'I had a better upbringing in jail than I did with my family,' says former Black Power leader

Friday, 7 January 2022

Tauiwarau Mātene has lived a tough life, abused at a young age, along with a criminal past and many stints in jail. In his own words, he shares his story so far.

People try and find a way out, from their past. Some go home, to their roots. But some don’t. You see them, they walk around and around the street. It’s because things happened to them. Bad things, stupid things.

I was born in 1958, in Kaikohe, Ngā Puhi: Hone Heke territory. I grew up speaking te reo Māori, the Pākeha world was confusing.

I didn’t go to school. I learned all my education in jail. I learned how to read and write; I had a better upbringing in jail than I did with my family.

**READ MORE:

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**

There were evil b……. in my family. There was sexual abuse, and we got beatings for nothing. “You pick the watercress like this, or you’ll get a hiding like this.”

My uncles were big men. Look at me: I’m big, huge. They were bigger than me. Look at my hands, imagine what my uncles’ hands were like, three times bigger than mine. They’d pick you and throw you around. They were fast, they could run, they could beat you up.

The only way you could avoid that abuse was to leave. We would run away, stay in the bush for days, lots of us kids.

I left as soon as I could. The abuse chased a lot of us away from the North Island, chased us to the cities and that made it worse. I went back and forth, Auckland, Whangārei, and home. I wasn’t steady. None of us were. I got jobs from 14, because of my height they thought I was older.

I joined Black Power at 17. My cousin, he came along one day and that was it, I got a patch. My cousin knew what I was like and what I could do: hunt, fight do everything, anything.

I was skinny as, tall, handsome and could fight. I had authority. I moved up through the ranks and nobody could beat me. I took on the best, took hidings from the best.

The gang was family. For our lot, from the far north, we knew each other. We knew what had happened to us. We didn’t talk about it. You had to be a man, man up.

A lot of us wanted revenge. The old people were slowly dying, but we wanted them to die faster.

I went back to confront them. They were old and frail. I didn’t care. They didn’t care when we were vulnerable; now they’re vulnerable.

I beat a couple of them up, but it didn’t feel good. I wasn’t satisfied. They took 30 years away from us; my generation, my life.

I first went to jail in 1978. I’ve done a lifetime in jail. I’ve done a six, I’ve done a five, I’ve done a four, I’ve done a three, I’ve done a two. When you add that up, it’s a lot of years wasted.

I met the best and worst criminals in the world in jail. Some of them are evil, some of them are not bad, some of them were criminals. Some became teachers; they taught me about reality of Māori life, expectations of myself. They taught me, don’t think you’re higher and mightier than anyone else: even the smallest man can put you on the ground.

I was a teacher, too. I taught Māori, and kapa haka. I taught them how to do the haka; I beat them up if they didn’t do it properly.

I was in Lake Alice for three months. They couldn’t control me in Wanganui Prison, I was out of control. I lost my way there for a while. After Lake Alice, I went back to jail, settled down, never went back.

I woke up one day in jail… I had 15 gang members, all doing big legs, I was doing six. I looked out the door and I thought to myself, what a waste. I looked at myself and started to cry. I shouldn’t be here, I thought.

When I got out of jail that was the end of Black Power.

I moved to Nelson 32 years ago, I worked as a fisherman. My brother told me I'd get eaten by a taniwha. But the sea is a spiritual place, water washes stuff away. I figure, everything gets washed away, but it must be washed away slowly.

No, I haven't stayed out of trouble. It's bloody hard to stay on track. I’ve got quite a few convictions; a whole f…… page full. I don’t show many people.

I have arguments, I have big fights with council. Once, I wanted to trim the branches of the tree outside my house. They told me I couldn’t touch it.

I went to the council with an axe, they locked the front door. The police told me I was trespassed; they took my axe. I wanted to smash down that door. I almost went to jail for that.

I want to get my story out there, tell people about the abuse. It happened; it’s still happening.

My brother was the worst, he holds bad memories. He comes home and I say, “you’ve got to talk to those fullas in the dirt at the urupā (cemetery), they did all that s…, go and stomp on them”. They’re dead and buried, but he still brings the past up, so do I.

I can’t change the past: the gang, the violence, I don’t feel sorry about it and I don’t regret it. Saying sorry doesn’t mean jack s… to me, or you, or anybody else.

Leave the past alone, get on with the future. See your kids? They’re the future, we’ve got to look after them now.

- As told to Amy Ridout

Where to get help:

• Rape Crisis 0800 88 33 00, click link for local helplines.

• Safe to talk: a 24/7 confidential helpline** *0800 842 846, text 4334, webchat* safetotalk.nz or email support@safetotalk.nz.**

• The Harbour Online support and information for people affected by sexual abuse.

• Women’s Refuge 0800 733 843 (females only)

• Male Survivors Aotearoa Helplines across NZ, click to find out more (males only).

• If you or someone else is in immediate danger, call 111.

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