There is a specific kōrero from T.W. Ratana that has been weighing heavy on my heart lately. It’s a prophecy that sounds simple on the surface, but when you look closer, it’s a forensic warning about the survival of our iwi. Ratana warned his people against bartering away their future for things that don’t last. He spoke of a time when the land—our very life force—would be traded for "flour, sugar, potatoes," or in other versions, "flour, sugar, tea, and tobacco".

This wasn't just about what was in the pantry; it was about the "Leaky Bucket" economy we’ve been trapped in for too long. Ratana saw a future where we would give up our means of production (the land) for cheap, consumable goods that leave us empty in the end. It’s a warning about trading our long-term sovereignty for short-term "benefits" that ultimately keep us dependent.

In the misty, rugged heart of the Urewera, there is a story of hope and heartache that every one of us should hold close. It’s the story of Rua Kēnana Hepetipa and the community he built at Maungapōhatu. Following the guidance of the Spirit and the prophecies of Te Kooti, Rua led his people—the Iharaira—away from the distractions of the world to build a "City of God" right on the slopes of the sacred mountain.

For Rua, this wasn’t just about religion; it was about protecting the mana of his people⁴. He saw how the system was designed to keep Māori as "static subjects"—labourers on their own land—and he decided to flip the script. He envisioned a place where faith and work were one, where the community looked after its own, and where the future was decided by the people, not a distant bureaucracy.