “Faafetai tele lava mo le tapua‘iga mamana.”

I’m also in my traditional attire, because I want to give confidence to the people who look like me—tall, dark, and handsome—that they can know that they too can be standing where I’m standing and to be proud of who they are and to not be afraid to claim the right to sit at the decision-making table at all levels of Aotearoa. I stand proudly this way to make a statement for the sake of Pacific youth of Aotearoa. I am showing them that it is OK to be different, that they can be proud of their cultural heritage, even if they are just half and half or quarter like many of my nieces and nephews and my grandchildren; that it is OK to be a member of the rainbow community, too; and that it is OK to use pronouns—he, him, and they, them—and I want to thank my former staff, Nelly and Lou, for many lessons in that regard.

And if you are a Christian, Muslim, or whatever faith you profess it, OK, but allow all others to worship how, where, and what they may; don’t criticise or condemn, but try to understand. I say to all Pacific youth: it is OK to love and be proud of your point of difference; it is OK to love your cultural heritage even if you don’t speak the language; it is OK to pursue your dreams, and don’t ever allow your surroundings or anyone to prevent you from that pursuit. My late mother would say to me, “If there is anything virtuous, lovely, of good report, or praiseworthy, we should seek after these things”. She also said to me, “Whatever thou art, act well thy part”. Be proud of your cultural intelligence, your language and your community and never leave it outside the doors of your workplace. Your language gives you direct access to thousands of years of experience and insights into how to navigate life. Take that with you wherever you go. Nurture it, study it, pursue it, be proud of it. I say again to the Pacific youth of Aotearoa: be proud of your being “generation B”—brown, beautiful, brainy, bilingual, bicultural, and bold—and to remember that only in Māngere our young people are the “generation eight Bs”, because they are just bloody brilliant.

To all the candidates in this upcoming election, beware of demonising young people. If you stick with the Ministry of Justice facts, you’ll find the data shows fewer youth are offending but the severity of the offence has increased. I challenge you to see the youth of New Zealand, especially Māori and Pacific, for the potential that they can become for Aotearoa New Zealand.

For all our youth, the best way of pushing back on politicians is voting on election day against those who use colonial constructs that divide and rule. It has been an absolute pleasure to work with the team at the Ministry of Justice as the first Pacific Minister for Courts. We did some wonderful work in funding and supporting the work of tribunals, funding the coroner’s reform, the youth court, and the judicially led Te Ao Mārama programme. I thank the judiciary for their leadership in using therapeutic principles to address the challenges victims and offenders face when it comes to mental health, drug addiction, anger management, homelessness, or fetal alcohol spectrum disorder. This is also work that must continue. I ask the Chief District Court Judge and your peers, the Principal Family Court Judge, and the Principal Youth Court Judge Ida Malosi: please do not slow down on your leadership with Te Ao Mārama programme. It enables access to justice for all New Zealanders and improves our justice system in the long run.

When I announced I was leaving, my wife Jean reminded me that my youngest son Daniel is 23 years old—he’s going to be embarrassed now—and that’s how long I’ve been playing my politics, she said. She didn’t say it, but in other words, I haven’t been around home that much, and she is absolutely correct and I want the Hansard record to reflect that I was only able to focus all my time and energy on my role as an MP for Māngere and as a Minister in the Jacinda Ardern Government because my family supported me. They grounded me. They sacrificed to allow me to take up what many would argue is the greatest calling in the world: to serve the public, to serve my community, to serve my fellow human beings, to serve Aotearoa New Zealand, to serve Māngere, to serve the Pacific, to serve the New Zealand Labour Party to the best of my abilities, and I have absolutely enjoyed and loved every minute of it.

To my wife Jean and our children Losa, Mausey, Fred, Makisha junior, Maimoana, Joan and Daniel and your spouses and children, thank you very much. To my children in the US: Joshua, Makisha senior, and Jacob and your families, fa‘afetai tele lava. To my father, Aupito Snr, the last of the Mohicans, the last of his generation, who recently turned 85 years in Samoa: you have always been my unofficial campaign manager in South Auckland. You can now promote your many other grandkids and daughters.

Faafetai mo lau tapua‘iga. Thank you for your constant prayers, words of encouragement, support, and for being proud of my service. To my siblings Tutoatasi Taoa, Soloau Lipine, Suausi Viena, Tiumalu Noma, Faatonu, Lolly, and Yvonne and your spouses and your children, including my late brother Kenneth, thank you for being honest and frank with me all the time.

