Breaking the Fast
Lofa Totua
Each week during lockdown, Samoan oldies are invited to share their slam poetry on the topic via Radio Samoa. My grandparents are in my bubble, and they listen intently. The show is in the afternoon and around the same time I’ve dragged myself out of bed, for breakfast. While Mama sips on her ipu ki, Papa is fidgety. He stands up, takes eager strides to the kitchen window, scratches his head and moves behind to where my Nana sits, hovering. He makes a judgmental comment on one and gifts a nod of approval to another, a professional radio listener.
If he’s not listening to the radio, he’s watching the news or reading the paper. Most days I’ll find Mike Hosking’s face and column scribbled on. Interestingly, during these slam poetry sessions, if it’s not ‘good enough’, he blames it on the Sāmoan old person’s lack of education. In my life, he represents an age group of people both stuck in their old ways and hungry to learn.
In Aotearoa’s worst case scenario, Papa’s age bracket would have made up 89% of the death cases. According to the Potential Worse Case Health Impacts from the COVID-19 Pandemic Report, loved ones aged 60 and up would have been amongst the most disproportionately affected. The numbers in the report exceeded the deaths from WW1—18,000. There was no definite data that shaped the impacts on Māori and Pasifika elderly in the report. However, modelling predictions shared in an RNZ article titled “Covid-19 deadlier for Māori, Pasifika”, estimated that “the death rate for people in their 60s and 70s was 7.9 percent for Māori and 5.5 percent for Pasifika, compared to an overall rate of 2.8 percent. For those 80 and older, it was 13.9 percent for Māori—one in seven people—and 11.8 percent for Pasifika—one in nine people—compared to 6.8 percent overall.”
It is no secret that at our worst and at our best, the most vulnerable will be the incapacitated majority in every category. Economist Shamubeel Eaqub shared his concerns in an RNZ article, where existing problems outside of COVID-19 and a recession already make winter hard for families. “The worst of it will happen through winter... Unfortunately, it's also going to mean that it happens in those minority communities—Pacific people, Māori, recent migrants, people with disabilities. They're the ones who are going to struggle the most.” Figure.NZ organises data to help measure and understand New Zealand’s workforce. The data is from the 2018 Census; combined with Statistics NZ, it proves Māori and Pasifika have higher proportions of people working jobs with higher levels of physical contact, and are therefore more exposed to the virus. These jobs continue to be paid the bare minimum, despite their quick shift from being ‘low-skill’ roles to ‘essential’.
In this time, initiatives have stepped up to serve. Wellington students have formed a Volunteer Army, aiming to support as many people in isolation and removing prejudices which have prevented parts of the community from reaching out. From the week Aotearoa entered Level 4, food banks such as The Village Trust, founded by Pasifika hero Sir Michael Jones, have formed partnerships from Foodstuffs to Blues players, catering to families in need. Food banks all over have felt the increased demand, with many families losing their main source of income due to COVID-19. Depression.org has recognised that impacts of COVID-19 on Pasifika people are not just physical and has dedicated information and tools tailored to the realistic complexities within Pasifika homes as well as a range of other groups. Suggestions such as: live streaming a family lotu/prayer once a week and learning more about your cultural roots, villages, and family history have been listed; whilst acknowledging that the lockdown rules go against the way Pasifika connect culturally. Le Va has created the tag #catchyourself, offering necessary support with answering the tough question: How do we maintain respectful relationships in our bubble?
It is no secret that low paid work, unemployment, access to education, poverty, housing insecurity, suicide, mental health, and violence in our Māori and Pasifika homes are all connected. This balance ultimately connects us to the land and how we act as stewards. Or, how the people with power and money don’t act as stewards. Oh what? You didn’t know that secret? Uh, never mind... I forget what hasn’t been voiced before in mainstream media and in academic textbooks, written from the sole perspective of the white authors. Are our voices still not loud enough? Are Indigenous ways of life still not worthy? Are our successes and breakthroughs only important if we are labelled New Zealander or Kiwi? It took a pandemic for our colonial governing structure to give people what they deserve. Facts and figures prove what life was like for Māori and Pasifika before COVID-19 arrived. However, the aftermath of COVID-19 and our month lockdown, may entrench these existing inequalities. We’re going to do something about it.
Let’s talk about $takes real quick. COVID-19 has thrown hundreds of students into a scary headspace, especially in regards to finance. The ‘broke college student’ takes on a new meaning when the immediate future of your family relies on your success, a reality for many Pasifika and Māori in tertiary education. Prayers up for the students in a household where they have to cover for essential working parents, are essential workers themselves, or have to settle yelling kids, while continuing study in a time like this. What keeps Pasifika and Māori in tertiary institutions is captured by Wellington City Councillor and Indigenous trailblazer, Tamatha Paul: “Education is a transformational tool and has the potential to shift the family cycles of poverty and inequality.” It gives us the understanding to put names to things we have seen our whole lives and the ability to “... imagine a new reality, challenge unfairness, to use the tools that society gives us to participate, stand up and be heard.”
I’m still here. I’m still hungry to learn. But I’m tired too.
Our generation shares this exhaustion, but we also share the willpower—there is work to be done. We are no longer tolerating lethal statistics, the risks our Pasifika and Māori communities face. We are not accepting degrading headlines and stories with “details” on how rough, tough, and brown the subjects are. We are exhausted from seeing loved ones being the working poor, never graduating to the paradise that was promised. We are doing something about being last place in our country’s collective wellbeing. Our struggles may be different, with varying degrees of agency, but this lockdown has shown how our generation can respond with the same mana as our parents and elders
—the backbone of New Zealand’s workforce. In the words of Indigneous climate leaders 350 Pacific, we are mātagi mālohi, strong winds that will bring about change. The change that we need to break our fast.