Maiden Statements

In accordance with the determination of the Business Committee, we will now hear maiden speeches. I call on Hūhana Lyndon to make her maiden address to Parliament.

I te tekau mā whā ka ū te whakapono e i

Ki runga i Ōihi, ka tū Te Mātenga e i

Ko te kupu tēnei, kei te rangi te Atua

Me huri koutou, me titiro ki reira e i

Ka huri te Māori, ka titiro whakarunga e i

Ka huri Te Mātenga, ka titiro whakararo e i

Ki te papa oneone, ki Aotearoa e

Taiapa rawa mai ki te pāraharaha e i

Ki te pātītī, ki te rōria rino e

Ki te paraikete whero nāu, e te Kāwana e i

Kua riro te whenua, e tere rā ki te moana e i.

[On the fourteenth, faith is confirmed

At Ōihi, Samuel Marsden stands

This is the word, God is in heaven

You all must turn, you must look there

The Māori turns and looks up

Samuel Marsden turns and looks down

To the earthy soil of Aotearoa

The wide spaces are truly fenced off

By paddocks, by iron shackles

By the red blanket that is yours, Governor

The land is lost, flee to the sea.]

“I te tekau mā whā”, a waiata tawhito that commemorates the first sermon in Aotearoa delivered by Samuel Marsden—“Te Mātenga”—on Christmas Day, 1814, in a place called Ōihi in the Bay of Islands. This waiata whakahē [song of opposition] was written a hundred years after that first sermon was delivered and reminds us of our colonial history. As our tūpuna looked to the heavens for guidance, our land was taken by the Crown for the cost of a red blanket, a hatchet, or a Jew’s harp. You see, the hapū of Whangārei only retain 2 percent of our tribal estate today. Our people were left destitute within our own tribal rohe. This is our story.

Ko Hūhana Lyndon taku ingoa. E ai ki te kōrero a Aperahama Taonui, “Ehara ahau i te rīwai. E tū rangatira ana ahau ki runga i tōku tūrangawaewae.”

[My name is Hūhana Lyndon. According to the statement of Aperehama Taonui, “I am not a potato. I nobly stand on my land where I belong.”]

I stand today with my rangatiratanga, on my tūrangawaewae.

Ahumairangi, Tangitekeo, Te Whanganui a Tara ki tōku rahi a Te Ātiawa, Ngāti Toarangatira, Ngāti Raukawa ki te tonga—e mihi ana. He uri tēnei nō Kāwharu me taku tupuna a Te Haunga.

[Tinakori Hill, Mount Victoria, Wellington Harbour, my people of Te Ātiawa, Ngāti Toarangatira, the southern branch of Ngāti Raukawa, I greet you. I am a descendant of Kāwharu, and my ancestor Te Haunga.]

My ancestor Te Haunga lived at Pāuatahanui. His rohe included Transmission Gully. Once upon a time, Pāuatahanui was pristine. The waters were pure green and blue. The fish life was abundant. This is not the case today. I am here for people and planet.

Parliament is a long way from where I grew up in Pipiwai, Tūparehuia, Ngāraratunua, and Matangirau in the North. I wish to mihi to my tribes Ngātiwai, Ngāti Hine, Ngā Hapū o Whangārei, Whangaroa hoki, Ngāpuhi Nui Tonu, ngā tini whanaunga [my many relations]. Thank you for nourishing me and nurturing me mai rā anō [since way back].

I come to this House with te reo Māori as my patu pounamu, and He Whakaputanga me Te Tiriti o Waitangi as my korowai. Kāhore ahau ki konei mō te hararei e tātou mā—I’m not here for a holiday; I’m here to do the mahi—to tohe and to tūtūki for Te Tai Tokerau.

We’ve just finished a landmark Waitangi commemoration, and on 12 February, we remembered the largest signing of Te Tiriti o Waitangi at Mangungu, Hokianga. But lest we forget the intergenerational pollution of the Hokianga Harbour, nō Hokianga ahau, e kore e warewaretia. [I am from Hokianga, and I will never forget that.]

I reflect on He Whakaputanga, the declaration of sovereignty made by our tūpuna to the world. Ko kore, kore rawa Ngā Hapū o Ngāpuhi i tuku te mana rangatiratanga ki te Karauna. E kore rawa Ngā Hapū o Ngāpuhi e tuku tō tātou tino rangatiratanga ki te Kāwanatanga. Ka whaiwhai tonu mātou, ake ake ake!

[The tribes of Ngāpuhi never ever ceded their noble authority to the Crown. The tribes of Ngāpuhi will never cede our sovereignty to the Government. We will continue to fight for ever and ever!]

