Bulibasha by Ihimaera Witi

Author:Ihimaera, Witi
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781742288109
Publisher: Penguin New Zealand
Published: 2013-10-25T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 35

Aunt Sarah had the Mahana haka team practising right up to the hour before the finals.

‘Good,’ she would say during rehearsals, ‘but not good enough.’

Again and again she drove us through our new entrance and the new action song. She had fallen in love with the tune I’d composed for it, and she’d pulled out all the stops to create the appropriate words and actions.

‘This is a gutsy composition,’ she admonished. ‘I want you all to put some guts into it. Come on, girls! Never mind about trying to look pretty. Get into it!’

I thought we had a smash hit on our hands. By the time we arrived at the Gisborne Opera House, we were ready to go for gold.

‘We’re on last,’ Aunt Sarah announced. ‘Ka pai! And guess what? Hukareka’s on first!’ She was triumphant. Now we’d be able to watch everyone else and tailor our performance accordingly. And the judges would have forgotten Hukareka by the time we’d finished. She bustled us backstage so that we could change into our costumes and queue up for Uncle Matiu to paint moko on us. Aunt Sarah hid the cloaks so that none of our competitors would see them until we emerged, resplendent. Then we went up into the balcony to join the other performers.

The view of the stage from the balcony was gorgeous. Flowers decorated the apron and sides. The Apirana Ngata Shield and Heni Materoa Cup dazzled in silver glory. The audience was dressed up to the nines. The men were wearing suits or sports jackets; the women were elegant in black, and some were wearing fake fur. The kuia were stunning with their greenstone earrings and pendants. The older ones had chiselled moko.

The lights dimmed. The compere came out. He was dressed in a tuxedo, and the audience whistled. He went offstage and came on again for another whistle. How we all laughed! Then he whistled at us.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said, ‘from here you all look fabulous. Not a black singlet or pair of gumboots in sight. Sorry, Auntie Mary, I didn’t see you out there! Seriously folks, you look proud, beautiful and dignified. Yes, even you Auntie Mary. You all lend lustre to this occasion. For tonight we are going to witness the very best of our performing arts.’

We all started to preen.

In the distance I saw Poppy sitting with the Hukareka girls. She was vivacious in her black and white costume, her long hair curling on her shoulders. Her lips had been darkened and a moko applied to her chin. She looked like the daughter of a Renaissance prince. My heart gave a lurch –

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