MARIST AND I, HAVE SERIOUS HISTORY!

When I checked my blog this morning, I noticed that my last post was a little over a month ago! Goodness gracious! Life has been busy lately. The word 'busy' doesn't really do much justice to the literal happenings of my life in the past two months. Sleep was reduced from 8 hours to 2 - 3 hours a night, project meetings progressed from once a week to three nights a week, balancing work and my personal commitments with family obligations became a juggling game. Whilst three balls were in the air, two had to be carefully and precisely prepared to fly into the air, whilst a platform had to be ready to catch the others and the cycle would continue! You might be wondering, what on earth is she talking about?

Well, three months ago, I was approached with a proposal to use my skills and experience with media work, to assist the Marist Brothers Old Pupils’ Association – MBOPA Samoa NZ Organising Committee with its work, by promoting and coordinating all things media related for the association. (I know, please try and bear with the acronyms).

I loved the idea and was/is extremely ecstatic. I have been waiting for 14 years for an opportunity, for the right time and right ingredients to position myself in a place where and time where I can give back to a school that had changed so much for me and my fates. You see, if something felt right, I always go with my gut instinct. I thought it would be the ideal chance that I had been waiting for…it was my opportunity to give back to a school that I held very close to my heart.

(Although I didn’t spend more than just a year with Marist St. Joseph’s College, the school has done so much for me and my current future). Now here’s the part where things are going to start to get a tad bit personal, but in this story, it’s inevitable. The information I’m about to depart with, is known to many, yet few, and extremely sensitive to me and my family, but is the ‘essence’ of my history with Marist St.Joseph’s College.

At the age of 17, I was older and more matured than my years. Perhaps too much for my own good. I wouldn’t be the first, but still in the eyes of Samoan society, teenage pregnancies were very much ostracized and not many sympathise with the young girls who found themselves in those circumstances, (however unfortunate it was for their young lives or the social circumstances which may have led them down that path). It was and still can be a cruel reality of the societies that we live in. Anyways, back then the colleges I had attended didn’t have a Form 6 or Year 13 level, which meant I had to complete this year at a Catholic school that facilitated this need in order to transit to University entrance preparatory year or Form 7.


It had to be a Catholic school, I had never been educated elsewhere, and despite my un-catholic ordeal, it was still very important to complete my education in the Catholic Faith. Well, the one school which was most appropriate (and I’m not going to name the school here as I’ve moved on from that whole episode), turned me down. The exact words of a member of the cloth on the board (which got back to my family, Samoa being such a small place) were that ‘damaged females should not mix with girls’.

We thought it would be the end of my short educational life (at least in Samoa) being an only child, meant there was no way my Father would let me move to a relative in New Zealand or elsewhere to complete my education. We lost hope, until somehow, Brother Kevin O’Malley Principal of Marist St. Joseph’s College, had somehow seen the School Certificate National results and somehow heard that one of the students with the leading national English Marks was not fated to complete Year 13 level.
And that’s how it all started.

For the first time in Marist St. Joseph’s History, a teenage mother was accepted into the school. Brother Kevin met with my family and I, he sent tutors home for private tutoring for each of my five main subjects. I had my first born in April, and I was back to school in June for the second term. I remember asking him, “Will it be okay for me to wear mufti?” He replied matter-of-factly, “Why would you?” I remember searching his face for more but there was only fact. “You’ll be a student, just like everyone else,” he said.
Well, it wasn’t really the case at first. The younger boys caught on with the gossip pretty fast, and my first month at school was a little purgatory on earth. Whispers, wayward looks, and outright smart remarks and name calling, I was dubbed ‘mom’ and I would bend my head and quicken my steps home (We lived just ten minutes from the school). Even my own relatives at the school didn’t want to be associated with me, for fear of shame from others. Some seriously considered changing their last names from mine. (Yeah, we can’t always choose family can we).

I remember considering quitting many times. But I also loved learning and studying and getting past each hurdle till I get to the next. My love of the academic arts surpassed it all. So I persevered and surprisingly for me, my class mates made it worth my while.

All the boys in my class were super supportive. Once they got to know me, they became my fierce protectors. The younger ones no longer dared to call me names, they had been warned against it, that doing so would result in a painful experience. Back then, you never saw of those ‘painful’ experiences. Before I knew it, I was one of them. I had many girlfriends, I attract girls like magnets to a fridge. But the truth is, what really got me through that year, was the support and respect of the boys in my class. One of them passed away earlier this year, Dr. Mika Ah Koui, we spent many days together in biology and chemistry labs. (RIP old friend).

The year went by, I participated in various school activities, sports, athletics, cultural activities, choir, and went on field trips, and a whole lot of afterschool getaways. Yes, I became like any other student. Young as I was, my parents had taken over the rearing of my child, and being first time grandparents, they really didn’t care anymore what I did with myself, as long as I came home, attended school and went onto greener pastures. And of course there was that very Samoan concept, that the baby was now theirs, and I was to just continue with school.

Thinking back to it now, I realise how privileged I had been to have my family, parents, friends and the support of the boys in my class, eventually the school, all of my teachers and Br. Kevin O’Malley. (Which was not always the case for many teenage mothers in Samoa at that time). Had I not been given that support, who knows what would have happened to me. I would have had to deal with being a mother, when I was still trying to find myself as a young adult and woman. I shudder at the idea, that I could have gone another path, had it not been for my Marist SJC school.


Later that year, I passed and graduated with very good marks (despite a lot of fooling around just like any normal teenager would at their last year of school). In fact, I was just one point off from first overall in History from the boy (another friend) who took the first place trophy. (I personally think the male teacher could have added an extra mark for my essay but hey I didn’t care, I had 96 out of a 100). When the Pacific Senior School Certificate PSSC results came out the next year, out of some 45 girls from our year, only 11 made the cut. Yours’ truly was one of them. I couldn’t believe it. It was surreal, to be able to go through that year, to stand up after a fall, carry on, be normal again, and come out on top. What a year that was for me! My parents were extremely proud. I owed it to Br. Kevin, to the whole school, that I did not use the opportunity in vain. I will be forever grateful.


Later on, I went on to work as a journalist at the Samoa Observer, whilst I was studying towards a double Major in Law and Journalism, at the University of the South Pacific – Alafua, (like I said, my Daddy could never let me go). I passed my Certificate in Criminal Law. I went on to work at various newspapers including Newsline and Talamua before I went on to Television, with the State owned SBC TV One and Radio. (All the while I was studying part time at the University). From there I went on to work at the Legislative Assembly – Parliament of Samoa, at the Hansard Department, simultaneously translating/interpreting live Parliamentary debates into English, translating all Samoan Hansard records, assisting with translations of legislations, etc. I was there for a year, when I was selected Media Officer for an all new Executive Team for the Samoa Football Soccer Federation. (I was on my second year of law school by then). It was six months into that role, when we received news, that we were successful in the Quota ballot scheme for Permanent Residence in NZ, 2009. We paid everything and made the move – and here I am.