On Monday this week, the marine and coastal area High Court hearings commenced in Whangārei for the Whangārei Harbour. It’s outrageous to me that as the hapū of Whangārei, we must stand before the High Court and plead our case to prove our connection and relationship to Whangārei Harbour since 1840.

Meinga meinga? Nā wai i teka? Mā te ture Pākehā e mana ko wai ngā hapū whaipānga ki te moana o Whangārei?

[Is that so? Whose is that lie? Is it really for Pākehā law to authorise who are the interested parties in Whangārei harbour?]

The Crown has the audacity to assume they have mana moana over Whangārei Harbour? After stealing the lands off our people, enabling intergenerational rape of the kaimoana, and releasing tūtae into the harbour for decades, now they think they can determine who has mana moana? Meinga meinga! [Is that so!] No! We will fight this process through the Waitangi Tribunal.

Te Tiriti o Waitangi is not a partnership document. It provides a constitutional relationship between two sovereign nations. As Moana Jackson has shared, “Treaties are not meant to be settled, treaties are meant to be honoured.”, e tātou mā. Te Tiriti is our road map for mahi tahi [collaboration].

I come into this Whare as a kaimahi mō taku iwi [as a worker for my people] and acknowledge that mana rangatiratanga [sovereign authority] sits with our hapū and iwi. Te Iwi Māori are intergenerational. We remember our past as we walk forward to the future. We’re always looking a hundred years ahead. Governments come and Governments go, but, like Tumutumuwhenua, we are from the soil of this land.

I am the eldest child of teenage parents and am fortunate to know three of my great-grandparents. Raised in the reo of my father, despite my age, I am youth adjacent. I’m a foundation mokopuna of Te Kōhanga Reo o Ngā Tau e Toru in Pipiwai. Ko Te Orewai te hapū, ko Ngāti Hine te iwi. [Te Orewai is the hapū, Ngāti Hine is the iwi.] Tihei mauri ora!

My upbringing is not too dissimilar to many whānau. We moved house a lot for my dad’s work, and I attended seven schools in primary and secondary school. But we learnt to adapt. In our housing, we had housing insecurity, like many whānau—living at the Ngunguru caravan park and in State houses—but we had a good life. With whānau support and getting a good education, my parents purchased their first home in Whangārei many years ago.

We were raised with a life of discipline, in academics and sports. Our hāhi was the tennis court, and our school was the Collins Encyclopaedia set that my parents invested in when we lived in Lower Hutt. My parents were heavily involved in our school lives, and this was backed up by strong granny support. I’m grateful to have my grandmother and her sister in the Whare today. We have four generations in our whānau. Tihei mauri ora to that!

As the eldest of my whānau, there are expectations and responsibilities. I am always mindful of my footsteps and my example to my siblings and those around me. Responsibility to the collective and paving the way for future generations is etched in my whakapapa.

In entering Victoria University through provisional entrance as a 16-year-old old from the North, I hit the books and joined Te Herenga Waka Kapa Haka Group and Ngāi Tauira Māori Students Association, and I lived my best life with my metes. I wish to acknowledge Tama Potaka and Cushla Tangaere-Manuel, my friends and colleagues of this House, alumni of Te Herenga Waka. I recognise it’s important for us to work across the Whare to meet the challenges for people and planet.

I’m blessed to be a single mother of three teenage daughters. Mokopuna raised in 10 years of Te Paparahi o Te Raki Waitangi Tribunal hearings, riding side-saddle with me across the North in events and hui. Like many in Aotearoa, our whānau is not without its challenges, but, as the Ngātiwai whakatauki shares, “Ahatia pukepuke te moana, ka whakawhitia e Ngātiwai”. [“Even though the ocean is rough, Ngātiwai will traverse it.”] To my tamāhine o Te Moana Nui a Kiwa, I love you all very much.

My professional life has set the scene for my entrance into this House, having a diverse background in Māori public health: tobacco control in Māori providers, the DHB, and the Ministry of Health, and in education as a director at Northtec.

It was Ngāti Hine that gave me my first big break, working for my iwi. I was appointed by my elders to the role of CEO of Ngāti Hine Forestry Trust. During my time, we implemented our Billion Trees projects: 3,200 hectares of second-rotation Pinus radiata, and seeing our young people on the land planting 410 hectares of mānuka—tēnā koe, matua Shane Jones. We grew our portfolio in horticulture too, to 32 hectares of Zespri Gold, and established industry-based training to get our people into orchard or packhouse, and, finally, in an industry first for Aotearoa, a research project in partnership with SCION to plan our indigenous forestry future, underpinned by mātauranga o Ngāti Hine.

