Lighted torches mark the 30 graves identified to date on a North Kaua'i shoreline construction site. Hawaiians have been trying to protect the site from being disturbed, but a concrete foundation was since poured on the property. - Photo: OHA staff

By Kai Markell / Director, OHA Native Rights, Land and Culture Hale

I had heard about the growing conflict on Kaua'i, in Wainiha, in an area known as Naue. Our
precious and beloved iwi kupuna again threatened by construction. This time, by a home on the beach in an area of Hā'ena already covered with vacation homes and rentals. As home by home encroaches upon the beach, our kūpuna, who lived in coastal communities and who buried their 'ohana in their kulāiwi again face destruction, desecration or eviction. Even in death. It was Mary Kawena Puku'i, the noted Hawaiian scholar, who helped to define iwi as “the most cherished possession” of our Hawaiian people. I often ask myself, when did that change?

I received an e-mail with a plea for kōkua. Construction crews were scheduled to begin work in the Naue Cemetery where 30 kūpuna had been identified to date through archaeological testing. I knew in my naÿau that all my excuses of being overwhelmed with so many issues on so many islands meant nothing in the spiritual world. I needed to act. I felt kaumaha from not being on top of this case earlier. I felt kaumaha from so many burial cases on Kauaÿi which passed before my very eyes in my previous job. Knowing that I could have always done more than I did. Knowing the kūpuna expected it. Knowing the kūpuna deserved it. Putting all my faith in their forgiveness for my shortcomings. Kauaÿi is my precious kulāiwi. And I couldn't even protect the iwi of my own 'ohana in Kalihiwai and Moloaÿa. I knew the system was broken now for many years. And the e-mails which came flooding in with the kāhea for Naue only confirmed it yet again.

Two Kānaka embrace at the site of the graves. - Photo: OHA Staff

When Trustee Donald Cataluna requested that two OHA staff go to Naue for the June 24 gathering, and OHA Administration quickly approved it, I knew the kūpuna were offering me a way to redeem myself. Another Native Rights staffer, Jerome Yasuhara, and I caught a flight the next morning to Kaua'i and drove up to Hāÿena. We saw police cars, marked and unmarked, and Sheriff vans all driving about and headed up toward the North Shore. We feared the worst not knowing what had taken place at Naue earlier that morning.

When we arrived, law enforcement were scattered all throughout the neighboring communities in force. Staged away from the scene where only a few officers paced around at a distance. Kanaka began showing up in the early morning hours. Kaÿiulani Huff, who had been courageously living at the site for months, Aunty Nani Rogers, Aunty Louise Sausen, Brother Hank Fergerstrom and so many others converged on the scene and joined their 'uhane in honor of our kūpuna.

The sound of oli kāhea, oli komo, the lamenting kanikau, oli Aloha, and pū permeated the air throughout the six-hour standoff. He alo ā he alo. Face to face. Tears flowed. The mix of 'eha, kaumaha and aloha created a strange stillness in the air. As the numbers of kanaka and hoaaloha increased, so did the law enforcement. The mix of people there to mālama the kūpuna, as well as those willing to get arrested, exhibited such a diverse representation of nā poÿe o Hawaiÿi. Including mothers with small children. Some nursing babies.

Kaua'i Police Chief Darryl Perry discusses the situation with Ka'iulani Huff, Louise Sausen and Hank Fergerstrom. - Photo: OHA staff

The police chief arrived on the scene. Negotiations ensued amongst the ongoing backdrop of voices engaged in protocol. The sounds of the pū. The kāne of the pā lua showed up in greater numbers. So did the law enforcement presence. Photography and videography ensued all over. The police filmed us. We filmed them. Others filmed us and them. Bearing witness to the tension and possible eruption of chaos, which was omnipresent.

The kāne of the pā lua entered the burial ground in formation. The police were invited to enter the burial ground by Ka'iulani to pay their respects to the kūpuna. They entered with an oli kāhea, pū and oli komo. It was decided that the boundaries of the parcel would have to be determined before arrests for trespassing could be made. An inability to determine the makai boundary from an expired shoreline survey made the task so difficult that day that it was abandoned. There were no arrests on this day. The crowds slowly dispersed. The constant kiaÿi present on the beach returned to their tents. We flew back to Oÿahu emotionally exhausted. Analyzing the events of the day. Wondering if we should have gotten arrested. Wondering what tomorrow morning would bring or the next kāhea. Asking Ke Akua and nā kūpuna for forgiveness for not knowing the answers.

Ka'iulani Huff, who has been living at the site for months to prevent construction, stands among the lighted torches. While she confers with Kaua'i law enforcement, a police officer videotapes the exchange. Inset: A sign on the site. - Photo: OHA Staff

I returned to Naue on Friday, July 11, when the kāhea went out again. This time the dust fence was erected around the entire parcel and the sounds of a backhoe digging in the cemetery was heard. We tried to bear witness to the destruction. We spoke to our kūpuna on the other side of the black curtain so they knew why we were there. Also to remind ourselves why we were there. And as the kaumaha of the day settled in on the worksite, some of the workers rushed out to the beach in a confrontation. The police were summoned by both sides. No arrests were made but investigations were initiated. Some things were said by some kanaka in the heated exchanges, which brought forth the dark cursing power of our ÿōlelo. It made me sad. I think it made our kūpuna sad too.

Several kanaka were part of the construction crew. I knew their 'eha was eating them inside by their faces. Young men. They said they had to feed their 'ohana. I understand the capitalistic system which tears our 'ohana apart. I have seen the 'ohana fight each other for little pieces of 'āina. The almighty dollar. I understand all too well, e nā pōkiÿi.

I told these young kanaka workers that I love them. He alo ā he alo. But I love my kūpuna too. And I don't want anyone to get hurt on this project. So while we desperately work on legal intervention and a temporary restraining order, I know the work continues. We all make our choices in this life. And my heart and na'au hurt like Ka'iulani. Aunty Nani. Aunty Louise. Brother Hank. Like so many others.

So I asked Ke Akua and our kūpuna to watch out for the kanaka on the job site. Because our beloved Queen taught us about love and forgiveness. About pono. And we just want to protect our precious kūpuna. Because we love them. They are all we have left to guide us into an uncertain future. Our most cherished possessions. And if I cannot find it in my heart to forgive another kanaka. In the presence of my loving and forgiving kūpuna. Not only have I lost them. I truly have lost everything. Everything…