Tokoni ki Tonga
Welcome back to work. The summer has been so kind to us with long, hot, delicious days of family time. JANZ even managed to squeeze in a Wellington club welcome for our newest judges before the big ‘O’ nipped at our heels, and Charles Blackie hung up his robes for the last time. The Chinese New Year of the Tiger has been rung in with dragon dances and drums. The year is ripe with the promise of new and better things to come for our members.
That joy and sense of promise was blunted by the Tonga tsunami. A ghastly event for our Tongan-heritage judges and lawyers, especially as they found communication with family so difficult. We at JANZ hold a very special place in our hearts and constitution for Pacific judges, and so I reached out to their Chief Justice with our aroha and awhina. You can read his reply here. We have also encouraged our international and regional associations to support their justice sector.
These early days of rapid disaster relief will drift into the longer and arduous task of rebuilding homes and communities and infrastructure. Fortunately, while the sea came up to the steps of the Supreme Court and chambers in Nuku’alofa, the court buildings were not flooded and all the courts are open and endeavouring remote participation. Their court staff, while unharmed, have not done so well and face some difficult times ahead repairing sea damage to homes, buildings, churches, roads, wharves, and seawalls. After work they’re also helping to clean the inch of volcanic grit that fell. JANZ plans to work with the Pacific Lawyers Association to provide long-term support to the judges, lawyers, and law students of Tonga. Details will follow.
Around 2008 I spent 18 months in Tonga assisting with their devolution from a monarchy to a democracy. I lived about as far away as I could get from the palace, parliament, churches, and city centre. My home was behind the Ha'atafu Beach Resort. Run by local surfing gurus, and family operated, Ha'atafu Beach Resort has served as a hub for surfers since 1979. There was just the surf resort and my home on that very long, remote arc of white sand, palm-fringed beach. It provided a safe haven to write about the delicate matters of law that abound such a process.
That’s a photo, above, of my boys heading off to the beach. Now look at the photos below, there is nothing left of that home and plantation.
Whilst living in Ha'atafu, earthquakes frequently rocked my bed from one side of the room to the other. After the devastating 2009 earthquake in Samoa, the threat of tsunami saw me and Pita, the caretaker, roped together high up in an old mango tree at the back of the house. There was no hill for us to run to for safety. We were just metres above the high-water mark and to drive away would see us quickly fall below sea level. There was little time. Katherine, watching on her laptop from our farm in Kauri, updated me on my sat-phone about the waves' progress and called the estimated time until the tsunami reached us. We said our goodbyes and I climbed the tree. Pita had built a small platform and placed ropes around the massive trunk so we could climb up. He had stored some food and drink in an old chilly bin. An extract from my book draft picks up the story:
“We the people … we the church … we the royal chosen few … the draft papers of a new democracy bundled together grabbed from a desk and stuffed in a kete without pomp or circumstance. These words nailed high in our old mango tree, a forbidden but ripe fruit fall for others to pick up.
Pita pointed out to where the dawn wind was coming, and he told of the storms that visit and their names and the currents and the way the whales go, and seabirds fly. And he gently spoke about the thoughts in the heart of a man to be free. And as he spoke, we kept watch in that lonely place, roped together.
In one tight screaming circle the bats suddenly erupted from the trees and took flight, then whirlpools in the bay sucked out the reef, and in slow motion the seawater rose up, and up, and up again, into a long, thick, green wall, and as we sang hopeful hymns, the waves surged to where we two abided under those lofty words.
Waves gone, we sat in the unbelievable stillness unwilling to leave. And we munched on water biscuits and drank beer and listened to the church bells ring and believed in a new day ahead.”
Nowhere near the power of last week's tsunami, the Samoan swell left behind debris but not devastation. Our hearts go out to all those who’ve been affected by the recent volcanic eruption and tsunami in Tonga. If you are of a mind to donate, the Tongan Consulate in Auckland has been authorised by the Tongan Government to open a recovery fund here in New Zealand. The details are as follows:
Account Name: Hunga Recovery Fund
Account Number: 02-0208-0101185
Do keep Tonga in your thoughts and prayers
Kei te mihi hoki atu ki ngā mate o ngā motu, o ngā iwi o ngā marae, nga aitua tapu o tatou kua eke atu ki te pō roa, te pō tangotango. Moe mai, okioki mai ra.
Mālō ‘aupito,
Gerard.
