Can Our Tears Clean the Aquifer?
Art and description by Makaiwa Kanui
It's undeniable that as Kanaka ʻŌiwi we are tied to our ʻāina. When one part of the body suffers we all suffer. It grieves us in ways we don't fully understand. Our bodies reflect the bodies of ʻāina and wai that sustain us. Our spirit laments, as our minds do our best to understand, adapt, resist, and fight for those we love. We do not lack injustices, rampant in our homelands. We are tired. Yet we push, and push, and do what we can to hold on to what we have left.
Following the major fuel leak by the US Navy in November 2021, I flew to Oʻahu and visited my close friend Dani Espiritu, a kupa ʻāina of Waimalu, Ewa. I came to sit, listen, and pray for the land that raised her, and whom she dearly loves. As I sat with Dani on the grassy slopes outside of Keaiwa heiau, she turns to me and says:
"I feel like my home is dying."
Those words felt deep in my naʻau, as I realized that my friend is dying too. The birds, plants beings, and fish beings poisoned, betrayed, and slowly perishing. They are our relatives too.
In my spirit, I asked, “Can these tears clean the aquifers?” A question, a prayer, and a plea. Just beyond the trees ahead, overlooking Puʻuloa, we sat there in tears as military jets flew overhead nearby. Our tears as intercession lifted up, and yet streaming down into the soil, somehow seeping to the water contaminated by humans who forgot our ancestral ties to wai. 'O wai 'oe? You are water, you come from water, sustained by water.
Will we choose to remember our identity as dependent children of the land and waters?
As we remember this sacred relationship we have with wai, it does something in us. The wai in us can change, cleanse, and when granted, it flows. Our tears made of wai and paʻakai is medicine, ceremonial elements that restores, cleans, and purifies. I believe our tears, when given the space, can become nests for healing, and connect us to the family of creation, and the circles of life. Sacred tears as our hoʻokupu, sometimes that's all we have left to hold on to. Sometimes that's all we have to give.
Read more about this artwork and Makaiwa on the Hawaiʻi Conference United Church of Christ’s website here, originally published in The Friend, February 2023.
About Makaiwa Kanui
My name is Makaiwa Kanui. I was born in Hilo, raised in Mauna Huʻihuʻi (Mt.View), Olaʻa. I currently live in Panaʻewa with my partner Maikaʻi, and our two wild boys Kauila and ʻEkemana. Mauna Kea is my mountain, Waiʻolena is my beach, and the Kanilehua and Loloku rains sustain me.
I am who I am because of the family, community, and lands that raised me and continues to nurture me. I come from a family of fish merchants, and was raised cleaning, and preparing fish for the local community, my parents continue to do this today. In my formative years of life I attended Hawaiian Immersion schools. Later graduating from Kamehameha Schools, I pursued my Bachelors degree in Studio Art, and a minor in Ethnic Studies from Mills College in Oakland, California in Ohlone Territory. I serve as a campus minister and justice programs coordinator. I embrace being a musician, competitive powerlifter, and an artist! I have a dream of owning my own art studio one day. I’m passionate about justice. Hawaiʻi raised and sustained me, and I seek to live in a co-sustaining, interconnected relationship with my homelands, myself, my family, and my Creator. I’m always being pulled in different directions, but art and music has been a constant thread in my life to respond to the world around me. Mahalo for taking the time to learn more about me. ʻOia!
See more from Makaiwa at:
makaiwakanui.com
Instagram: @mau.a.maui
Learn more about the efforts to shut down the Red Hill fuel tanks and stay in the know:
Sierra Club of Hawaiʻi
Oʻahu Water Protectors
Kaʻohewai
Kanaeokana
Shut Down Red Hill Mutual Aid