To all my wonderful nieces and nephews, thank you for keeping me real. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for making me feel special whilst you also made your own decisions; like I would later find out that some of you voted for the Green Party and Māori Party while all the time making me feel that you were supporting me all the way. Good thing was I never once heard them mention the other parties, so I’m proud of you. Keep it that way in this election. Remember that Labour and Chris Hipkins are in it for you, and he’s the Chris with hair.

On the walls of this House, are 12 carved circular rimu memorial wreaths around the balcony. Each bears a ribbon with the name of a significant engagement involving New Zealand troops in World War I. There, above your seat, Mr Speaker, is the memorial wreath and ribbon for Samoa. It marks New Zealand’s first World War I engagement, when they sent 1,400 New Zealand soldiers to capture German Samoa at the request of Great Britain. The New Zealand Expeditionary Force Advance Party sailed from Wellington on 15 August and landed at Apia on 29 August 1914. From that year onwards, New Zealand occupied Samoa and continued to administer it until Samoa won its independence in 1962.

The New Zealand colonial administrators did more harm during their colonial rule from 1914 to 1962. They forced my ancestors off their lands in Satapuala village to build an airport for the war. There are horrible stories of rape and pillage and killings that the late chief To'alepaiali'i Toeolesulusulu Salesa III shared with me. There was the deliberate infection of the local population when, on 7 November 1918, the New Zealand military administration controlling Samoa, led by Colonel Robert Logan, made the deadly decision to knowingly allow the ship Talune, which was carrying Spanish influenza, to dock at Apia. The results were catastrophic, wiping out over a quarter of Samoa’s population and decimating entire families and villages. Colonel Logan refused the offer of medical help from Tutuila, American Samoa. When the local Samoan leaders protested and revived the Mau movement, they were banished from Samoa. They were taken and imprisoned, some in Mount Eden. Many were stripped of their Samoan Matai titles and moved off their land. When they were in Mount Eden, Māori visited them and gave aid.

Then there was the horrific shooting by New Zealand Military Police on the Mau independence demonstrators in Apia, where 11 Samoans were shot to death, including the independence leader of High Chief Tupua Tamasese Lealofi III. Saturday, 28 December 1929 became known as Black Saturday, and I have been singing wherever I have gone as a Minister the song “O le fana taavili ua oteote mai” because that song tells of that story, so I don’t forget this history. Prime Minister Helen Clark apologised in 2002 for the wrongs and harms caused during New Zealand’s colonial rule. More must be done. The Treaty of Friendship that New Zealand holds with Samoa is the only one it has. It is the document that has to be enhanced to achieve restitution for the harms caused and wrongs committed. It is not for Samoa to ask for it; it is for New Zealand to right those wrongs tangibly. This is the history that I hope will now be taught in our schools as part of New Zealand’s history curriculum. By teaching this history, New Zealand can become a better country. By understanding the mistakes that have been made in the past, future generations can learn not to keep repeating the folly of past Governments. Climate change still remains the single-biggest security threat in the Pacific and will remain so. More must be done. We save ourselves when we save the Pacific.

In conclusion, to my political staff Chris McAvoy, Nina Sudiono-Price, Chris Harrington, Tasha Thomas, and others, and to my Māngere electorate staff, Delilah, Ara, Makalita, Maria, Florence, and the many volunteers, thank you so much for your dedication and support of me. Thank you to the Māngere Labour Party. To the sisters who have travelled from afar to be here—Carol, thank you very much. Pacific vice presidents, the New Zealand Labour Council, and the Auckland Northland council, our local board members in Auckland Council—there are no words to convey my gratitude to you all. I pay tribute to all the seconded staff from the Ministry for Pacific Peoples, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade, the Ministry of Education, the Ministry of Justice, and the Ministry of Health who worked in my office, and all the Government agency officials. We did some amazing and wonderful work that we can be very proud of, and I think I had the best team ever as a Minister. To all our health and education providers, Pacific groups and churches, my advisory groups, the Pacific expert advisory group—words cannot express my heartfelt appreciation, nor can I repay your dedication. I will dance for you tonight. To our Pacific communities of Aotearoa, to our Orometua, our religious and faith leaders, our traditional leaders, chiefs and artists, and our mamas in particular, fa‘afetai. To all of you, I say: “Meitaki Atupaka, Meitaki Ma‘ata, Meitaki Ranunui, Meitaki Kororeka, Faafetai, Faafetai tele lava, Fakafetai lasi, Fekauelahi, Malo Aupito, Vinaka Vakalevu”.

Thank you, thank you, thank you very, very much.

[Applause, hongi, and harirū]

Waiata—Ua Faafetai, Ua Faafetai, Ua Malie Mata E Vaai

Sitting suspended from 6.20 p.m. to 7.30 p.m.