With the move, I decided I needed to do something different, using my transferrable skills, of report writing, researching, alysing, writing proposals, facilitating, presentation skills, people skills, understanding legislation and laws, and my passion for working with people without a voice, and making a difference in their lives. So I changed career paths, and applied to be a Probation Officer with the Department of Corrections. Where a lot of report writing is what I do, as well as making a difference in peoples’ lives, by working together with other community and government agencies to manage their sentences in the community and formulate counter plans to reduce their reoffending and risks in the community and hopefully create long lasting changes in their behaviours and mind sets. Studies are still on my list of things to do, (I’m still young, still four more years of study left in me), but for now, my children are my priority.

But, as with any writer, my love for the ink and words, is perhaps the strongest force in my life and being. I will always go back to writing, no matter what. Thus, here’s my story. Vulnerable, exposed, wide open book for all to see, but like I always say to my offenders, the ability to show vulnerability takes courage, strength and a lot of guts. Some of the best writers in history, are the best because they wear their hearts on their sleeves.


Next week on the 25th of December, we will have been married for 10 years and together for 12. We have been blessed with five children. My eldest son and second born child, is named after Br. Kevin. Kevin, is a highly active sports athlete, with what appears to be a promising rugby athletics career in front of him, with the right attitude and support. My first born is now in College, and she is inspiration itself to me. Actively participates in all sports, and at the very top of her academic studies and class. The younger three are no different. Each child unique and gifted. I have been truly blessed. The fates and God have blessed me, with at first a rocky, challenging and trying beginning, but I have learned, it’s our trials that make us strong. I’ve adapted a lot of resilience, I am much stronger when life throws me hurdles, my Dad passed away last year, but I am still moving on. With a supportive husband, healthy beautiful children, caring family – it’s not the beginning that counts, its how you finish!

My MARIST experience taught me to strive for the best no matter what life throws at you, you get up and you keep fighting, keep on striving, and eventually all good things come to those who work hard.

MARIST MAKING LEADERS:

So from the 9th of December - 14th of December, we celebrated 50 years of MBOPA Samoa NZ existence in New Zealand, as well as a continued celebration of the 125 years of Marist Brothers' presence and contribution to education in Samoa. The original organising committee consisted of 18 males, and one female, myself. Yet another first for me and Marist history itself. According, to the Organising Committee Chairman Faimalo Allan Stowers, it was the first time that a former female student, was involved on that level, in MBOPA Samoa NZ activities. I am extremely humbled by this opportunity. Many of my lady friends often asked me, "How do you do it?" Referring of course to juggling a highly demanding job, family and then being the only female amongst a group of men. I always said, the hard part was juggling family, job and committee obligations, the latter was the fun part. (grinning from ear to ear). No seriously, for some women, being alone with a bunch of men, can be quite overwhelming, and not at all comforting. But, I think I owe it to being an only child, I sometimes find myself in my element at the most unorthodox of places and situations. (grinning). And well, to be fair, when you have a good mix of people in the group, it makes a huge difference.

It was truly a unique experience and one that I will do over and over again, and will not change a single thing about it. It started from working on the Media Team for the committee in coordinating articles for mainstream and social media networks, and later on I ended up taking on Secretarial roles, some negotiating on behalf of the Committee and organising activities and liaising on behalf of the men where a woman's touch would be more effective than a man's voice. It was a lot of fun. Challenges I think came in the sense, that sometimes men being men, can forget that a woman has a voice, and an opinion, and that regardless of age or status I was not there as a woman, I was there as a member of a fraternity that I too belonged to with just as much right as any other man.

It was a learning experience. I worked alongside some hardworking, driven and passionate, successful in their own right, men. Who would always take criticism and turn it into a positive. I felt the MARIST SPIRIT there stronger than ever. There was always a strong sense of pride, an essence of brotherhood and belonging to the same family. If there was anything that I would have liked to add to the experience, it would have been to see more former female students involved. But we understand that it's still early days for MBOPA in NZ let alone, female students involved in any Marist activities. If you're reading this and you're a former female student, ladies, I challenge you, don't just turn up to the functions and siva's, I would really like to see more female students involved in our body meetings, decision making, organising and development of our association. It is truly an association, that we can proudly call our own and it welcomes each of you with open arms. It is a place where we can make a difference, for our communities and for the future of a school that has done so much for Samoa.

Much has been said about the Marist Brothers' history and its contribution to education in Samoa and to the Marist schools itself. So I will not go into those details. But I would like to re-emphasise what makes us fellow MARISTS so proud to belong to the Marist Family. Malisi has produced leaders for Samoa, currently, the Prime Minister, Chief Justice, Speaker of Parliament, Attorney General and heads of Government Departments, Leaders in the Business sector, Sports Legends are all proud and avid members of the Marist fraternity. In NZ, never before in the history of any other old students association, has there been two of its members serving top diplomatic posts for Samoa simultaneously. The Samoa High Commissioner to New Zealand, HE Afioga Leasi Papali'i Scanlan and Samoa Consular General Afioga Faolotoi Fatialofa Pogi are both avid Marists and patrons of MBOPA in NZ. This is a legacy that we can all be proud of and contribute to its continued success for future generations out of the Marist education system.

Our weeklong celebrations again was the first of its kind to have ever been attempted by MBOPA Samoa NZ. It was a very successful week. Enjoyed by all who attended, and once again the MARIST spirit was always felt throughout all events. We have received countless feedback from our partners and supporters who were extremely happy and pleased with our activities, particularly the spectacular Gala Dinner finale, which saw attendance from 600 people, all 60 tables for 10, sold out. Fine food and wine was always in abundance, and $55,000tala was raised and donated to the Marist School in Samoa to assist with the remaining balance of its' '3 in 1' project, comprising of a Library, Computer Lab and Science Lab, valued at $1.5 million tala, to which $1.1 million tala has already been paid off. It was an extremely proud moment for MBOPA Samoa NZ and the Organising Committee. To have literally started the whole event from nothing, and to end up with all expenses paid for plus a $55k donation. It's an achievement to be commended.






MBOPA Samoa Organising Committee, Chairman Afioga Muliagatele Faimalo Allan Stowers, MBOPA President Leota Saufua, Secretary Fiaai Viaane McCarthy, Vice-President Toe Pa'u, Treasurer Peter Stowers, Pio Henry Soagia, my Media Team Rasmus Pereira, and our newest addition Seumanu Francis Ioane, Lemalu Semo Sititi, Faumui Toleafoa, Ah Chong Sam Chong, Tovi'o Lepou, and my dearest darling husband Lafaitele Danny Leaupepe and our whole committee, Fa'afetai tele lava for the experience. We learn from our shortcomings, we celebrate our achievements and we grow in our passion, commitment and dedication to the Marist Spirit and to ourselves.

