From a Palauea Native

Giving voice to the voiceless By Kaniela Kanahele & Lucienne de Naie

Note: “Palau‘ea” is the name of an ancient land division in South Maui. Palau‘ea begins at the sea and includes the popular and culturally significant Polo and Palau‘ea beach parks, the neglected cultural and native plant preserve at One Palau‘ea Bay, the Wailea Emerald golf course, around 200 acres (southern portion) of the proposed 670-acre Wailea 670/Honua‘ula golf course and luxury home development and undeveloped ranch lands ascending to the Ulupalakua area and mauka. “Mo‘i” is the Hawaiian word for king, monarch or ruler.

I am ka wiliwili nui, mo‘i of the dryland forest. I am a true Hawaiian tree. My ancestors were already rooted here, long before the arrival of man. I am a native of the lands of Palau‘ea. I began life nearly a century ago, as a small red seed, protected by this lava flow. As I grew, I survived drought. I survived wildfires. I survived grazing cattle, goats and deer. I survived military bombing during WWII. And now, I am surviving the attack of a foreign insect. I have survived because I am nourished by this land. I have survived because the waters of Kane lie beneath the earth to nourish me. I have survived because those who dwelt with me on this land respected me and my kind for our special gifts and mana. They valued our light and buoyant wood. They used it to make surfboards for ancient chiefs. They formed it into fishing floats and outriggers for canoes. Sadly, although we still exist as an island, a la‘u ‘ohana on these undisturbed lands, we, ka wiliwili nui, are mostly taken for granted. We are ignored or forgotten by those who dwell on the land today. Thirty years ago, new people came to the land of Palau‘ea. They saw no need for me to survive. They cared not about my ancient genealogy. My ties to the ‘aina and kanaka maoli. They paid money for reports that described me and the other native plants of Palau‘ea as a “scrub forest.” They had other plans for the special lava flow where I lived. It would become golf course lawns, surrounded by luxurious houses. They called the land “Makena 700.” Twenty years ago, government bodies gave the people who came to build in Palau‘ea permission to remove me and my many relatives from the land. No one came to see the land where we had lived for centuries. We were unseen, and therefore our disappearance would trouble no one. The people who came to build made many promises. But shortly after getting permission to bulldoze, they sold the land of Palau‘ea to others. The new people made more promises. They called the land “Wailea Ranch.” They had permission to destroy my home, but had money problems. They sold the lands of Palau‘ea ten years ago to avoid bankruptcy. The newest group of investors with dreams for my homeland also made big promises. They called the land “Wailea 670.” The investors paid for a new report. It said native trees like myself were “marginal.” Some people did not believe this report. They came to my Palau‘ea home to see the land for themselves. They came to walk the land, to listen and understand more about Palau‘ea and the many plants, animals and spirits who lived there. They found many trees like me, and other rare native plants, hidden among the lava lands. They asked that plans be changed for these lands. They asked that these lands, my home of Palau‘ea, be set aside to live undisturbed for centuries to come. At first, their requests were ignored. Those who planned to bulldoze and build on the lands I call home told the government that we native plants could survive in the gulches. Those who listened to the land explained that I and other natives needed to live on the land where we were rooted. Then the new investors told the government that wiliwili trees like me were being killed off by the invading wasp. They spoke of gathering my seeds to plant elsewhere. They changed the name of their project to “Honua‘ula.” Those who listened to the land brought pictures of me and other wiiwili, showing we were alive and fighting off the wasps. The investors offered to set aside six acres of our home while destroying the rest. Those who listened to the land, shared their pictures with others who cared. Hundreds came to speak to the government. They brought more pictures. They spoke for the ancient Hawaiian sites that shared my Palau‘ea home. The investors offered to set aside 18 acres of our home, but the land I lived on was not among those to be protected. The people who listened to the land refused to give up. Their voices were strong and growing. Some asked that 200 acres be protected in the land of Palau‘ea. The government made a condition that 130 acres of land could be considered. The investors were asked to make a plan. Their plan has only 22 acres set aside for my survival. The people who listen to the land knew that this would not do. They returned to the government to speak for the land. They said that the mo‘i of the dryland forest must be respected and left in place. What will happen now? The 130 acres that could be set aside would include the lava land where I live, but it does not include lands where many of my younger kinfolk now dwell in shining groves. All the land of Palau‘ea must be set aside so that the legacy of the land’s first inhabitants can continue in perpetuity. We remain rooted here. You are our voice. Please speak for the lands of Palau‘ea. I am a wiliwili tree. I am a native of Palau‘ea. Hundreds of my younger brothers and sisters are also natives of this land. We all deserve to continue life in our homeland. Long live the land of Palau‘ea. Long live the native plants and people of this land. Aloha ‘aina.

Tags: ka wiliwili nui, Mo'i, Palau‘ea, poems