a story of colonisation ~ ‘imagine this’:

Sitting quietly watching a bit of TV on a Sunday avo, having finished the dishes and washing, and the lawns and gardening … time for a beer and a feet up.

Theres a knock at the door and upon answering it you find the family that lives 4 doors down, on your doorstep. Enquiring if they’re alright, as they appear a little disheveled, you hear that they have just been moved out of their abode. A little surprised you invite them in and offer them a coffee, getting ready to hear in great detail the escapade that is eviction.

A couple of hours later, you decipher that the family hadn’t exactly been evicted but had left because the house had become overcrowded. They are now asking if they can stay for a couple of nights until they can find alternative accommodation. You look around at the family of 6 (2 parents and 4 kids, aged from 2 to 15). Feeling slightly overwhelmed, but feeling for them, and knowing that it will only be for a couple of nights; you have an in-depth discussion about what they will do during the 2 days, when they will leave, what they will put into the house while they are here, where they will sleep etc.

With everything seemingly sorted, you show them the downstairs ‘sleep out’ you have, for when family come. They seem grateful and appreciative and promise they’ll be considerate of the space. They make themselves comfortable.

Day one rolls by.

Day two rolls by.

There’s been no movement in the sleep out and you go to check what the haps is. It’s then that you notice the family of 6 has increased to the family of 12. What happened you ask? Apparently the other family members had heard that there was a welcoming abode 4 doors down and had come to stay as well, just for a couple of days.

You say that it’s not really the dilly and they should have asked first; they apologise. 2 more days ONLY you say.

You are awoken by a huge commotion in the early hours of the following morning and when you get up from your slumber to check whats going on, you are greeted by the family of 12, and their friends. Apologising for the noise they state that they were hungry and thought you wouldn’t mind if they helped themselves to a feed, that they’d clean up and make themselves scarce very shortly. You protest and tell them they need to hurry up and that tomorrow they’d have to find themselves somewhere else to stay as this was becoming too much for you.

730am, you’re getting your rather tired ass ready for work, and father of original family of 6 calls you into your lounge. Waiting for you are the origin family of 6, the add-on 6 and their friends, and their families. They ask you to sit down because they would like to talk.

Thinking, ‘fucken ay, finally they’re leaving and they want to thank me for my hospitality’, you sit your ass down and gather your senses as the room goes silent.

Mother of the original family of 6 gets up, clears her throat and speaks.

“It has come to our attention that you have been complaining about our conduct. Need we remind you that there are more of us than there is, you”

….Hang on a minute….

“Because we are growing in numbers here we think that it is only fair that you take the spare room now and we use the rest of the facilities, including the kitchen, dinning and outdoor spaces. You are welcome to utilise these but it will be under strict supervision and we’ve put rules in place now to safe guard us all”

….ahhh, this is a joke right….

“So with that said, we’d like to know what you think”

So you get up, and state the obvious.

“This is MY home, I took you (the 6 of you) in for 2 days on the understanding that you would find alternative accommodation within that time. You have taken my hospitality for granted and have abused every kindness shown to you. You are now trying to dictate what happens in MY home. You all need to pack up and leave NOW. You have 5 minutes before I ring the police”

Then the father of the original 6 gets up with about 5 other men and says:

“You need to move on, the agreement we had originally doesn’t suit us anymore. This is how it is now. We won’t be leaving and it is unfair to expect us too as there is more of us than there is you. Ring the police, they won’t believe you anyway. Who in their right mind would let a family of 6 plus stay in their home right? We are here now, deal with it and stop bitching on about the past”

…Oh my fuck, you have got to be joking…

So, you ring the police, they show up and sure enough, even though you have all the documentation stating that this is indeed your home, they are inclined to note that the majority rules. They tell you to let it go, and if you don’t like it, find somewhere else to live.

So, next, against all advise, you lay a complaint with the police and file for a trespass notice on the 6 plus family and friends from 4 doors down who have occupied your space. There is a hearing set and its in 6 months from now. You state that is too long to wait, but they tell you … ‘tough shit, 6 months it is’. Six months roll past, you get to the hearing and your told it has been delayed for another 6 months as there are more pressing matters that need to be dealt with else where … apparently there are ducks crossing the motor way and shit and yeah, come back. You complain again, and are told again, ‘tough shit, see you in 6 months’.

12 months later, your house is completely overtaken; the 6 plus original family from 4 doors down have renovated, expanded and are planning on digging up the back lawn for a ‘decorative feature’ relating to their heritage. You complain bitterly, and they concede and note that you can have a small plaque at the bottom of said decorative feature. Just so future generations know you were there.