Last but no the least, my thanks to my mother, my children and my husband, for your support, your patience, understanding, tolerance and love. Without all of that, I would not have been able to be a part of this special milestone in Marist history.

"Forevermore, Forever Yours, Forever Marist".

Amongst other things, I also write poetry...this is the first in many moons. Red Forbidden Wine.

When desire is red forbidden wine...
Where unbeknown joys and pleasures may await,
Spirit, Freedom, Youth and Rights, locked in an endless circle
Black mould wraps logic...
consumes warmth
But locked, locked away in a square, locked away in a box.
Closed. Shut. Prisoner of thy own bed.
Prisoner in thy own head..
Never to fly...
Withers...dies

Be bold..be brave .. be fearless
Key to lock honesty
Endless guesses exhausting, mind numbing
Circles confusing...circles excruciating
Closed. Shut. Prisoner of aimless provocation
Prisoner in thy own head.
Never to fly
Withers...dies
But rescue is wine
Deep, red, velvet...smooth, soft gentle roll wine.
Withers...dies.

Matai over Tattoo

I have tried my best to stay out of the Traditional Tattoo/ Tatau/ Malu debate. It's been a much talked about topic since the Nike fiasco and then singer Rihanna's stint with what appeared to be Malu pattern designs tatted on her hand after her tour in Auckland New Zealand recently. And then she covered it up. The whole topic involves a lot of emotions, provokes a lot of thoughts, usually with references to what is the correct practise around the use of the Traditional Tattoos, who should get one, who should be imposing tattoos, and now lately, which is the better sex to impose the Malu, which is traditionally reserved for Samoan females. I have tried to stay out of this topic, mainly because one, I don't have a Malu, and I don't plan on getting one anytime soon (mainly because I want to lose weight first and save up for it - they literally cost an arm and a leg, two thighs to be exact), and thirdly because I feel that the emphasis placed on the arguments could be better, or let me put it this way - it could be different. The arguments have been the same for as far as I can remember! Who, why, when and how! What about relevance? What about importance in relation to our culture and our connection with each other? Yes, its the ultimate honour that any Samoan woman could get, it is her induction into the realm of Samoan womanhood, signifying strength and independence. But is it the only honour that is accorded to a Samoan woman, or man? Is it the only ultimate acknowledgement that we can award a Samoan man or woman? Because all this debating has shadowed every other forms of honour that Samoan men and women can come into.

Which brings me to my argument. I feel that the popular arguments on the topic are putting too much emphasis on overused points, and therefore exhausting the topic itself, which quite frankly, I thought it was getting too boring to write about anymore. Yes the Malu is traditionally valuable and important. The Tatau is important. It is a traditional art. Simply put. I mean no disrespect to the entity of the Malu or any man or woman who has had the Tatau or the Malu. In fact I have huge admiration for those who have weathered the a'u and made themselves and their families proud. I have many relatives who have the laei. It is definitely a mark to bear with pride and honour. The fact that I am related to them,even makes me proud.

But then there is also something more important that I feel we are not giving enough credit in the world of print and social media. The honour of bearing the lineage of your family. The privilege of gaining the trust and respect of your Aiga, by being selected out of no doubt hundreds of extended relatives to bear the Titles or Chiefly Matai names of your families. Chiefly Titles or Suafa Matai, are Samoa's Mea sina/Taonga/Treasures. Without titles your lineages will be lost. Without titles your traditional gafa/lineage may cease to exist. A Matai is carefully selected by their extended families, in a fono or gathering of other already titled leaders of the family. Whoever's going to bear the title, must be courageous, brave and fearless to take their place amongst the saofa'iga or seating of chiefs in the village, and chiefs of the extended families. The chosen will receive the blessings of the village or district Pastors and church leaders, before they receive that of the already titled chiefs or matai of their Aiga. The ceremonies requires a lot of collected monetary donations to the villagers, extended families and sometimes neighbouring districts, as well as a celebratory feast for all who attend,(which is usually the whole village, men and women alike).

This aspect of the fa'a Samoa (Samoan Way),is pivotal to its very existence. The Matai Village Council is the highest and most powerful entity in the village. Whatever the council says, the villagers will ask how much? Samoa is the only country in the world with a Village Council Act, which regulates the decisions and actions of the village council impacting on the development and wellbeing of the village. Samoa is also the only country in the world that has a Lands and Titles Court, where cases determining the rightful ownership of titles and land associated with these titles are determined in a Court setting. A Samoan title, I must say is just as honourable as any English Royal Family title. Both useless in both countries, but extremely valuable in their own lands. In fact, former Head of State and much loved leader of Samoa, the late Honourable Susuga Malietoa Tanumafili II; is well known for stating to the late King of Tonga, when he was asked as to why his people don't bow to him, his famous reply was; "In Samoa, everyone's a king". A saying no truer than its exact translation. Our titles mean, we are kings/leaders in our own families.

Matais are bestowed titles in order to take up the responsibilities of leading and guiding their Aiga, Villages, Districts and extended families. A famous Samoan saying goes; "O le Ala I le Pule o le Tautua", "The Path to Leadership, is through Service". You are selected to take up the privilege and responsibility; of carrying your whole aiga's heritage, by the way you have served your family. Whether you have brought them honour and pride in your individual efforts in life, whether you have honoured your family through service to the village, church and extended family, whether your father and his father before him had served the Aiga and the villages well. Service. You don't just decide by yourself, "I am going to get a Matai Title". You don't just decide, "I am going to pay $3,000.00 next week so I can get a title". No. There are traditional sacred protocols that must be followed. Leaders who's opinions are crucial, have to determine whether you make the cut. Whether you've done enough to serve your family, and make them happy, proud and want not for anything. Service. It is not received through a mere ancient traditional artistic practise, it has to be EARNED through hard work, dedication, commitment, sweat, honesty, and most of all alofa/love for your Aiga. Some may argue that it is hardly the case these days. That it is almost just as commercialised as the Traditional Tattoos. But we all know different. Yes, it may be the case for some families, but it may well be, that those individuals received that honour, if not by their service, but through the service of their ancestors and their parents before them.

It would be six years this month, since I had received the same honour from my mother's family. In November of 2007, my mother decided with her brothers and sisters, who are the Matais and leaders of our family; together with chiefs of her extended families, that instead of her, the title will go to her only child and daughter. I would be bestowed with the title of Semau, an oratory title (meaning I have a whole lot of serving to do), alongside chosen others like me. I remember having mixed feelings about it all. Waking up early that morning, to the fresh air of the big Island of Savai'i, and wondering whether I had earned this respect. Whether I had done enough. Whether I deserved it. Getting cold feet and overwhelmed with the reality of just how much of a responsibility I would be taking on. Was I ready to face titled men in my extended family, as another matai and more importantly as a titled woman? Women getting titles was still fairly new for most families, and some conservatives were still taking it hard.

