tangi, nga marena; i te wharekai o taua whare nei nga kanikani, nga mahi hei mahi moni, nga kainga o tena mea te kai. Ko to matou whare kura he tino whare i era ra. I reira noki nga mahi mo te rapu i te matauranga. I te wa i a au e kura ana i konei, e ono tekau nui atu ranei nga tamariki o te kura nei. E rua o matou tima pahiketepaoro, whutupaoro, nga ahua mea whakataetae katoa. Mo te himene, mo te waiata, aue te mamae i te tini o nga whakaaro mau aroha mai! Ka kaumatua haere au, ka huri nga mahi ahuwhenua a nga tangata ki te moana, ki te hi ika hei hoko ki nga Pakeha mai i Akarana, ki te ngahere ki te mahi hokeke hei hoko ki nga tangata Hainamana, na, tenei te ahua o taku iwi o taku kainga. Ka haere au ki te Kareti i Kaikohe, na, i nga wa e hoki ai au ki te kainga, kua timata ke te nuku, ara te heke, ki nga taone—ki Whangarei, ki Akarana, a, tu ana nga whare me nga whenua he kotakota, bore kau he aha o roto. A, tae noa e whitu ano whare e toe ana i Te Wainui; i mua, tekau ma whitu nga whare. E toru kei Mahinepua; i mua, tekau ma tahi. I Te Ngaere e wha e toe ana; i mua, tekau ma wha. Hoi ano nga whare e ora ana. I taku moenga tane, ka hoki atu ano ahau ki taku kainga. Puta mai au i waho o Ngatiruamahoe he wahine. Ka haere mai au me taku tane, mahue atu ki muri aku matua, oku hoa me aku whakaaro. Iaianei, titiro atu ahau i taku kainga nei i Poneke, kua whakamutungia te mahi a te whare kura, kua haere nga mahita, mahue ana he aha? Iaianei kua tae atu ki enei kainga e toru te hiko. Ki aku whakaaro, tureiti te haere mai o tenei mea. Ae, e ka ana nga raiti a te Pakeha, engari kua kitea nga kokona pouri a toku iwi. Kei hea ra nga reo waiata o mua, nga reo tawai, kakata ranei o nga kotiro, nga mare o nga taitane, nga tangi ranei? Kua pau mutu ake ki nga taone. Apopo, ngaro atu nga kaumatua o te kainga, aku karani e noho mai nei i Mahinepua, ka pehea tatou nga taitamariki o Te Wainui, o Mahinepua, o Te Ngaere? Ahau me aku tamariki? Me aha—me whakamutu enei whakaaro ki te himene nei, ‘Tera ano he kainga pai ake nei i tenei.’ and sad gatherings, the many marriages and in the adjacent dining-house the many dances that echoed throughout its walls, and the feasts that were eaten there. Our school house—now there was a place, a place where we first started to learn. When I went to school here, there were sixty or more pupils. We had two basketball teams, a football team and all sorts of competitive sports including competitive choir-singing. Oh. how my heart aches at the wealth of my memories! As I grew older, the people turned to harvesting the sea, fishing and selling their catch to Pakehas from Auckland. From the forests, collecting of Jew's Ear fungus was started, to sell to the Chinese buyers. This was how it was. I left home to go to college and during the school holidays I returned to find that the drift to the towns had begun. The houses and land were left there standing like empty shells with nothing inside and the drift continued until the number of inhabited houses dropped from seventeen to seven in Wainui, from eleven to three in Mahinepua and in Ngaere from twenty to two. When I married, I went home to my village and Ngatiruamahoe, and I emerged from there a woman, leaving behind my friends, my parents and memories. Today, looking back from my home here in Wellington, I see that the school house is being closed after all these years, leaving an empty place. The electricity is in my village now, but I think it came too late. Yes, the electric light shines brightly, but it shows up the dark corners in the houses of my people. Where are the singing voices of long ago, the teasing voices, the giggles of the young girls and the sly coughs of the young men, or the cries of pain? It is finished. Tomorrow, when all the old folks including my own grand-parents have gone, what will become of us, my generation? Who will teach and show us the way? I can only end these thoughts with the words of the hymn: ‘There is a home, far more beautiful than this!’