Niue

I’m guessing Niue is place most of us don’t think about often. A small (population is under 2000) island in free association with New Zealand, closest to Tonga, Samoa and the Cook Islands. Think about it now.

While this year Constitution Day celebrations are happening on 16 and 17 October, I’m writing this to mark the anniversary of the new constitution.

Okay. So people arrived in Niue from Samoa around 900 CE. About six hundred years later more settlers came from Tonga. So far, strictly Polynesian. During this time—until the early 1700s—there wasn’t really a national government. Chiefs and heads of families controlled things. But since there was influence from both Samoa and Tonga established, kingship was introduced into the mix. The first king of Niue was Puni-mata.

Contact with the wider world? Well, this is Oceania, and so James Cook can be credited with the first European sighting of Niue. He tried to land there—three times—but the Niueans refused him. Oh, and Cook called the island “Savage Island,” the name that stuck until relatively recently when the original name Niue became known on the world stage.

Now this is Oceania, so where discoverers… discovered… it is inevitable that sometime soon after missionaries much follow. Yes, the London Missionary Society agrees with me, and some missionaries showed up in Niue in 1846. And, yes, after a few years Christianity had spread. Way to proselytise.

And where did the British empire come in? King Fata-a-iki, who reigned from 1887 to 1896, was worried about the colonising spirit of the times, and offered sovereignty to the British in 1887, judging them more benevolent than many other colonial powers. It took till 1900, but soon the island was a British protectorate—for a year. In 1901 New Zealand annexed the island. And then 1974 saw self-government.

Something you probably didn’t know? Niue is one of the world’s largest coral islands. Also—weird fact—apparently the soil in Niue is really unusual, geochemically speaking. The soil has a “surprisingly high” level of natural radioactivity—no uranium, but some other radionucleides. Now apparently this kind of distribution happens on very deep seabeds and the theory goes that a combination of extreme weathering of the coral and a short-lived submergence in the sea 120,000 years ago caused this. That’s so interesting. Oh, and there’s been no evidence of ill-effects health-wise in the local population.

Today’s poem is actually a segment of a longer work by John Pule, who is considered to be Niue’s most important writer and artist. It comes from Nuanua: Pacific Writing in English Since 1980.


from The Shark that Ate the Sun

Earth. Time’s curfew desires only our attention
the landscape mirrors another reflection of
the other sorrow known on earth as life

the ocean is left behind as we walk to a dream
war is not known on earth but in the isolated
image human beings once ran naked in caves
carved out a history of a new birth
embellishing art to become blood and beauty
when mysteries poked at our brain, leaving holes,
and we dropped whatever we had in our hearts to
look at each other in amazement, and whoever possessed
the desire to live forever will never die, but we die, and suffer,
and the shock has long been forgotten
because the word death is only a gossip

and not when we carelessly describe to our
children how we love on earth, which ceases to
fascinate, and falls about our bodies like confetti

and standing naked to surmise a tranquil field
a city appeared to haunt the waterhole where
animals browse and drink. Years later
the remains of that lone figure are dug up
the position odd, the hands covered the eyes as if to
hide from some horrific vision, maybe a
revelation of what was seen is what we now live in
did the vision kill whatever his name and tribe is
staring out over the tranquil field?

the question glittered as centuries battled
in iron and the rain washed the blood away to
settle in small dark cities, which we tasted and
the smell caused a strange evolution to take
place in our emotions, and the change dressed
us in miraculous nights, the stars challenged
our answers

if they could glimpse into this present day
they would die in the presence of hate and emotion
that sleeps in every country

we contemplate distant illuminations,
yet the difficulty remains in
recognizing the true human
which is a dream the firstborn forgot and hopes
this earth will never feel

goodbye, said the captain. Goodbye, said the islander.
Next time test in your own country
perhaps New York or Paris

—John Pule
from Nuanua: Pacific Writing in English Since 1980