Curator Māori Moana at Pātaka Jacki Leota-Mua discusses what flowers have represented to her over her life and responds to We Are Not Your Dusky Maidens!, a series of five short films interviewing Pasifika women on the trope of the sensual ‘Dusky Maiden’ and the significance of flower culture in the Pacific Islands.
I only wear the sei on special occasions, carefully knotted behind my left ear. For anyone who knows Te Whanganui-ā-Tara Wellington, knows!
Wind matters.
I prefer fresh, not plastic. And scented.
Because fragrance matters.
When I inhale the aroma of a pua (frangipani), siale (gardenia), or moso’oi (ylang-ylang), my spirit is invigorated. The mauri life force of my very being, sparked by the scent of a beautiful blossom.
His Highness Tui Atua Tupua Tamasese Ta’isi Efi (2019) states that Sāmoans believe the soul is located between the heart and lungs. Through the breath, I know I am awakened when I see a flower. And through its fragrance, reborn, albeit fleetingly. But the moment is all I need to reconnect with the Divine.
My dilemma was that the frangipanis didn’t flourish in Wellington when I was growing up. It was too cold. We were too busy surviving.
One advantage of climate change in the northern parts of Aotearoa, at least, is the abundance of this flower today. Hybrid varieties that are bred to withstand the hardiest storms and blossom. Gardenia and sweet pea were the closest I’ve found for Wellington.
I planted gardenia in my mother’s garden during the Covid-19 lockdowns. But five years on, stray cats from our neighbourhood have taken over, and no one dares walk into the backyard anymore, except my sister, who feeds the Mumma cats and kittens. They have set up home under the porch. And from time to time, they are trapped, spayed, and rehomed by organisations like the Stray and Abandoned Cat Rescue Centre.
I asked my mother why she never wore the sei.
She said, ‘I was a bus driver.’ ‘A caregiver.’ ‘Wore uniforms.’ ‘Glasses.’ Sweated. Worked.’ (I was secretly glad she never conformed).
Twice, she grew moana flowers. In pots. Indoors. hibiscus, cut from extended family gardens in kawakawa (where it was warm). They grew and grew. Taller than the smallest Gordon Wilson flat on The Terrace, so high, with its dazzling array of colours, so bright!
They are still growing strong.
In remembrance of home, long ago in her mother’s village of Salamumu (Upolu) she recalls how the young (untitled) men would adorn themselves with a red hibiscus when carving up the flesh of a partly cooked pig. Apportioned ritually, the divisions were divided and given to various members of the Sāmoan community depending on their rank (Hiroa 1930, cited by Hillyer 2022).
It seems males dynamically wear flowers, too. And whilst pigs are prized. Wild boars are not. Considered pests, they run rampant in Fiji bush; my late Rotuman stepfather wanted a gun license to kill them. He was mostly a peace-loving farmer otherwise and planted sweet pea flowers in my husband’s farm at Natovi.
It’s been a year since his passing. There is nothing there except bees nesting in the cavity of the roof nearby, waiting. The old man planted many varieties of pawpaw, too, the fruit of angels (as reputedly described by Christopher Columbus), and frangipani from seeds and cuttings garnered from Papua New Guinea.
I have never seen such beautiful pua in all my life before living in Lae, in the Morobe Province of Papua New Guinea. The deepest red, smouldering purples, and a hundred varieties of pink, yellow, and white. In the compound at 8 Mile, large trees, planted years ago, have taken root near life-giving waterways. They are a commanding presence with their sinuous limbs covered in moss. Blossoms fall languidly, cloaking Mother Earth in splendour.
At last! I thought. The language of flowers that I had longed for was finally taking root in my brain. I had been living too long in the grey, cemented cities of New Zealand, and the metaphors I had been missing began to gel.
Pua frangipani are majestic. They are my favourite flower. Gill (1876) describes the tree in Tahiti as ‘mythical.’ The blossom, when ordered as an ‘ei, lei, head or neck adornment, attracts the gods and brings life. But its branches are a harbinger of death. Said to aid in latching onto souls to show them the path to Hawaiki and the underworld to reunite with ancestors. This explains why the graves of early missionaries, wives, and children in Papua New Guinea were marked by a frangipani tree.
In returning to Aotearoa, I have realised that pua are also important here. From artist Hemi Macgregor, I learnt about puawānanga (Clematis paniculata). A flower of learning and spring. With medicinal uses, the light yellow, star-shaped, fragrant flower is a taonga in mātauranga Māori.
With unisex or dioecious vines, the species have separate male and female elements that recast the gendered ‘dusky maiden’ trope so prevalent in the Western world, into the paradoxical realm of the fabulous and fantastical.
In reclaiming our representation, I celebrate the diverse stories shared in these videos. In voicing our experiences and love for the luminous flowers of our Moana homes, we unite.
Dusky and divine. Black, brown, and beautiful. Afakasi, half-caste, or hybrid. Maidens, mothers, matriarchs, makers, men, mahu (Hawai‘i/Tahiti), Vaka salewalewa (Fiji), Palopa (Papua New Guinea), Fa‘afafine Sāmoa), Akava’ine (Rarotonga), Fakaleiti (Tonga), Fakafifine (Niue). MVPFAFF+, workers, widow/ers, we are never too old, or too young, to catch the spirit of flowers. For there is much more to learn from the metaphors hidden in their songs, chants, lullabies, ballads, hymns, and hakas. So:
Fuck the colonisers!
Note: I think the Thomas Andrew images are beautiful. I would have loved to have a picture of my great, great-grandmother from the period.
References
- Gill, WW. Myths and songs from the South Pacific. Oxford University Press (1876)
- Case: Food in Sāmoa – Food Studies: Matter, Meaning, Movement, Garrett Hillyer (2022)
- Podcast: In Search Of Fragrance: Tui Atua Tupua, Podcasts • Auckland Writers Festival (2019)
- Hemi Macgregor, Waiora at Pātaka (2025–2026)
- Watch We Are Not Your Dusky Maidens!
Watch We Are Not Your Dusky Maidens!
Watch the five interviews with Pacific women on the trope of the sensual ‘dusky maiden’ and the significance of flower culture in the Pacific Islands. Then read about how the project came about, and responses to the videos from four Pacific women in the arts.
Jacki Leota-Mua
Jacki Leota-Mua (Aotearoa-born Sāmoan [whangai Salamumu, Upolu, Avao Savai’i] of mixed heritage) is Curator Māori Moana at Pātaka and has lived and worked in the Pacific region for over 15 years. She is a community organiser, educator, and cultural producer, and within the museum sector has served in public programming, collection management, and curation roles at Te Papa Tongarewa and the Waikato Museum of Art + Culture before joining the team at Pātaka in October 2022. She has collaborated with artists, activists, and civil society organisations on many projects over the years and dedicates much of her spare time to grandchildren/mokos/pikinini’s: Amaziah, and Vini, and Zion Henry.
