
Origin of forgotten carvings uncovered
Ministry of Social Development work broker Aroha Sell (Te Āti Haunui-a-Pāpārangi) said she was just starting to re-engage with her culture when she became determined to track down the two taonga whakairo (carvings).
Originally installed in 1998, the wood carvings were put into storage in about 2010 due to renovations, and faded from workplace memory.
"I instantly felt a responsibility to uphold the mana of our He Taonga Whakairo and ensure that tikanga was followed," she said.
"I was in my early beginnings in reconnecting back to my own Māoritanga and honestly had no idea where to start, but the fire in my belly had started."
Ms Sell, alongside her co-workers Chloe Beckett and Hannah Cornish, formed Te Manatū Whakahiato Ora O Māruawai Rōpu (the MSD Gore Group) and set a goal to uncover the whakapapa of the artworks.
During the 18-month journey to uncover the carvings' origins, Ms Sell asked around the organisation, located old copies of WINZ World magazine and looked through The Ensign archives.
Despite this, the artist remained unknown, until she was connected with the Hokonui Rūnanga, and someone there identified the carver as Moana McRoberts.
Mr McRoberts, now based in the North Island, was commissioned to create the carvings while working at Mataura Marae as part of the Training Opportunities Programme training scheme.
He was "very humbled" Ms Sell had taken the time to locate him and find out the story behind the artworks.
He recalled the carvings represented the seasons, and with that in mind, the taonga was unveiled to coincide with Matariki celebrations.
The second unveiling was held early yesterday on a frosty Gore morning, led with a karakia from rūnanga cultural adviser Matu Coleman-Clarke, and Ms Sell gave a speech.
Capability developer Ann Meffan also spoke, as she was at the original 1998 unveiling as was client service delivery manager Judith McLellan.
Ms McLellan organised the original commissioning of the works, as part the Te Punga bicultural push and funding initiative of the 1990s.
Incorporating te ao Māori (the Māori world-view) into the ministry was fairly new back then and the carvings were probably the first of their kind in the South Island.
"It was sort of a lead-in for us," she said.
Ms Sell became emotional when describing the recent reconnection with her culture coinciding with the mission of understanding the taonga.
"I felt like these carvings had come to me for a reason."
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles

RNZ News
04-08-2025
- RNZ News
Neurodiverse man overwhelmed by Jobseeker admin comes off weekly support
Photo: RNZ A young neurodiverse man who was on the Jobseeker benefit says the sheer number of forms to fill, job websites to join and roles to apply for each week was so overwhelming he decided to come off the weekly support. Autism NZ warns that is extremely concerning and common but the Ministry of Social Development said its staff are there to help and support is on offer. The man - who wishes to remain anonymous - has dyslexia and dyspraxia, making administrative tasks taxing and sometimes overwhelming. To show how much paperwork he was required to do, he measured the file holding documents related to being on the Jobseeker benefit. "It is a full centimetre thick, the file that I have. Most of it is from when I was applying, there's a few brochures, my last payslip, a bunch of stuff from Inland Revenue, the MSD job hunter booklet, multiple bank statements, my dad's death certificate." He is in his 20s and was working for his dad, a plasterer, who sadly passed away in March. A few months later, he applied for the Jobseeker benefit but within weeks started to find the admin overwhelming. He needed to update his CV and provide his case manager with regular updates of his job searches, which included taking screenshots and keeping a list of companies, dates and responses - but he does not own a smartphone. "It is a hindrance to me when it comes to dealing with too much paperwork, admin, computers. I struggle with that," he said. "You have to reset one password and then you start getting more passwords wrong because you're frustrated and gets you on a negative loop until it just wears away at your sanity a bit. I can't take that." He told his case manager at Work and Income that the paperwork was too much and he wanted to come off the benefit - he was living at home and had started a part-time job but was hoping to complete a training course while on the benefit with the aim of getting full-time work. He said he believed his ability to cope with admin was the problem, not Work and Income to whom he did not disclose his disability because he felt a bit embarrassed and ashamed. Autism NZ chief executive Dane Dougan said he regularly hears from people who have given up on the benefit process. "It's really concerning. We are hearing a lot, we don't capture those numbers ... but based on the number of people coming to us in these situations it certainly seems quite common." Dougan said most people who came off the benefit by choice had family support - but not all.. "The outcomes ... for our neurodivergent and autistic people who lose access to the benefit and can't pay their bills, they could end up homeless or they could end up incarcerated and all those things are potentially a flow on effect for making it very difficult admin wise for our community to get a benefit so it's extremely concerning." An advocate who helps people navigate the benefit system, Allison Tinsdale, said the number of forms to fill is actually scary for some people. "It's mainly that I see people's reactions ... we have three one-page forms and I don't even like giving that to a client straight off because we've got too many people with writing issues to say fill out a form first, I say can we have a chat first then we'll see if we need to fill out anything." Ministry of Social Development's group general manager client service delivery, Graham Allpress, said people who receive a work-tested benefit may have full or