We call them Ngā Atawhai -
a reflection of their first contact with us.
The name they have for themselves
not pronounceable by our tongue.
Their first visit,
they made contact with some
they believed would be less belligerent.
They told of their story -
and stories were sacred
to the people they met.
They began by speaking of
their mountains,
their rivers,
their people.
They placed themselves
in the cosmos.
Then,
only then,
did they begin to speak of their dishonour
to tell of their past.
They had been a violent people,
destroying all life on their home world -
including an indigenous people,
much different from themselves.
This is a wound they carry -
part of what defines them.
In the distant past
they swore off violence and became
in the words of their listeners
“kaitiaki” -
guardians and protectors.
Their world circled Gacrux
an orange-red star
visible at the top of what later colonisers
would refer to as the Southern Cross.
A notable light in the night sky
where they could point to their home system,
“We are from here!”
The star,
as it aged,
began to grow,
making the home of Ngā Atawhai uninhabitable -
pushing them to the outer planets of their system,
none as beautiful or habitable as their home world.
So,
they carried the guilt and shame
those they had destroyed,
and the loss of their home.
These strands giving them
respect for life and the natural world -
non-violence
empathy
compassion
central to who they are.
They recoiled
observing their hosts taking sentient life,
trying to hide their disgust -
trying to remember that they too had done this.
Their first visit marked by respect
noting in journals and histories
contact with this
tiny
insignificant
world.
They departed,
continuing their quest for
others like themselves.
Some say they are still among us -
waiting until we are ready.
Lee Sturgis