Interestingly, I remembered being filled with a serene calmness that morning. An epiphany then hit me, I felt the warmth of my ancestors, of my mother's mother who had once adored me and smothered me with love and always welcomed me with open arms, she always made me feel that that was where I belonged. (We hardly went to my mother's family when I was a child). It came to me, without this link, I may never go back to that beautiful luscious greenery of Savai'i, should my mother leave this world. With my afakasi upbringing, I sometimes tended to lean more towards the western world more comfortably than the my Samoan heritage on both my parents' families. I remember thinking that 'if I don't take up that link, that challenge, I may never go back without my mother. My children may never know of their grandmother's family, her village, her extended aiga and her mea sina'. It was a beautiful awakening notion. My title would be my living link to my mother's family, and her mother's family. My children will have the right to go there anytime, any day and they will rightly say, 'This is my Aiga'. Since my title bestowal, only my family and close friends know that I am a matai. This is mostly because, I had believed in the words of my other grandmother, that a 'tamali'i' does not need public acknowledgement. People will know who you are, you don't have to tell them. She's right. But today, I am breaking my own rule, to acknowledge the people who have allocated their trust, respect and honour to me. My Lauano Semau Aiga.

(That's me behind the lady in blue. I remember refusing to come to the front, because I could not for the life of me, fold my legs properly. The title bestowal ceremony is called the Saofa'i. (Sit). They're not kidding about the sitting part. You sit there for almost 3-4 hours, folding your legs as such, the sitting, was not a pleasant experience for me).

(That's my husband Lafaitele Danny Leaupepe - second from the left; his was the bestowal of a High Chief Title - he too, does not have a traditional tattoo).

There are hundreds, if not thousands like me. They bear not a traditional lae'i, but they bear the titles and heritage of their families. They bear the links that will carry one generation into the next. A code that will hold a family intact for many years and many services and many bestowal ceremonies. They silently serve their families, village and church, through traditional fa'alavelave, through love, commitment and support. I like to call them 'silent servants' (although in my case, I'm not always silent when fa'alavelaves hit me in volumes). Not sensational enough to sustain much of any social networking arguments. But powerful enough to lead and hold together a family through service. Tattooed or not, those men and women, are wearing the lae'i of their family gafa. Bodies decay with the earth, but lineage lives on through time, forever even, for as long as the Lord wills this earth to exist. Soifua.

Men - MAN UP!

Summer in Aotearoa is all about BBQs, picnics in the park, hiking, white sandy beaches, pools,family gatherings, maxis, jandals, flowering plants everywhere and good old Sunshine!
I hate to zap your bubble, but unfortunately, Summer is also often linked with a spike in crime and domestic violence. That's because, (and we all know this), Summer is the Party Season! Alcohol and social issues flow like a stream, soothing yet mind numbing and intoxicating. Domestic Violence is an issue, that affects families in all cultures, all economic classes and all ethnic groups.

'Violence is endemic in New Zealand', this is an opening line on an anti-domestic violence website I read today. Interesting isn't it? But realistically disheartening. Statistics support it too. As of June 2013, 39.1% of the country's prison population are serving time for violence related offences, the highest percentage, followed by 22.9% of sexual offences and 18.4% for dishonesty offences. For Community Based sentences, 25.4% are serving sentences for traffic offences (this makes sense as traffic offences' penalties sit across the lower end of the sentencing tariff and there's probably just as much cars as people these days), Violence follows closely at 23.3% and dishonesty offending at 21.8%. All public information. Now these percentages aren't breaking down the number of domestic related violence from general violence, but according to research, violence is almost always happening between people in relationships, intimate and otherwise.

As a Samoan, I hate (yes I've used the word hate), that people often normalise violence and beatings that go well beyond disciplining. I read and hear people say things along the lines of, "I was beaten as a child, and look at me now, I'm doing perfectly fine!". Rubbish! It's all very courageous to say this in front of people. But behind closed doors, the cracks are more visible. Research shows that victims of Domestic Violence can become insecure, undecided, abusive, angry adults; with low or no self esteem at all. You often see them go from one extreme to the other. Either they're extreme introverts, or they become the annoying overly trying attention seeking extroverts. Victims often have long lasting scars, that they often struggle with as adults, and growing adolescents. The effects and impacts on victims, aren't always physically visible. Especially the long lasting damage.

VICTIM SHAMING:

Domestic Violence cuts close to home for a lot of us. Many have scars that run deep and still very raw. Sadly, many do not feel comfortable enough to speak out about it. I find this extremely common with Samoan families. I know this, I'm a Samoan, born and raised the Samoan way. That includes, the 'disciplinary' methods. Many victims fear retribution. "Well it's her fault for dressing the way she does anyway". Or, "A woman should always follow what her husband says, if your husband is cheating, just gofo fa'alelei e koe fo'i mai lava (just be patient and faithful, he'll be back when he's ready".

The latter boils my blood. Honestly people?

Since when did the way a woman dress, causing a man's insecurity is her fault? How is it that it's her fault that her physical appearance, her God given gifts, and the way she prefers to dress or style, should be toned down, so that her husband or boyfriend doesn't get angry or jealous? How is his insecurity her fault? Furthermore, what justice and truth and honesty lies in a logic that demands a woman should remain truthful and patient, whilst her husband is satisfying his lustful needs somewhere else? How does a woman in such a situation should be expected to go through such cruelty and nonsense? What kind of society and people are we, if this is how we're treating our women?

Human shaming is so common in our culture, it compels people to behave a certain way, spend beyond their means, and endure beyond their limits. It compels woman victims to live and stay in unhealthy relationships and marriages, for fear of bringing shame to their aiga, shame to her children (from other children and people), shame to her abuser and his aiga (why is that even her concern, is beyond me). Victim shaming is re-victimising the victims all over again. If you're one of these people, I highly suggest you get a life and an education on Domestic Violence.

Now picture this excerpt from one of my future books, (don't ask me when it'll be written, just believe that it will happen, someday...).