part-time work obligations, or work preparation obligations, depending on their situation. "Obligations will vary depending on the main benefit type and people's individual circumstances, including the number and ages of dependent children, and a person's medically assessed capacity to participate in employment," he said. "Based on discussions with the client, case managers will identify the most appropriate activities that will enable the person to move towards or into employment at the earliest opportunity." Allpress said these activities could include "engaging with available support to create a CV, attending driver license training or an industry specific training programme or applying for suitable jobs and keeping a record of who has been approached". He said MSD staff consider each person's individual circumstances before referring them to a job or an activity. A MSD regional commissioner, Lynda Smardon, said they understand applying for a benefit and meeting the obligations can be challenging for some people. Helping people apply for a benefit and meet their obligations, is a core part of what our case managers do every day." She said when they know a person is neurodiverse they can offer support. "He did not tell us about any disability or health condition which made it difficult for him to search for work or meet any of the activities that may need to be met as part of receiving a benefit." Smardon said the man's case manager followed up to check on his decision to opt out of the benefit and offer support - but the man said he just had a few missed calls. "MSD staff consider each person's individual circumstances before referring them to a job or an activity and have support available if people are having difficulty meeting their obligations," Smardon said. "This includes support with updating a CV, referral to a Work Broker to help with job applications, and referrals to other service providers." She said there are also regional health and disability teams, whose role is to support MSD's frontline staff to ensure that disabled whanau or people with health conditions get the right support. Dougan said there is still stigma attached to neurodiversity in the workplace which could put people off from telling MSD they have a disability. "Stigma is absolutely a problem because it's still quite widely misunderstood, particularly in the employment space. A lot of autistic people we hear from would be reluctant to disclose that they are autistic to work and Income staff and then that makes it difficult to provide extra support." He said some of it came down to training and ensuring Work and Income staff were equipped to recognise when a person needed help. The young man who came off the benefit said all he really needed was direct communication, face to face or over the phone. "It would be more personal interactions I think it would have been better if I'd been able to get all of that information I needed from an actual person." Sign up for Ngā Pitopito Kōrero , a daily newsletter curated by our editors and delivered straight to your inbox every weekday.


Scoop
29-07-2025
- Scoop
Wāhine Māori Gather In Ōtautahi To Reclaim, Protect Sacred Taonga Of Karanga
Article – RNZ Whine were given a deeper understanding of their place within te ao Mori, a wnanga leader says. Surrounded by the strength of their tūpuna, wāhine from across the motu gathered at Rehua Marae in Ōtautahi for Tīhei Waitaha – a wānanga dedicated to exploring and protecting the sacred taonga of karanga. Facilitated by Heeni Te Whakaako Kereru (Liz) and led by the rōpū Te Kōkōwai Māreikura o Mātangireia, the wānanga honoured five respected māreikura who have upheld the mauri of mahau across generations: Rānui Ngārimu, Alamein Connell, Tihi Puanaki, Te Herehere Tukaki and Roberta Arahanga. At the heart of the kaupapa was the revitalisation of karanga, not just as an art form, but as a living tikanga. Kereru, known in the rohe as Whaea Liz or Aunty Liz, said the day was about more than teaching, it was about activation. 'Activating that punaroimata, activating all those kare-ā-roto that are within us as wāhine, about who we are – as kaikaranga, as mothers, as grandmothers.' Through the mātauranga of ngā māreikura, Kereru said wāhine were given a deeper understanding of their place within te ao Māori. 'It's opened the door to a whole different world, a new world for some of our māreikura e wāhine who have come today – and given a better understanding of who they are and how important we are within our own culture.' Kereru said it was important for wāhine to walk in the world with their heads held high, and with the strength of knowledge passed down to them from those that had gone before. 'Because for too long we've been dictated to. We've tried to live a culture that is not ours. And so now we're just reclaiming that.' Central to the kaupapa was tikanga. While more people are learning te reo Māori, Kereru said language alone was not enough. 'You can go and learn te reo Māori, and many are. But what's often lost is ngā tikanga because with te reo, comes ōna tikanga. There's always a tikanga to everything we do. 'You can't walk in te ao Māori unless you carry that tikanga behind you.' The wānanga also challenged the idea that karanga belongs only on the marae. 'Karanga is a form of communication. It doesn't only belong to the pōhiri process,' Kereru said. 'We're teaching our next generation that it can be used anywhere, it's not something that should be locked away.' Laying foundations for the future Kereru, a grandmother of 10, eight of whom are fluent in te reo, said this kaupapa was part of a larger, intergenerational movement. 'We're placeholders,' she said. 'My job as a māreikura is to make sure our mokopuna are safe. And confident in who they are as Māori.' Referencing a whakataukī from her iwi, Mō tātou, ā, mō kā uri ā muri ake nei, for us and our children after us, she said there was strength in unity and knowing where you come from. 'We'll keep moving forward, no matter how many barriers are put in front of us. Because the more barriers we face, the stronger we become. 