I was then appointed as the first raukura mo te whare o Ngātiwai [chief executive officer of the Ngātiwai Board], the Ngātiwai Trust Board. My elders of Ngātiwai trusted me to set a new operational direction and lead our iwi into the future. As the raukura, I led our team with passion and energy. I gave my all. I love and appreciate the opportunity to serve our people across Te Ākau Roa o Ngātiwai. Tēnā koutou e tōku iwi o Ngāti Wai.

While speaking about my iwi, may I pause and reflect on Cyclone Gabrielle, remembering it was this time last year when the big one hit us. In Tai Tokerau, we had communities without water, internet, and electricity, and with roads blocked for days. We aren’t like Te Tairāwhiti and Te Matau-a-Māui, but a year on the people of Pipiwai in the North still don’t have fresh drinking water from Te Awa o Hikurangi. The infrastructure breakages are still “a work in progress”.

But what the cyclone and earlier COVID lockdowns did show was that hapū, iwi, and marae can mobilise. Drawing on supply chains established during COVID, we worked to get support to those most in need. As Ngātiwai, Ngāti Hine, and Ngā Hapū o Whangārei, we mobilised a regional roll-out, connecting through our whakapapa. With manaaki at the centre of our mahi, we went out to support the community. There are many learnings from the emergency response and, earlier, COVID19. Primarily, Māori need to be resourced decision-makers, and let us get on with the mahi.

I’ve spent many years of my career focused on training and development across sectors, succession on our marae and in our hapū to grow our team. This team includes tangata whaikaha [disabled community], our rainbow community, tangata moana [Pasifika community], immigrants, and refugees, because together, through mahi tahi, we can break down the inequalities that exist for so many communities in Aotearoa.

Diane Ruwhiu described the Māori economy as a “sleeping and now waking taniwha”. Now, much is made of this taniwha economy, yet for all the power and pizazz of the catchy name, the economic taniwha remains leashed by the colonial shackles. This is not to undermine the massive strides that our collective Māori and private business interests have achieved and the many breakthroughs to grow the Māori economy, but te pani me te rawa kore [bereavement and poverty] still exists. Systems change is required, with a focus on the wider determinants of health, social, and environmental wellbeing that takes into account our colonial history.

Decision makers need a new framework underpinned by Te Tiriti o Waitangi that ensures tangible economic gains and provides social, cultural, health, and taiao benefits to hapū and iwi. You see, Māori are natural greenies. We are kaitiaki. We are concerned for the health and wellbeing of our whenua, our moana, and our waterways because we are interconnected with the taiao.

May I speak to waimāori, waipara, and wai tūtae [fresh water, waste water, and sewage]. We have an issue with our piping, we have old infrastructure that was exposed during Cyclone Gabrielle. Wellington and Tāmaki-makau-rau, you’ve been put on notice. Rural New Zealand, you’ve been put on notice. This is not a new issue. Te mana o te wai is supremely important in our next steps, with urgent planning needed and investment for the infrastructure rural and urban New Zealand needs. What is our plan to address these important issues?

Te Rōpū Kākāriki, I salute you. You embedded Te Tiriti o Waitangi in your party’s constitution and move as a waka hourua: tangata Tiriti, tangata whenua. As the “Te Tiriti Party” in Parliament, I am proud to be a part of our team and I thank the 330,000 voters that brought into Parliament the largest ever Greens caucus in history.

I wish to mihi to the great Green Party co-leaders: first, Rod Donald and Jeanette Fitzsimons, then Russel Norman and the amazing Metiria Turei, and to our pou, James Shaw and Marama Davidson. E James he hautupua koe mō te taiao. Tēnā koe e te rangatira. [James, you are an esteemed luminary for the environment. Thank you, noble leader.]

I thank our party members and our whānau for supporting my campaign for the Te Tai Tokerau electorate. This was no easy task because the Te Tai Tokerau electorate stretches five hours just one way.

Can I acknowledge Kelvin Davis in his retirement but also for his work as a Minister and MP for Te Tai Tokerau. My whaea Mariameno Kapa-Kingi—first wahine to win the Te Tai Tokerau electorate—tēnā koe.

To Ministers of the Government and MPs who live and hail from the North, may we work hard together for Tai Tokerau and protect our whanaungatanga as we venture forth in this next term.