'Her heart is racing. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Must get the food ready before.... The back door slams shut before she could think of her next thought. It was too late. He was home. She quickly turns off the oven and turned away from her cooking. She makes haste for the plate her son had left on the table and puts it in the sink. "Where's my food?" A man, larger than life appears from the door. She knew that scent too well. It was no longer a pleasant smell to look forward towards. It's almost ready. "Well hurry the fuck up. I'm tired woman," came the disgruntled reply. At that very second, little Tom bounced into the kitchen "Mommy, mommy..." the 6 year old's excitement quickly vanished when he saw his father, and his steps halted so abruptly he ended up slamming against his mother, causing her to fall back onto the oven. A loud clang of metal hitting the floor rang out. Oh dear God No. The pot of uncooked meat was now on the floor. She didn't have time to balance her feet, when he rushed across to the child, took his tiny arm and swivelled him across the house. She yelped with fear. No. She took one step forward and was thrown off her feet. What felt like an iron fist slammed into her chest, then her face, and again and again into her face. She saw a glimpse of Tom slowly getting up on his feet, and crying uncontrollably, his eyes full of fear. "mommy mommy...leave her alone...mommy". But he wasn't stopping. She tried to fight him, but she was no match for his heavy solid frame. At least he's left Tom alone. She was being slammed into the kitchen wall now. "I told you, the food should be ready before I get home, now see what you've done?" He asked this as he tilted her head back, his hands locked in a fistful of her hair. Her whole being was trembling with fear, with emptiness, with hatred and anger. She felt so alone and vulnerable. She wanted darkness to consume her. But she couldn't leave Tom behind by himself..."I'm sorry. I'll make it now," she willed herself to say. I must do this for Tom. I must stay strong. He threw her tiny frame towards the sink. "Hurry up or it'll be the end of you, both of you," he declared. She tried to move quickly but her back felt crushed and her insides were hurting. Tom ran over to her, whilst the big man went to watch his TV. She cuddled him to her as she tries to cover herself up. Her clothes had been torn from the big man's outburst of anger. Her hair fell all around her, blood was dripping from her nose, and her eyes swollen. But she held on tightly to Tom's little warm body and gathered her strength. Must keep on, must stay strong for my baby Tom. In another life, she would have been breathtakingly beautiful. In this life, at that very instant, she was useless, empty, and she felt small. Tom held onto his mother, lips and body trembling...he had seen everything.'

In 1999, the United Nations officially recognised the 25th of November as the Elimination of Violence Against Women Day. That's two weeks away. In NZ this will be commemorated with the 'White Ribbon Day'. A day when men stand up to support women victims of domestic violence, and to acknowledge that as victims of domestic violence themselves, they too grew up to react in the way that their fathers or abusers had reacted towards women, children or others. In 2011, Bikers took to the streets in a Northern Island ride, and they stopped in Manukau (husband and I attended), men who were once well entrenched into gangs and violence took responsibility for their actions and behaviours and spoke out about violence. They spoke about how they too were victimised as children and how they grew up to become abusers. They spoke of how they sought acceptance from gangs and drugs and alcohol, because they never felt accepted and loved in their own homes.

MEN CHALLENGE

With White Ribbon just around the corner, I challenge all men in our multicultural societies to stand up and say no to violence against women. Women are the generation bearers of society. Men - PLEASE MAN UP! Take the lead and say no to violence, be the hero in your children's eyes. Be the one to break that cycle of violence in your family. Be the one to stop your woman from hurting. It is not courage to hit someone less vulnerable than you. It's cowardice. And it's not alright to abuse someone else, just because you were abused. Nor is it alright to ignore this, when you see or know of someone abusing their loved ones, simply because you too were once abused and you survived. No. It's NEVER alright to abuse anyone, women and or children. It should NEVER be alright.

What can you do? For starters, cut down on the alcohol if it's causing problems between you and your loved ones. Have a safety plan in place, when tempers are flying, 'walk away', go cool off and when you come back, talk things over, calmly. If you are a victim, be brave enough to seek help and call the Police. If you know you're a short fuse like 'the big man', why not think about Anger Management counselling? Talk to someone who has a positive influence on you. A friend at church perhaps, a mate at work, a relative or even a counsellor. Get some help mate. It's never too late to change, but it will be too late for you and your family if you make that mistake.

In this post, I am simply hoping to plant a tiny seed here and there. I'm not a qualified counsellor, nor a psychologist, but I may as well have been one. In my line of work, I have been trained in highly competent trainings and courses of New Zealand Accredited Qualifications. So I damn well know what I'm talking about, when I say get the proper help and support in place, and things may well change! I am a believer of rehabilitation. It doesn't happen overnight, but you have to start somewhere to get to your ultimate goal. With the right attitude, pro-social supports from families and friends, and enough motivation - YOU can do it!

So with Summer kicking into full gear. Please remember, if you're not a victim, but know of someone in this situation, either a victim or an abuser, please don't turn a blind eye. If you're in an abusive relationship and having trouble managing your emotions, get some help, and lets ALL have a White violence free Summer!


NOTE:
You may find various Programme Providers for Domestic Violence counselling and treatment programmes in all areas throughout NZ. Providers vary by area, so look up who your nearest provider is on google. For Manukau Area, Friendship House in Manukau, and IOSIS Family Solutions in Manurewa are highly effective programmer providers. The Man Alive programme in Henderson, is also an outstanding programme.

NZ Born Samoans Vs Fresh Samoans - What is behind the rivalry?

Last week, I attended a two day training workshop that was aimed at introducing a new model, for The Department of Corrections staff to engage with Pasefika people called the 'Fauina o le Fale'(The Art of Constructing a Samoan House/Fale). It is the first of it's kind created by the Department, having acknowledged that there is a gap in its tools and approaches to counter an ever growing Pasefika representation within New Zealand's Criminal population. Pacific populations are over-represented within the NZ Criminal Justice System, despite making up only 7% of the total population. Pacific peoples make up 11.6% of the total prison population and approximately 10.7% of offenders serving community based sentences and orders.(All public information). So this is a much welcomed initiative.

However, this blog post is not to focus on the bearings of the model, but rather one concept that it suggested for considerations, which stood out for me. The model outlines a conception that there was/is a rivalry between New Zealand born Samoans and Samoans born and raised in Samoa. Having experienced this first hand, and being a Samoan born and raised in Samoa, I thought, it was an issue worth bringing to light.

My New Zealand born colleagues from across the country who attended, certainly had a lot to share about their experiences of being discriminated against simply because they were not born in their parent's country of birth. So I did a bit of research and asked some people. Most reported of discrimination which occurred mostly during times when they visited Samoa. Most pointed out that the judgement was mostly from family members residing on island and some locals who may have sniffed that they were fresh 'mosquito meat'. Reponses to queries of where they were from weren't always received well. "Oh? So you're from NZ huh?". Others reported being thrown stones at and being mocked when they decided to go for walks on the streets. Some recalled getting the complete shut down when they offered to help out with the 'umu' or other family activities. "It's ok, just go inside and leave it to us". What is really wrong about this picture (for me at least); is not so much the physical manifestations of the acts of discernment but rather the concept that another Samoan should be discriminated against simply because they were born outside of Samoa! That it was somehow their fault that their parents decided to move to NZ for better opportunities and made the cardinal sin of conceiving and giving birth to them in NZ instead of Samoa. I found this revelation quite alarming.