This is getting fucking ridiculous you decide, and as you head into the hearing after 12 months and are greeted with another delay, you decide more aggressive moves should be taken to get rid of this lot out of YOUR home.

You buy yourself a semi automatic and head home; you know that place where just over a year ago, you were quietly sitting, having a beer, minding your own business and watching a little television.

You kick the door in, semi automatic pointed straight ahead. It’s occupants look somewhat startled, but don’t move. In a loud fuck off voice, you order them to get the fuck out of YOUR house. They don’t blink, instead father of 6 family gets up and says, in a quiet, slightly patronising tone:

“Why the hostility? We’ve made your house better than it was? We’ve added on and extended its value? We’ve let you stay here and we even gave you a plaque. You really need to stop being so angry and definitely not be so aggressive, you know its unbecoming. We said you could stay, but you really need to let this go … it doesn’t make for very good living ‘relations'”

And as the frustration builds and the indignant ‘oh you’ve got to be fucken kidding me’ tightens in your chest … you can see you popping a cap in all their asses … some cunt has rung the police, and as you turn around there are a multitude of guns pointing at you and they tell you to hit the floor.

And as your being carted off in a paddy wagon, your told you are being arrested under the anti-terrorism act. When you get to the police station you are given a speech about your kind being ungrateful and inconsiderate; about how you should have embraced the people around you and done things their way more often and maybe you wouldn’t be in this position; about how pent-up aggression can do you more harm than good; about how you should have just let it go; how the consequences of your actions would cost you dearly.

Really??? you think … more than what its cost you so far?

Sitting in your cell after court, and knowing you’ve got at least 15 – 20 years inside, you wonder, what the fuck happened???

Moral of the story …

Don’t answer the fucken door on a Sunday afternoon!

*And that right there is the arrogance of colonisation at its finest*


kpm ©


 

Video

heres why:

My experience as a ‘Person of Colour’ (which is apparently the New Politically Correct terminology to use when referring to my ‘shade’) in ‘New Zealand, is not an unusual experience.

Those of my ancestors that sailed here from the Pacific Islands, set up shop along the east coast shorelines and the westcoast shorelines. My Indigenous ancestry comes from both sides of my parentage.

I am not Black. I do not have the same history as Persons of Colour within the Americas, Native or Stolen.

I am not a descendant from an African continent, with a history of ancestors who have been stolen, sold and bought.  My history with the coloniser is closer to that of the Indigenous from the Americas and other ‘coloured’ continents. In my opinion, while the Blacks in the Americas also have a relationship similar to what we have; it is not the same. Their oppression and response has an added layer of fuckery which comes from being stolen From their roots, as opposed to having their roots removed from them slowly over the course of time.

In this country the prison population is predominantly Maori (tangata whenua), for both male and female. It has always pissed Me off and within my studies, been a topic of interest.

These ‘over – representations’ are labelled as such, by those that came here without any knowledge of who we were. They went about having an opinion on what and who we were. Two of the myths used to build a lie into a stereotype view are;

a. We were a warrior people

b. We were native, unintelligent savages.

It is at the very base of it all, that these little stereotypes have caused some deep seated fuckery within our world. It’s these little fuckers which lead to the arrogance which presumes we can’t learn adequately; we can’t get gainful employment; we need assistance to maintain any and all types of mental and physical health; our ‘families’ are dysfunctional.

It is with the repertoire of twoddle that the Crown sets about setting up ‘help’ or assistance for the culturally deprived. Because apparently We need their assistance.

But they presumed we were like them. That our way of being was inferior to theirs because it was different from theirs. In my opinion, our way of being was far superior to their diseased and deeply infested way of being.

I wonder though; how much assistance do We need from an entity that fucked Us over in the first place?

And this seems to be a point that I can fight tooth and nail for and it still falls on deaf ears.

If this was an abusive relationship, We would be advised to ditch his ass and get some counselling and move the fuck on.

But in this scenario We are encouraged to access their ‘assistance’, their education, their ‘help’ and are disparaged when we refuse; and locked up when we don’t comply. It seems to be a huge old blind spot that the coloniser and colonised do not understand.

And I wonder at this point, if:

Being ‘White’ is more a state of mind. If that blind spot is what brought them here in the first place. If that arrogance is what keeps them believing they are far superior and need to assist the inferior natives.

Fuck That! There’ll be No conceding from this Camp any time soon!

Moana Jackson asks some pertinent questions in the following video: the most pertinent being:

“Why did Maori never have prisons?”

He addresses the lies that have been told, believed and are continuously perpetuated to keep a system in place that does not work for Us.

(video not owned my me)

kpm ©