Hei whakakapi waka kōrero [To conclude my statements], our tupuna Kawiti is the first name on Te Tiriti, and he also signed He Whakaputanga. In his prophecy after the Battle of Te Ruapekapeka in 1846, he referred to the bite of the sandfly—the namu—“Waiho kia kakati te namu i te whārangi o te pukapuka, ko reira, ka tahuri atu ai.”—“Wait until the sandfly nips at the pages of the book, and at that time you must act.” Well, Aotearoa, it’s time to get out the insect repellent because we have a big namu trying to change the words of Te Tiriti o Waitangi. I, along with my colleagues, will stand and fight for our papa pounamu [greenstone floor] Te Tiriti o Waitangi me He Whakaputanga with you, in this House, and out in our communities and on our marae.

I began my kauwhau with Aperahama Taonui, and I will end my kauwhau with Aperahama Taonui. I dedicate this to Marama Davidson: “Ka whakarongo ake au, ki te tangi o te manu nei te pītongatonga. Tōnā tangi ‘Patotoi, patotoi, patotoi’.” [I listen to the cry of the pītongatonga bird. It cries “Patotoi, patotoi, patotoi”.]

E Marama, ka patotoi ōu ngutu ki te tohe mō Te Tiriti o Waitangi. Kāhore anō nei kia tatū te mana motuhake o Ngāpuhi, o Aotearoa whānui tonu—Marama, your lips will be parched fighting for Te Tiriti o Waitangi, as Ngāpuhi and Aotearoa are still waiting for this House to truly recognise te tino rangatiratanga o te Iwi Māori.

Nō reira tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou katoa.

[Applause, hongi, and harirū]

Waiata—“Te Whare e Tū Nei”

To make her maiden statement to Parliament, I call on Darleen Tana.

Maranga mai e te iwi e

Whāia te tika i roto i te ngākau

Kei hea ngā hua o te whenua?

Aue aue te mamae o taku wairua

E kore au e mātakitaki

Ko te takanga ki te hē

Kia tūpato, whakarongo mai

Maharatia ngā tikanga a ō tātou tūpuna

Ruia atu e, i aue

[Arise, the people

Pursue the truth within your heart

Where are the fruits of the land?

Oh my, the anguish of my soul

I will not watch

The fall into sin

Be careful, listen

Remember the ways of our ancestors

Cast them wide, alas]

Ko Pou-e-rua te maunga, ko Waitangi te awa, ko Ngāti Kawa me Te Tiriti o Waitangi ngā marae, ko Ngāti Kawa me Ngāti Rāhiri ngā hapū. Ko Ngāpuhi Nui Tonu, Ngāti Porou, Ngāti Awa, Ngāti Kahungunu ki Wairarapa, Ngā Rauru ngā iwi.

Kei te mihi ki ngā mana whenua o tēnei rohe taurikura. Mihi mai ki ō koutou nei mokopuna ka tae mai ki te tū i mua i a koutou. Ko Hōhepa Kōpiri te tangata. Ko Te Āti Awa te iwi. Tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā tātou koutou.

[Pou-e-rua is the mountain, Waitangi is the river, Ngāti Kawa and the Treaty of Waitangi are the marae, Ngāti Kawa and Ngāti Rāhiri are the hapū. Ngāpuhi Nui Tonu, Ngāti Porou, Ngāti Awa, Ngāti Kahungunu ki Wairarapa and Ngā Rauru are the iwi.

I acknowledge the authorities of the land in this thriving region. Welcome your grandchildren that have come here to stand before you. Hōhepa Kōpiri is the leader. Te Āti Awa is the iwi. Greetings and thanks to us all.]

Tēnā rā koe, Mr Speaker. Through you, I would like to thank the House for this time that is accorded to us for our kauhau tuatahi [maiden speeches].

At our swearing-in ceremony, we were told that we could pledge our oaths on the Bible or on a taonga of our choosing. I chose to do so on this taonga here. It is tohorā—whale bone—and it acknowledges my tūpuna here in Aotearoa from around the early 1800s.

Marupō, Pūmuka, rangatira nō Te Tai Tokerau [leaders from Northland] who signed He Whakaputanga me Te Tiriti o Waitangi [the Declaration of Independence and the Treaty of Waitangi] on our tūpuna whenua in Waitangi.

Here also my tūpuna Hōhepa Kōpiri of Te Āti Awa, who signed Te Tiriti here in Whanganui-a-Tara. There is kōrero in my whānau. Hōhepa Kōpiri was born Joseph Phillips. Yes, a Pākehā, who was whāngai-ed by Te Āti Awa and went on to sign Te Tiriti o Waitangi as a rangatira Māori.