When NZ born Samoans travel to Samoa, it is usually for a holiday or their parents forced them to attend a cultural event -fa'alavelave. Either the funeral of someone they barely knew or the Title Bestowal ceremony for a distant relative or even their parents. Most try to make the most of the opportunity to learn more about their parent's birth country, and the country that they're so closely linked to no matter where they were born or where they lived. You see whenever a NZ born Samoan is asked for their ethnicity, they will always identify as Samoans. Not a NZ Samoan, Pacific Islander or other. It will always be - SAMOAN. There is no other category for half and halves. You are either one or another.

AFA KASI/ HALF CASTE

I cannot begin to imagine what it may be like for my fellow NZ born Samoans to go experience this ill treatment, but can understand where they are coming from. You see, the same can be said for Afa kasi or half caste Samoans, or Samoans born out of inter-racial marriages or unions, between full blooded Samoans and Europeans who first made contact with Samoa in the 18th Century. I too am a product of this half caste category of people. A term that is now considered racist in the modern world. Like my NZ born Samoan brothers and sisters, I too have experienced direct discriminating statements with reference to my racial background. "Afa kasis, they don't know the culture, they do their own thing as they please". Or one I've heard directed at my father many a times by my mothers family (in times of conflict), was "Le Afa Kasi le popoi (the rude afa kasi)". Usually these notions were directed at Afa Kasis because they tend to behave a different way and still do. If you were looking from outside the box, you would notice that this group of people, often associated with others like themselves, (mostly because there is a lot of inter-marriages within the group). Nowadays, not so much the case anymore. Most Afa Kasi, like myself, are well integrated into their Fa'a Samoa. Serving the chiefs of their families, their villages and churches in whatever way that is expected of any normal Samoan. Most of these so called 'Afa Kasi's' and I pride myself and my family on belonging to this percentage, are well versed in both worlds. Traditionally sensitive to the expectations of a much subjective culture and equally accepting of the rationale behind westernised concepts, traditions and lifestyles. We proudly walk the two worlds without fear of crossing into the other, as our Samoan lineage runs just as strong and deep as any other Samoan. Our ancestral links or gafa is as rich as it gets with links to the four pillars of Samoan royal heritage. And because we too serve our matais, villages and our families; just like any other Samoan family, we make it our business to learn our heritage and ancestral links at least five generations back. We teach our children and pass on stories of lineage links to them for their knowledge and to nourish, as our heritage is our Mea Sina/treasure. It is who we are. It is where we are from. It is our identity. Like the NZ born Samoans, we too identify as SAMOANS. Our Birth Certificates, Pass ports, and all identification boldly states that we are Samoan. Not Half Caste, Not Part German, or Part Samoan, just SAMOAN.

In saying all this, lets now turn the tables and picture this, a Samoan from Samoa arrives onto New Zealand/ Tangata Whenua land for the first time and what happens? We are called FOBS - Fresh Off The Boat, a most derogatory term, that I despise with a passion. Second to that, we are called 'Coconuts'. We meet our NZ born cousins, and well some are friendly and some are just right out standoffish and reserved. Not very hospitable and not very welcoming at all. The tension is often as thick as a loaf of bread (the tanks made in Samoa). The wayward looks are often indiscreet and without any efforts for subtlety. You read their statuses on face book referring to Samoans from Samoa as FOBS, they bloody use the term far too loosely for my liking. If you happen to work in a workplace with some, you often get questions like "Do you have any air conditioning in Samoa?", or "How come your English is good? Did you go to school in Samoa or were you education else where?". "Are you sure you're from Samoa?, Cos you sure don't sound like it". If it's within a family setting, when something goes missing, you often hear them enquire about whereabouts of the Samoan from Samoa first before anyone else. The list of examples go on and on, and on, both sides of the coin.

I say there is most certainly a rivalry between the two groups of Samoans, with the main distinction of the differences in places of birth and the environments in which the two were raised. How or when exactly did it all start? I don't have the answer to it. I do believe however, that the rivalry is not so much geographical based, but more around common human flaws. The real problem is a matter of attitudes, by way of both groups turning their 'noses down' on each other. It is a pure matter of insolence and arrogance between the two groups. One strives to outdo the other and be perceived as the better of the two. There's an unspoken unhealthy competition between the two groups. What they fail to see is that both are treating the other exactly as they do not want to be treated.

BUILD A BRIDGE

A bridge will have to be built. There's many bridges that can be constructed, and in many different ways and levels. You could start simply with yourself. As a Samoan from Samoa, I initially struggled to work in a professional environment with my NZ born Samoan colleagues. At first I could feel that unspoken tension, or was it just me? I had to ask myself to step back and look at the situation from a fresh pair of eyes. Was I perhaps carrying with me the insecurities and common assumptions of my Samoan upbringing and how NZ born Samoans were normally regarded there and thus affecting the way I interacted with them in general, and vice versa? I think my colleagues and I made the conscious effort to get to know each others' worlds from then on. And that's all there really is to it. It's about getting know the people and the person first, before the popular assumptions you're so used to take over. When you do that, you bridge that rivalry gap. You come to respect the other person sitting across from you. I most certainly learned that my NZ born Samoan colleagues, friends and relatives, could do a lot of Fa'a Samoa processes a lot better than me. Some could do the Folafolaga like it was no body's business. Others could lalaga the ie toga and cook Samoan unique dishes, things that I refuse to learn really. And together we mended the gap by sharing our knowledge, our experiences and learning with each other, weaving (or lagalaga)our own newly refined mat. A mat where discussions are open, where respect is awarded no matter where you were born, where mutual interests and va fealoai (sacred space of respectful boundaries)is practised and lineage is acknowledged and respected, no matter where you were born, or who your ancestors blood lines came from. On this mat, we are equal men and women with strong pride for their country. On this mat, we are all Samoans.

My 9 tips to keeping stress at bay!

Okay, this is not a lecture. :) I just want to share something that's helped me to kick some bad habits that were bringing me down and leading me to a harmful pattern of emotional eating as a coping mechanism!

1. No matter how much work you have to do; MAKE time for Your wellbeing, health and peace of mind. (Notice that I wrote MAKE instead of FIND time). The work will still be there tomorrow - you'll be more refreshed and stronger to tackle it then than now. An hour of your time to walk/run (whatever busts your bubble) won't hurt.

2. Surround yourself with positive, like minded people. Negativity will drag you down to the ground and do nothing to enhance your personal growth. Positive people, think positive, support you, encourage you, inspire you, make you smile and forget the worries of the world.

3. Have a little fun. Whatever you like to do. Do it! We only live once. Just make sure it's nothing illegal! Lol!

4. DO NOT procrastinate! It's a great agent for stress and unnecessary pressure! Prioritise, strategise, and get things done when they're meant to be done! Work smarter not harder!