'We're united as a people… and we can only build strength from that.' 'Everybody is worthy' Danna Robson, one of the wānanga organisers, said the kaupapa was about recognising that every wāhine holds mana – regardless of background. 'Some people say the word māreikura should only be for a select few,' she said. 'But everybody is worthy.' With over 50 wāhine in attendance, the gathering made space for those who hadn't grown up in kōhanga reo or kura kaupapa. 'We invited in those that haven't been given the tools since birth,' she said. 'I think now it seems to be that every wāhine is coming into her own power and realising that she can be the inspiration for her own tamariki and mokopuna.' She hoped wāhine left feeling empowered in knowing that they had the right to karanga as wāhine Māori. 'They actually had the right before they were born to do this and to take on this kaupapa.' She also said in a time when Māori rights, reo and tikanga were under attack, spaces like this were vital. 'We're on a bit of a threshold. But [the younger] generation, the kōhanga reo generation, are reclaiming what once was. Walking successfully in both worlds, holding their mana motuhake, tino rangatiratanga.' She said the emergence of rangatahi leaders like Te Pāti Māori MP Hana-Rawhiti Maipi-Clarke showed the next generation was already transforming the landscape. 'I think the next generation is going to surpass any moemoeā we could ever think of.' Surrounded by tūpuna Rehua Marae was chosen not only for its history, but for its inclusively. As a pan-tribal marae with deep whakapapa in trade training and whānau ties across the motu, it holds special meaning for the māreikura involved. 'This is the mahau where those five wāhine have stood together before,' Robson said. 'When they came out of the whare, hotuhotu ana te ngākau, waiwai ana te whatu. There were tears, because we knew it might not happen again.' Kereru said everyone who entered Te Whatu Manawa Maoritanga o Rehua had whakapapa to one of the pou in the whare. 'It just goes back to that whakatauki: Aroha ki te tangata, ahakoa ko wai, ahakoa nō hea – love people, no matter who they are or where they are from. 'It needed to be here for that reason because it's about safety. That's about giving every one of those women that come today a voice.' And in that space of safety and aroha, the strength of their tūpuna was felt. 'They were everywhere,' she said. 'It's time. They've been waiting for a long time.' Kereru said the impact of the day was written on the faces of those who came. 'Some weren't sure if they were even ready to come. But by the end of the day, you could see it, that realisation of 'I am worthy of this. This is for me'. 'They've been empowered. And not just as reo karanga, as wāhine Māori.' With demand already growing, the organisers said they would take a moment to rest before turning to what came next. 'We haven't even debriefed yet, but people are already asking about the next one,' Robson said. 'That tells us everything.'


Otago Daily Times
18-07-2025
- Otago Daily Times
The wisdom of the season
Like many in Ōtepoti Dunedin, I'm finally coming up for air after a whirlwind season celebrating Matariki and the Māori New Year. Or more truthfully, I'm curled up on the couch in front of the fire, wondering how I managed to get to so many kaupapa in the middle of winter. Each event I attended was beautiful, moving, heartfelt, and absolutely worthwhile. Heoi anō, if I'm honest, both my wairua and te taiao were gently whispering ''Rest. Stay in. Light the fire. Walk the dog.'' At one point, feeling māuiui as, I gave in and started antibiotics. I found myself in bed questioning my life choices. Me haere tonu au ki tēnei kaupapa? Do I really need to go? But each time I showed up, I realised: I wasn't alone. Most of us were in the same waka. Coughing, sneezing, handing out ibuprofen, and still turning up, carrying aroha with us. It felt like winter at daycare: tissues everywhere, everyone a bit run down, no-one too bothered. And yet, that's part of the beauty of this time of year. We gather. We remember. We honour our mātauranga, our ancestors, our whakapapa, and our stars. Somewhere between my third event in two days and my fifth cup of kawakawa tea, I had to laugh at myself. I'd come charging into the season like it was a checklist, forgetting that Matariki isn't just something we attend. It's something we feel. A time to pause, to reflect, to let go, and to reset. I found myself most drawn to the quieter moments. Standing outside at dawn with cold hands and warm breath, gazing at the stars. Lighting candles for those we've lost. Making soup from what's left in the cupboard. Reading a book instead of answering emails. These simple acts of stillness — of aroha and reflection — are just as much a part of the season as any public celebration. As wāhine Māori, we often carry so much. The unseen work, the logistics, the manaaki. We hold space for others, even when we're running on empty. But this season reminded me (again) that rest isn't being lazy — it's wisdom! Slowing down isn't giving up. It's an act of resistance to burnout. It's also a way of aligning ourselves with te taiao. Winter, after all, is the season of hibernation. We're not meant to bloom all year round. So to those who went hard this Matariki — ka pai! You showed up, gave your energy, and helped hold space for others. And to those who spent most of it curled up at home, honouring your own rhythm — ka pai hoki! That's the real magic of this season: there's space for all of us, in whatever way we're able to mark it. As Matariki and Puaka rise once again and the days slowly begin to stretch, I'm carrying a few quiet lessons into the new year. A renewed appreciation for stillness, deep gratitude for those who fill our spaces with aroha, and a gentle commitment to a slower, more mindful rhythm of life. Manawatia a Matariki me Puaka. May this new year bring you warmth, clarity, and just enough couch time to balance the kaupapa.