Here also is Hannah King Hansen, my great, great, great, great-grandmother, whose grave is in Kororāreka. Upon her gravestone are inscribed the kupu: “The first European born in Aotearoa.”

With such whakapapa, it might come as no surprise of my position when it comes to upholding ngā kawenata tapu, ko Te Tiriti o Waitangi me He Whakaputanga [the sacred covenants, the Treaty of Waitangi and the Declaration of Independence]. Kei te tautoko mārika ahau i ngā kōrero kua kōrerohia e te whanaunga ko Hūhana Lyndon. [I wholeheartedly support the statements made by my relative Hūhana Lyndon.]

Every 28 October and 6 February, our hapū hosts the nation at Te Tii Waitangi marae at Toa Rangatira, where we commemorate the kōrero and the dreams and aspirations of our tūpuna rangatira.

In as much as my whakapapa might also suggest a predestined career in politics, my journey here has been quite unconventional. I did go to university after high school, which today sounds normal, but back in the 1980s, that was not a common thing for our people. I moved to Palmerston North, Massey University, got my bachelor’s degree in chemical technology, and went on to work as an environmental scientist for the next seven years.

In 1997, I was awarded one of two Rotary Foundation ambassadorial scholarships to study anywhere in the world. I did my Master’s in business administration at the Université libre de Bruxelles in Brussels, Belgium. I remained in Belgium for 17 years, working in corporate telecom, initially in IT, moving into strategic programme management, and then, later, head of talent management. My time at Belgacom was incredible and I was so far from home for so long. And at this stage, I would like to just acknowledge alle mijn vrienden, cher collega’s in Belgie nog. Een hartelijk, dikke merci. Ça fait si longtemps depuis qu’on s’est vu, vous me manquez tellement, nom d’une pipe!

I met my Danish husband, Christian Hoff-Nielsen, while studying, and together we have four beautiful children, Nikita, Joakim, Jules, and Louie. In 2014, we packed up our lives into six suitcases, left Brussels, and came to Waiheke Island. There, we set up Chris’ business, manufacturing, selling, and renting electric bikes. I swapped out my pencil skirts and high heels for a bike mechanic apron and steel cap boots.

In 2020, the Northland branch of the Green Party found me at Waitangi and asked me to stand as a candidate in that general election. I didn’t have a clue about politics at that time, but I did know how to ride a bike, so I did that. From Kawakawa, I crossed to Hokianga, up through Pānguru, Ahipara, Kaitāia, Te Rerenga Wairua, and then back down, eventually, through State Highway 10 to te Kerikeri, hoki atu back west to Ōmāpere, and this time heading south, down through Waipoua to Dargaville, to Ruawai, rolling through Maungatūroto—where they go particularly hundy on billboards, in my experience—to Mangawhai, and then back to up through to Waipū.

Now it was on that haerenga, āta haere ana, āta whakarongo ana [going slowly, listening carefully], that I realised that the whenua had a lot more, dare I say, important things to say than many of the people. The whenua was in severe drought, there was little or no topsoil, and it struggled to sustain life. It was the same in our awaawa and our moana. Sewage, sedimentation, overfishing—all contributing to the complete and utter degradation of the mauri of our taiao.

Of course, with my science background, I could speak to these things as the chemist or the geologist or the ecologist, but I knew the critical element was that deep, deep knowing that, actually, everything is connected. I stepped out of my husband’s business after that. I went instead to wānanga to tune into taiao through tirohanga ao Māori, learning pūkōrero, tuku iho, and maramataka, observing the tohu ki te rangi, ngā tohu mā runga, i te whenua, ngā tohu kei roto i te moana, and the tohu within myself. [I went instead to wānanga to tune into the environment through the Māori world view, learning traditional narratives and lunar calendars, observing the signs in the sky, the signs on the earth, the signs in the ocean, and the signs within myself.]

It was in that collective bringing together of the aeons of tūpuna wisdom and the rangatahi sass to create that new knowledge that I found hope. In spite of changing climate, in spite of collapsing ecosystems, and in spite of this insane idea that we just need more and more and more stuff, I found hope for our tamariki, I found hope for our mokopuna, and I found hope for our mokomokopuna.

It was on this day, 14 February in 2005, that we buried our dad, Te Wini Murphy Ngakoti Honetana. My mummy, Susan Rena Tana, is here today, as are my tēina, Chevy and Rena. E mihi kau ana ki koutou, e te whānau, me tō tātou tūngāne, ko Murphy. [I unreservedly acknowledge you, my family, and our brother, Murphy.]