5. Delegate! I've learned (as a mother of 5) that I can't do everything on my own! Delegate chores in your home. Delegate responsibilities - it's a great way for your teens and your husband to step up and pull their weight around the house! If they don't - hold them to it! Don't try and be a Heroine/Hero - you'll end up either hospitalised or replaced! LOL!

6. Persistency! Set goals and systems and follow it through!

7. YOU time! Make sure there's always quiet time for you! To think, to pray to be in sync with your inner souls and mind! Very soothing and therapeutic!

8. TLC - I know there's a lot of FUN you things on this List! That's the whole point! Take care of #1 first and the rest will fall through! Usually! :) My idea of TLC - girl time!! i round up my girls! My friends and cuzzies, we laugh and bitch and vent and do what girls do best - F. U. N!

9. Family! Of everything - time with my family, is priceless! Turn off your phone (I'm still learning this one), just be with them. I love my time with my kids and my mom. Hearing what the kids have to say about their day. Silently holding hands and watching TV with my husband! BLISS! That's what I try to do to stay afloat and to keep going everyday and keep stress at bay! :) Hope it helps anyone!

Reviews of a Social Butterfly!

PI don't normally do briefs. Not my style. I'm a creature of habits so this is breaking the norm. Which I've recently learned, is not a bad thing. We develop from new experiences. 

Anyway, it's been a while since my last post...NO thanks to my broadband provider, and because I've been busy with the children's school holidays, well writing had to take the back burner. Thus I'm resorting to brief accounts of events that have kept me busy and away from my ink. Besides, when you're posting from your iPhone, one must be innovative. (This is already too long).

Richard Parker Show:

I attended the Richard Parker concert with my husband and some friends two weeks ago. Richard Parker is the 'R. Kelly' or 'Brian McKnight' of Samoa. Performance - 5 stars. That deep rich voice always mets a girl's heart. And the men get extra special attention behind closed doors. Venue - nestled in the middle of the Otara Town Centre the venue has seen its fair share of publicity on violent brawls. When the show started, the VIP area became everyone's area - so Venue and security - 2. There were backup dancers on stage, which was a good change for an island concert but because it was such a small stage, the dancers were lost in the performance. I don't think anyone paid attention to their swirling. Overall I rated the event a 3 out of 5.

That's me (Tall Beyonce lol) with my friend Lizz. 

Fundraising

Prior to my Richard Parker outing, I hosted a fundraiser for my family, by bringing out my apron and capitalising on my mad cutlery skills. I've never really had much experience with fundraising until I moved to NZ. At least on a personal level. It's a huge thing for Pacific Island ethnicities. As well as Maori and European cultures. It's almost like a 'kiwi' thing! See the thing about fundraising that I've learned is this; you fundraise, you better make sure that you return the favour to those who supported you and vice versa! Failing to do so, will not go well in your favour should you have another fundraiser event! Second, if you're going to have suppers, please and I stress P L E A S E don't deliver! You end up using a good majority of your funds raised to pay for petrol. Thirdly, don't take any orders on the day! But this is hard when you're Samoan, you may end up without any clients. Samoans like to order last minute! Be honest! 

This was followed by a Social Fundraiser by one of the classes for one of my old schools - St. Joseph's College Samoa. I got to do the wanna be Beyonce on the dance floor with this beauty! 

Miss Samoa 2013:

I know that I'm not going to win any votes with this one, but hey, I'm not really one to go for the 'popular opinion'. I like to follow my instincts and listen to what my head and heart says. Regardless of the majority opinion. So family, spare me the argument! I just managed to watch the full show on DVD last week. So this subject may be a little behind in timing, but what I have to say is crucial. The crowned winner was/is stunningly beautiful. Without a doubt. However, I felt upon watching the DVD that someone else deserved the crown and title just a tad bit more. My choice for Ms Samoa, had I been invited to Judge, would have been Ms Mahealani! She was breathtakingly beautiful. She alone had a most evocative, honest and intelligent answer to her question at the interview. She didn't stumble on the way, didn't take much time to think through what she had to say and she answered with confidence and poise. A mark that we want to see on all our modern Samoan young women. Yes her talent needed a bit of work, but the message behind her story was raw and honest and something that most young Samoans can relate to but have no experience on how to express or manage - seeing as mental illness and depression is almost non-existent in the Fa'a Samoa. (Samoan Way). She would have made an outstanding role model for young modern Samoans. We need modern thinkers to move our nation forward and on bar with the rest of world. Especially where tourism is involved. (But that's another story and I don't want to piss off too many people all at once). 

Family Surprises:

I love surprises! I'm an only child. So my cousins are pretty much the closest thing I have to a sibling. Some I get along with, for some it's a struggle, and then there's a small circle of those that I've made a deep connection with, my soul mate, my doppelgänger. That person that you can tell everything and anything to... And when you're with them you can't stop talking about your lives, your thoughts, your worries and joys. The person that you want to share everything with, the one that is not afraid to scold you when you've gone astray, advise you, motivate you, and celebrate your successes and joys with you! The only one who knows all of your deep dark thoughts and secrets (because they're too much to bear on your own). The first person that you want to pick up the phone and call when you have some gossip or venting topic to discuss! That person that you could just pick up where you left off, no matter how long or how far apart you become, because there is no real distance between you but a vast ocean. That person, that I would easily and gladly call my sister any day. Well her husband must have tired of our midnight chats on viber, because he whisked her away to NZ for her 33rd Birthday and I had the most immense pleasure of celebrating with her and having some good long conversations over cocktails and even enjoyed some great nights in the City of Sails with another close sissy cuzzie of mine. Count yourself blessed if you have one of these people in your life! 

Well that's it for this social butterfly. its back to cooking dinners and making kids' lunches and getting up early for work! Love every minute of it. 

That's it for now, this iPhone post is getting way too long and I've had my first Taekwon-do class today and that was some a$$ kicking stuff! Xxx

MARRIED MEN, RE-BRANDING AND NAMES

On the second day of ‘becoming’ a blogger, I proudly shared the news to the Man I’ve been with over the past twelve years, married for ten. (The crazy love of my life).

As with any of my achievements and work, he quickly became interested in what I had to show. Excitedly, he took to the laptop.
(By the way, hubby, is no fan of online social networking sites). The internet is almost a foreign concept to him, except where sports, news and current affairs are involved of course. A man with a once promising athletic career must keep up with sports. “What’s a blog?” I did my best to muster up my most sophisticated explanation. (Because husband is a serious creature, he does not like for me or the children to waste time on meaningless nonsense). “Think of it as your own personal website where you can publish your writings on your thoughts, ideas, beliefs about various issues or even current affairs that may affect you and your community”. I left this bit last to be my climax, anything involving current affairs and the community are highly important. “Oh okay”. I started to relax a little.

