From Extraction to Restoration: A Tale of Two Islands - Day 4.

Disclaimer:

This kōrero is shared with deep respect for the people, land, and history of Saint Helena. While inspired by research and Indigenous frameworks, it does not claim to speak on behalf of the island or its communities. The intention is to offer possibilities — not prescriptions — and to spark conversations grounded in care, collaboration, and cultural integrity. Any future restoration must be led by local voices, guided by mutual respect, and rooted in shared stewardship.

In the heart of the South Atlantic, two islands — Aotearoa and St Helena — share a story of colonial intrusion, ecological devastation, and the silent inheritance of intergenerational trauma. But they also share something else: the possibility of restoration. A future where dignity, sovereignty, and cultural resilience rise from the roots of their ancestral soil.

For the people of St Helena, the legacy of slavery is not just a chapter in their past; it is woven into the very fabric of their present. The island’s history is marked by forced labour, violence, and systemic erasure. Their ancestors arrived as captives — African, Indian, and Southeast Asian people, bound by chains across the ocean. Yet, even in captivity, they carried within them the seeds of survival.

Today, those survivors' descendants are still reclaiming their place in the world. For many, the path forward feels steep — a constant climb from the wounds of history into the light of their own potential. They are still building, still navigating the complexities of a future shaped by others' choices. And in that struggle, there is often a blindness — a lack of access to the full understanding of their own power, their own worth.

It is here, in this space, that the restorative power of harakeke could begin its quiet revolution.

Harakeke, the New Zealand flax, is more than just a fibre. It is a symbol of resilience. It is a thread of continuity that has survived millennia of change and challenge. In Aotearoa, harakeke has been woven into the cultural fabric of Māori, who have long understood its value — not just as a resource, but as a living legacy. In St Helena, harakeke is not native, but its potential to heal both the land and its people is undeniable.

For centuries, the story of harakeke has been a story of disconnection — from the whenua (land), from the tikanga (protocols), and from its true potential. In St Helena, it is a similar story. An introduced plant, growing wild, misunderstood, and misused. But just as Aotearoa has begun to restore its relationship with harakeke, so too can St Helena.

The restoration of harakeke is more than just an agricultural endeavour. It is an act of reclaiming cultural identity, of restoring mana to a people whose heritage has been silenced for too long. It is about rewriting the narrative — from those who were once enslaved to those who are now the weavers of their own futures.

To the people of St Helena:
You are not merely survivors of history.
You are the carriers of wisdom, the architects of a future where dignity and sovereignty are restored, and value is reclaimed.
You are worthy of standing tall — not just in your struggle, but in the knowledge that your story, too, is one of strength.