I bring my dad into the kauwhau today because it was he who taught me that to be Māori means to be ordinary, which is to say that we are just part of the natural fabric of this land. We are no better than the manu, the rākau, the kōhatu me ngā tini a Tangaroa [the birds, the trees, the rocks, and the many descendants of Tangaroa], and we are certainly not any worse than anyone else, either.

My parents taught me never to whakahīhī oneself—you know, to lord yourself over another—never to whakaiti, or demean, another; if anything, to whakaiti, or to humble, oneself and to manaaki, or acknowledge, the majesty in the other. They instilled in me the knowledge that everyone and everything has mauri, has mana, and has tapu, and that it is indeed that sanctity that must inform the quality of our relationships.

My coming to this House is me heeding the karanga, me heeding the call, of Hinemoana rāua ko Papatūānuku [the ocean and the land]. I come here to bring their voices into this Whare, in whatever language each of us members of Parliament can understand. I get the need for economic growth and prosperity, but my inoi, my tono, my wero is simply that we do this in ways that regenerate rather than detract from the mauri and that we manaaki our hononga ki te taiao [nurture our relationship to the environment].

Ko te whakapapa tēnā. He tapu tēnā.

[That is genealogy. That is sacred.]

I also wish to thank those who supported me on my campaign journey to get here today, because, well, Hinemoana and Papatūānuku weren’t really eligible to vote. To all of our whānau Kākāriki, my never-ending love. Tangata whenua, tangata Tiriti, working together since well before 1820, if I go back to my nanny Hannah King Hansen’s day.

To Rolf and Inge—or, as my mummy calls you these days, my German mum and dad—thank you, thank you, thank you. To our children, I am sad that I’m not home much these days, but, you know, Dad and I gave life to you so that you could live, and Mummy is here to make sure that that life is worth living for you and for all of the children on our planet.

Lastly, a final short kōrero, if I may, about relationships. My decision to wear moko kauae came after a big kōrero in our family. As tino European Māori, you know, we had to cover off a lot of ground. It didn’t really help, either, when there were a lot of people out there talking smack out of ignorance. But anyway, after nearly two years, my Danish husband acquiesced, and so we took him back to Waitangi.

I recall sitting up when my whanaunga Kaitā had finished, tears bursting forth, with my mum and my auntie approaching to hongi me. Kua tae te wā—come the time—for my husband to approach me, he looked and he said “I don’t know if I can kiss that.”, to which I replied, “That’s OK, I’m sure I can find someone who will. But I give you first dibs.” Well, I’m pleased to say it’s been many a happy Valentine’s Day since then.

Every relationship—whānau mā—is a work in progress, and I look forward to working on those right here across this esteemed Whare. Nā reira, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā rā tātou katoa.

[Applause, hongi, and harirū]

Waiata—“Toro Mai tō Ringa”

To make her maiden speech to Parliament, I call on Celia Wade-Brown.

Thank you, Mr Speaker. Ko Ranginui e tū iho nei, ko Papatūānuku e takoto nei, tēnā kōrua. Te Whare e tū nei, tēnā koe. Taranaki Whānui, Ngāti Toa Rangatira me te iwi o te motu, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou katoa. He tangata Tiriti ahau.

[The sky above, the land below, I acknowledge you both. The House that stands here, I acknowledge you. Taranaki Whānui, Ngāti Toa Rangatira, and the people of the nation, my thanks and greetings to you all. I am a person of the Treaty.]

I’d like to acknowledge current and past leaders in this House, including Georgina Beyer from the Wairarapa.

When I made my affirmation, I brought in a pair of kahikatea seedlings. They symbolise many things. In particular, for me, they represent Jeanette Fitzsimons and Rod Donald, our first Green co-leaders in this Parliament, who exemplified by words and action our four principles: ecological wisdom, social justice, appropriate decision-making, and non-violence. Their legacy lives on, and I can assure this House that the Greens, including my sisters, will care for nature, including wetlands and forests, rivers and oceans, birds and bats, eels and frogs, while also working for climate solutions and acting on poverty, ending discrimination, and calling for non-violent answers.

Te Taiao underpins our existence. As Simon Upton, Parliamentary Commissioner for the Environment, said recently, “The economy is a subset of the environment.”

What whakapapa shaped my belief about the fundamental importance of nature? Well, on my mother Estelle’s side, it’s North West England for generation after generation, century after century. She was born in 1915 and was named Estelle for the stars that my grandfather saw when he fought on the Western Front.