“Oh, so you’re single again?” Darn. I really thought I was going to get away with it. Here we go again (sigh). We had this conversation back in 2005. When I had first started out as a journalist in 2003, we were living together, but had not married. After two years of mad attraction and love, we finally tied the knot in December 2004. My ‘by line’ had continued under my maiden name for as long as I could hold off the pressure. Having his last name hyphened next to my maiden name was/is pivotal matters to him.

It may disputably be the same for all other married men.

It is not enough that it is on our marriage certificate, it has now been incorporated on my Passport, my Driver’s License, my work identity card, my bank and credit cards (very important cards for any woman).

No it’s not enough.

It’s not enough that it is boldly displayed on my Face Book profile.
No.

A name is a married man’s mark on HIS woman. (As well as devotion, vows and all of that stuff).

It must be displayed at all times, everywhere, even on joint ownership of assets like vehicles, and homes and things like treadmills and furniture. It is very important indeed.


I’ve landed myself in a bit of a predicament. You see, as much as I love my husband, and hold very high respect and pride for his family name, (a name with much prestige and a rich cultural lineage to its existence, in its own respect), there are a few things that one must consider when ‘re-branding’ themselves.

Names are one of those things.


Rebranding is really about re-inventing yourself. I have taken a leap of faith, to reinvent my profile for the purpose of creating my blog. I simply started by labelling my profile as a Writer and a Blogger. I once read a book by a motivational speaker about reinventing your identity. That you don’t have to wait until you’ve graduated with a related degree to be something that you want. If you love to sing, then you are a singer. If you write, and love to write, then you are a writer!

But professional writers can’t have names that are too long and complicated to pronounce if you’re not Samoan. Josephine itself has nine letters. Then I have to have my maiden name. It is my identity, it is who I am, it is my father and his father and his father’s father before him, whom without their existence; I am nothing. So Nickel will have to be hyphened with Leaupepe as in “Josephine Nickel-Leaupepe”. My married name is a reminder of the promise that my husband made to me, and I to him. That he would love me and care for me for the rest of our lives together. However, there is that slight tiny little issue of just how long it seems on paper or published. Professional profiles are always short, classy and brief. Aren’t they?


I blame the 'Samoan name branding' system.


You see, when I was born my Grandfather named me ‘Siolo’, after his mother. A daughter of a warrior chief; Isamaeli Manu Samoa, from the famous mighty village of Falealili. But, my dear mother, decided to give me a second name; ‘Josephine’, the English version of ‘Sosefina’, Sose was my Great Grandmother – daughter of a high chief of the village of Vaimoso; Une Sepute. For some reason, at that time in the 80’s, having an English name for your child was an “in thing”, (at least where my mother’s circle of life existed). Most of my classmates and friends my age have English names.
So when she took to me school (Catholic girls only school), she told the school, that my English name would be used in school, and my first name, would be used at home. If you’re Samoan, this should not be news to you. It’s quite common. At least in those days. Thus, throughout my whole education, to all of my friends at school, my friends at other schools, my teachers and my friends’ parents I was Josephine Nickel. At home, the village and at church, I was Siolo. Same person, with the same names on my birth certificate, only I use the two at different places. One for home and family and the other as a professional of many things (some still to come). Awesome mom! Thinking about it now, I think it is relatively funny. (Then again, I’ve had a lot of coffee).


So naturally, I used the name that all of my external connections outside of my village and family know me by, when I wrote my first article, my ‘by line’ was Josephine Nickel. When my husband finally convinced me (after much pleasurable bribery and demands of proof of my love and commitment – MEN!) to take on his name, my professional ‘by line’ changed to Josephine Nickel-Leaupepe in March 2005 (didn't take bloody long eh). And so with the creation of this blog, we find ourselves having this disagreement again!


All of this would not have happened, if there were no such things as names.


What is a name? Why do we have names? Why aren’t we classified in a chronological sequence of numbers or codes? Or why aren’t we just people? Humans inhabiting the earth. Simply a face in the crowd. A digit on population statistics. I cannot bring myself to imagine being labelled as #334455 or something similar. It’s absurd.


The word ‘name’ itself rolls gently off the tongue and tastes soft to the lips, wrapped in a familiar warmth.


A name creates warm meaningful connections between persons. Thus names are always carefully chosen. Names bear the pride of family histories and lineages. And if you’re Samoan, names (titles) are very valuable.

The Independent, strong minded Woman in me, is a little bothered that ‘married names’ are just another way for a man to lay his claim on a woman, as if she were an object to be possessed.

But then the traitorous romantic in me, somehow finds this dazzling. The heart is a silly silly thing for a modern woman to own.

So our 'issue' has been resolved. I shall title my profile image – Josephine Nickel-Leaupepe. 

The Begining. Here we go again!

It's been a while since I last wrote something that wasn't a report to determine someone's fate in Court (I'll explain later), an email or to update a Face Book status.



In fact, it's been eight years.


So what has finally dissolved this writer's block? Restlessness to begin with.... I remember when I first started out as a junior cadet at my first journalism job with the Samoa Observer Daily Newspaper in Samoa. One of my mentors at the time had pointed out to me, "You have ink in your blood Josephine". I didn't quiet understand him at the time (I was only 21 years old). I remember thinking that it was the most sensational thing that someone had ever said about me and my writing abilities. A few months back, eight years later, I began to fully understand, more importantly, believe, what my dear old mentor had meant.


I was starting to get the itch. Thoughts were literally running through my head faster than I could comprehend them, or even remember. Ideas were flowing from my inner brain banks, (more like overflowing), but only to break into a puddle on an invisible floor in my mind. There was nothing there to capture the smooth, gentle warm lava of thoughts, words, ideas and feelings that were oozing out of me. Sleep was coming hard. My body was exhausted but my mind had far too much going on inside it's cradle of my (beautiful) head. Activity other than my normal circulation was definitely brewing in my veins. And then it dawned on me.


It is time. That time that I knew in my subconscious would be inevitable. When the ink running through my veins would finally come alive.


It has abandoned it's dormancy state, to take over Me once again. The ink and I are one, in body, soul and heart.


Somewhere, deep within the depths of my mind, I must uncover a writer that had once had so much passion for the writing arts. A writer who lived to feel the love between words and feelings. A writer with the makings of an exciting craftsmanship of expressions of the heart and mind, by spinning words with experience and imagination.


Let the journey begin, to uncovering Me. AS with any journey, there is always a Past, Present and a Future. I am excited to share and make connections through my journey with words and love. Expressing the passions of my journey from where I came from, to now, and to where I'm going. Spinning a voice to the beliefs of my heart and adding fuel to the voiceless woes of my environment and community.


Welcome to my blog. I hope you'll enjoy the ride, as much as I do.


Fa'afetai.


Josephine.