Te Tānga Tuatahi

Like Matariki which again ascended the sky, so too has Pūkāea: Ngā Karere o Mātaatua, returning to our communities.

This re-launch is intended to bring our tribal stories home in print form once again - stories of whānau, of hapū, of iwi. Stories that are not only told but expressed in ways that are authentically ours.

Pūkāea has always been a source of news, whakaaro, and connection. Today, we honour our earlier legacy by carrying it forward with a fresh commitment and enthusiasm to tell our own stories. This is a bilingual and locally crafted publication shaped by the voices of our own rohe. Not media made from a distance, but kōrero borne of our communities.

Inside this issue you will find iwi perspectives, whānau celebrations, hapū reflections on Matariki, and glimpses of what matters most to us now. Some stories are drawn from recent events, others from within our archives, but all are chosen to reflect the journeys of Mātaatua.

This magazine is designed to carry our voices proudly in print, online, and on the airwaves, each platform supporting the other. This issue is the beginning , a rebirth.

To those who have carried and supported this taonga through the years, tēnā koutou. To those holding Pūkāea for the first time, nau mai, haere mai. May you see yourself, your whānau, hapū, your iwi, reflected in these pages.

Ngā mihi maioha,

Te Rōpū o Pūkāea

Also in this issue of Pūkāea

Te Hokinga Mai o Pūkāea

Honouring Rik Mitai

He Reo Rangahau

Te Hokinga Mai o Pūkāea

There was a time when regional Māori voices weren’t being documented. National coverage overlooked local realities. Māori newspapers came and went, but few stayed long enough to build a relationship with place. Pūkāea began with a clear intention, to speak from the whenua, to the people who stand on it.

Born in Mataatua, it made space for stories that were anchored here. Not shaped by trends or national focus, but by the lived experience of iwi, hapū, and whānau across this region.

And for many in Mataatua today, the name carries weight. Not because it was glossy or mainstream, but because it spoke directly to the people of this rohe. From the early 2000s, Pūkāea ran as a printed Māori publication focused entirely on local voices — iwi perspectives, hapū initiatives, whānau profiles, marae events, and Māori viewpoints that weren’t being documented anywhere else.

Its stories came from Whakatāne, Ōpōtiki, Te Teko, Tauranga Moana, Waimana, Rūātoki, Ruatāhuna, and surrounding areas. It wasn’t broad. It was specific. It was regional. And that’s exactly what made it powerful.

The paper was sustained through sheer commitment. Long before automation and digital workflows, copies were folded, sealed, stamped, and addressed by hand. Staff would down tools to prepare stacks of envelopes for posting. Before any of that, the stories had to be researched, written, edited — often translated into te reo Māori — and laid out for print.

It was shaped by the hands and thinking of people like Nanny Onehou, and the many kaimahi who carried the kaupapa across years of print. That voice is still needed — perhaps now more than ever. Ko te reo o Mataatua e kore e ngaro. Mā te Pūkāea, ka rangona anō.

Two names stand out in the history of the paper: Whare Akuhata and Onehou Phillis. Whare served as editor for several years. His role brought structure, consistency, and a sharp editorial approach to the kaupapa. Under his guidance, Pūkāea maintained its balance — carrying stories that were informative but grounded in the realities of the region.

After some years, Pūkāea was absorbed into the operations of Te Reo Irirangi o Te Mānuka Tūtahi and continued to publish under TumekeFM. While the format shifted and resources changed, the kaupapa stayed intact: our stories, our voice. Alongside him — and at times also in the editorial seat — Onehou Phillis was a defining voice in the publication. Known for her command of both te reo Māori and English, her writing carried depth and clarity. She could weave tribal knowledge, cultural insight, and sharp observation into pieces that resonated with whānau across generations. Her presence ensured the paper remained connected to tikanga, to language, and to the people. In many homes, her articles are still remembered — and kept.

The value of their work isn’t just in the editions they helped produce. It’s in what those editions now represent. They’re records. Archives. Snapshots of a region speaking to itself. For some whānau, Pūkāea holds the only published image or quote of a loved one. For others, it’s where a story about their marae or hapū was first acknowledged in writing.

There are very few Māori-led publications that focus exclusively on a single rohe. Even fewer that have lasted as long, with as much community backing, and as many layers of cultural integrity. Pūkāea is one of them. Its importance isn’t in its format. It’s in its purpose. It was built to be a voice for Mataatua.

Ngā Karere o Pūkāea

The mauri of Pūkāea, a once-sleeping Mātaatua-led Māori publication, originally launched in 1992, has returned as a modern regional news and storytelling service, broadcast daily and digitally, to connect generations and revitalise local Māori narratives. The revival honours its founders and signals a bold future driven by both kaumātua and rangatahi voices.

Regional News for Mātaatua Launches

On 1 February 2025, Pūkāea was launched as a regional Māori news service for Mātaatua. The mauri of the original kaupapa was reawakened at Kāpū-Te-Rangi through karakia led by Haturini McGarvey, with support from some of the same whānau who helped establish Pūkāea in 1992.

Wikitoria Day (Tūhoe, Ngāti Awa) and Kereama Wright (Te Arawa, Ngā Ruahinerangi) lead the kaupapa. Together, they are focused on restoring a dedicated Māori news presence in the region — reporting in te reo Māori, grounded in local issues, and led by local voices.

Pūkāea now broadcasts daily on Tumeke FM and publishes online across its digital channels.