Wairoa Te Ūkaipō – The Homeland is a play written by Hone Kouka first staged in the 1990s and now returning as part of Auckland Theatre Company’s 2026 season.
Set on a beach near a small South Island settlement sometime in 1965 a Māori family is preparing a hangi to celebrate the 18th birthday of Rongo, one of the children.
The party consists of parents Wai and Hone, their other daughter Amiria, adopted son Boyboy, and Louise the local Pakeha school teacher and friend to Wai. Coming a little later to the party is Hone’s boss Steve.
As the story progresses we learn that the whānau are strangers in this place having moved from the East Cape of the North Island. Rongo has a strong sense of disconnection and sees visions of various local Tīpuna who do not welcome the family.
We also witness the particular challenge of Hone – a father vehemently reluctant to pass on his cultural heritage and language due to fear of ridicule and loss of opportunity for his tamariki in a country dominated by Pakeha hostile to Māori ways.
His conformity and obsequience to that dominant culture and his bland acceptance of the casual racism displayed by his white neighbours and even his supposedly tolerant boss has left him angry and embittered. This anger is internalised yet also unleashed frequently on Boyboy and apparently his now absent son Mahurangi who left due to his father’s abuse.
This is a deceptively simple and clever story. We are lured into what appears to be a typical family gathering whose members are determined to have a special day. Yet early on there are some ominous signs that all is not well. The family are constantly observed, followed, and sometimes sabotaged by the presence of the spirits. Tensions rise between the family and resentments quickly surface.
It is also a very well performed play. There are some beautiful moments of singing, including a stunning rendition of a waiata by Tioreore Ngatai-Melbourne. Each of the actors create characters who are complex and powerful.
There are two stand out moments in this play – the first is an incredible scene where Te Mihi Potae as Boyboy stands up to his father and gives an intensely emotional and riveting explanation of why he has been expelled from school. The second concerns Hone’s final realisation of what is going on and he performs a fiery haka directed at the Tīpuna. It is an extraordinary moment full of raw emotion, anger, and strength.
This play operates at two levels – the intimacy of a family with a myriad of unresolved issues, and secondly the position of that family in a country still not coming to terms with the effects of colonisation. The two cannot be seen in isolation. While all families have issues, this Māori whānau is literally dealing with a long and bloody history that has left them doubting who they are and where they belong.
The presence of the two Pakeha neighbours shows us exactly where the power balance is in this mid 60s New Zealand. They may think they are tolerant and supportive of their Māori neighbours, but there is no way they can truly understand what has happened to these people.
This is illustrated very well in various interactions which to a contemporary audience and particularly for us Pakeha are cringe worthy now, such as when Steve gives an incredibly inappropriate present to Rongo or tells Hone how the white man has civilised the country and Māori should be grateful.
It is tempting and possibly reassuring for non Māori to think those attitudes and their effects are long in the past, yet, if we are honest with ourselves, we know that is not true.
Wairoa Te Ūkaipō is not a nostalgic piece of theatre – it is powerful, searing, eye-opening and very relevant to our current times.
WAIROA TE ŪKAIPŌ – THE HOMELAND
6-22 March 2026
ASB Waterfront Theatre – Auckland
Cast
Anatonio Te Maioha – Tīpuna
Erina Daniels – Sue/Wai Te Atatu
Regan Taylor – John/Hone
Rongopai Tickell – Amiria
Tioreore Ngatai-Melbourne – Rongo
Te Mihi Potae – Boyboy
Awerangi Thompson – Tīpuna
Mathieu Boynton-Rata – Tīpuna
Huia Rawiri – Tīpuna
Mycah Keall – Louise Stones
Ben Ashby – Steve Campbell