My mother was a physiotherapist, painter, and a keen amateur botanist, and she taught me love for the natural world, despite us living next to the soot of the Paddington main line. That didn’t put me off trains, though, and I look forward to working with my colleagues Mike Butterick and Andy Foster and, of course, Kieran McAnulty on bringing trains more often, more on time, to the Wairarapa.

On my father Paul’s side, recent DNA testing confirmed family stories. My Sephardic Jewish forebears were expelled from Portugal in the 15th century, together with Portuguese Muslims. They became conversos in Northern Italy, and then they left the beautiful Italian lakes for the smog of London in the 19th century.

My father, Paul, left school at 14. He fought in Egypt and at Monte Cassino, and after the war, he stayed, for security, with one company until he retired. Immigration policies allowed—after my mother had died—him to join me in Wellington, and family reunification is so important, I will fight for people’s rights to bring their families here.

I grew up in that London smog, and I’m sure you’ll agree that the 1956 vintage is a good one, Mr Speaker. Clean air regulations have now vastly improved people’s health, so regulation is essential.

Our council flat was a good solution for medium-density urban housing, but it was very basic inside. My grandmother tended the basement coal boiler that provided hot water for all six floors.

What made our flat work for a young family? Well, it was having great public facilities nearby—extensive, free libraries, museums, and galleries; and parks and swimming pools—and excellent public transport meant we didn’t need a car. Public investment, not austerity, underpins social wellbeing.

I attended a State high school in Berkshire, where great teachers instilled a love of science and debate. After school, I went to West Africa, at 18, to work as a laboratory assistant in a girls’ school in Ghana. Moving to a country where I knew no one, where weekly letters—remember letters?—were the only communication with my family, was so exciting, and after that gap year, I completed my honours degree in philosophy in Nottingham.

Then I worked as a systems engineer at IBM, supporting the first computers into small engineering companies, and making some great friends at IBM, who are here tonight. I’ve also been a schoolteacher in a low-decile area.

My best life decision was to come to Aotearoa New Zealand, working for Databank in Wellington. I’d like to say that the digital economy, including games development and films, is a significant earner for this country, and not every export leaves on a ship or a plane.

I enjoyed the very first Island Bay Festival. An open day at Tapu Te Ranga Marae was led by the marvellous late Bruce Stewart, and that welcome—I didn’t even know I had to take my shoes off, I was so fresh to New Zealand. That welcome shaped my world view, and I’d like to also acknowledge Sam and June Jackson, Billie Tait-Jones, and many other Māori kaiako for opening my eyes to tikanga, land theft, tino rangatiratanga, and the beauty of weaving, singing, and oratory.

In Aotearoa New Zealand, we are justifiably proud of leading universal suffrage in 1893. We should be equally proud of He Whakaputanga and Te Tiriti. I was delighted to be with the whole Green caucus at Waitangi again this month and to experience inspiring Māori leadership, supported by so many tangata Tiriti.

There is much conflict in this world, huge inequality within countries as well as wars between countries, and the struggles of indigenous peoples against not only an elite class—the 1 percent—but the huge corporations that dominate our world. I stood in the No Blood for Oil marches, against the Mururoa nuclear testing, and for homosexual law reform. I will stand up for social, environmental, and economic justice. I don’t support Israel’s attack on Gaza, but I don’t support Hamas terrorism either, and I will continue to bear witness to the Holocaust. Deploring violence can be loud and clear, without being anti-Semitic nor Islamophobic.

It was an honour to become a councillor and then mayor of our smart, green capital. Our council led the return of nature to the city, from working with Andy Foster on creating the Outer Green Belt in the 1990s, supporting volunteer conservation groups, and ensuring Zealandia—the first fenced sanctuary—was financially sustainable.

I’m still part of the world-leading Predator Free Wellington, bringing back the dawn chorus to this city. Those of you who watch my activities closely know I will not swallow a dead rat; I will feed it to the eels. Predator Free 2050 is a worthy goal I will continue to champion and work on across the House. It deserves sufficient funding, adequate legislation, and, above all, continued active public support.

I led this city through the 2013 earthquakes, taking decisive action in increasing earthquake resilience funding and partnerships, and I would like to acknowledge Mayor Foster and Mayor Lester for your part in continuing some of those initiatives. We initiated the robust Tākina conference centre in the heart of the capital, but homeowners, renters, and business need certainty and support over both earthquake resilience and climate adaptation for buildings across the country, whether they’re high-rise city apartments, coastal baches, or red-stickered, single-storey shops.

