Hana followed the lady as she limped through the marae gate. The roof was slanted over it, ending in an apex at the top. Intricate carvings and painted designs covered the underside and Phoenix looked up at the lines and patterns denoting something important. The green and turquoise colours of paua shell were dotted around, glinting in the light from their position hammered into the wood. Hana emerged into a huge concrete courtyard.
On two sides were seating areas where guests and tribal members would sit facing one another during a hui or powhiri. Hana had been to a few of each at Logan’s marae on the outskirts of the township. They were long affairs where representatives from both sides conducted eloquent speeches in their native tongue. She had heard her husband’s mihi numerous times a