Earthquakes and water: I could make my whole maiden speech about the three waters, and I’m sure every other local government graduate could do the same. We spent millions and millions of dollars. We built Moa Point. We funded Omāroro Reservoir—35 million litres of drinking water on the city side of the Wellington fault. We investigated cross-contamination, diverted closed landfill run-off, promoted conservation habits, and set targets for leak reduction. Now, I’m sure the 2013 and 2016 earthquakes inflicted significant underground damage, yet we didn’t do enough.

There must be a serious partnership including iwi, central government, and local government to clean up our urban and rural streams and coastlines, and to provide healthy drinking water without nitrates, E. coli, nor microplastic contamination. Let more of our awa run free, rather than always choosing expensive infrastructure that may not stand up to increasingly frequent extreme storm events. A long view is needed, but with urgent action, funding, and cross-party accords.

I salute those farmers who earn a living, feed us, and manage their environmental effects well. People are planting natives, recreating wetlands, managing stock to reduce fertiliser run-off, and controlling introduced predators, including along the Ruamāhanga River. Central Otago has got the world’s first zero - fossil fuel orchard. Martinborough vineyards create habitat to lure back the kārearea. Modern primary production has got some great champions—we saw some of them yesterday at the lamb event—but nutrient pollution, unswimmable rivers, a lack of shelter for farm animals from the blazing sun, and sedimentation of coastal waters, killing shellfish, all show there’s a long way to go. I ask rural communities to remember the 20 years of investment from Jeanette Fitzsimons’ establishment of the Sustainable Farming Fund.

I’m proud of starting our capital’s cycle network—and, yes, my bike is in the basement—including commitment to the Great Harbour Way. We’re seeing more and more people choosing to bike, one of the best ways to reduce congestion. I am horrified by this Government’s reckless blanket cancellation of so many walking and cycling projects, robbing today’s children of their independence and health.

We made Wellington this country’s first living wage council. As the Council of Trade Unions says, “Rising profits contribute more than half of the inflationary pressure, while labour costs are less than a third. We need to tackle energy, rents, and transport costs, not drive down wages.”—and I quote—“For over 70 years, economics has been fixated on GDP … as its primary measure of progress. That fixation has been used to justify extreme inequalities of income and wealth coupled with unprecedented destruction of the living world. For the C21 a far bigger goal is needed: meeting the human rights of every person within the means of our life-giving planet. And that goal is encapsulated in the concept of the Doughnut.”—Kate Raworth, 2017.Or, as Jeanette Fitzsimons put it, the politics of enough.

I’d like to say that I’ve always recognised the value and delight of cultural diversity, adding Asian, African, and European events to the city calendar. It was ridiculous to have to fight Waka Kotahi to have the Carmen Rupe traffic lights in Cuba Street or the Kate Sheppard lights nearby.

All achievements on council required teamwork. Ehara taku toa i te taku takitahi, engari taku toa he toa takitini. [My strength is not that of the individual, but is instead the strength of the collective.]

After choosing to stand down in 2016, my seven years in the wilderness included walking all 3,000 kilometres of Te Araroa and, later, cycling Tour Aotearoa. Each journey between Te Rerenga Wairua and Motupōhue taught me about the history, people, and geography of this country. They were quite a good political detox tour, too—so I highly recommend it, James! But now I’m wrenching myself away from our off-grid tiny house next to the Tararua Forest Park and returning to politics.

I’d like to acknowledge the parliamentary staff—who are missing their dinner break—whose roles are under threat. Without the mahi of our public servants, our words in this House would be empty echoes.

I’d like to thank my husband Alastair—happy Valentine’s day, dear—our sons, Ramsay and Jono, my dear friends and family of different colours, diverse genders, and various political persuasions for their love and understanding, their kind support, and their gracious criticism. Thank you to all the Green Party staff, volunteers, and voters for making this the biggest Green caucus ever.

Finally, to my MP colleagues, I do look forward to working with you on projects, private member’s bills, and select committees to make our world and our country a better place for the most vulnerable people, and for all the species with which we share our planet.

We won’t become a smart, green country by 2040 with three-year flip-flops cancelling out each other’s policies and Budgets. Look to the Waitangi Tribunal, the Energy Efficiency and Conservation Authority, and the zero carbon Act to understand how implementing shared values can have a lasting effect.

Manaaki whenua, manaaki tangata, haere whakamua!

[Care for the land, care for people, and advance!]

Let me close with the words of Kīngi Tūheitia: “Be who we are, live our values, speak our reo, care for our mokopuna, our awa, our maunga.” Tēnā koutou katoa.

Waiata—“E tu Kahikatea”

Sitting suspended from 6.21 p.m. to 7.30 p.m.