Tagata Pasifika Producer and SunPix Director Ngaire Fuata reflects on Pacific identity and community resilience in challenging times.
Noa‘ia ‘e mạuri
As my husband and I walked to Pasifika Day at Western Springs, we bumped into my friend and former colleague, Adrian Stevanon. He hopped out of the car with his two daughters and, with a grin, said, “Every day it’s Pasifika in our house, but my girls wanted to go to this.”
That simple statement got me thinking about how important this event truly is—especially now, when times are tough for so many. Whether you live Pasifika every day or not, the Pasifika Festival is a unique moment where you get to immerse yourself in a vibrant sea of Pacific culture.
This year, Tagata Pasifika faced a significant funding cut—nearly $1 million—which means we’re not back on air until Saturday, March 22. With just 30 episodes planned, it’ll be a much shorter season than usual. It’s disappointing, but we’re not alone—across the industry and beyond, so many have felt the sting of budget cuts.
Yet, the upside of not being on air just yet is that this year I got to attend the festival in person. Tagata Pasifika turns 38 this year and we’ve covered the event since its inception. We’ve also been LIVE to air on Saturday mornings for the most part, and I’ve been working those Saturdays — crossing live to the event therefore not being a festival participant.
As we wandered through the festival, the warm, sunny morning didn’t feel as busy as I’d expected, but the atmosphere was still alive with pride and celebration. The powerful rhythm of Cook Islands drums echoed in the distance as we strolled through the Tongan stage, where a brass band played and a fine-motu’a was dancing with graceful joy. We moved through the Melanesian area, grabbing a Fijian curry while a Tuvaluan group performed, then onwards to the Māori and Samoan stages.
Everywhere we went, we bumped into familiar faces—friends we hadn’t seen in ages and others we instinctively knew would be there. Camera crews were capturing the vibrancy, while politicians Hon Carmel Sepuloni, Hon Jenny Salesa, and Lemauga Lydia Sosene, distinct in their red attire, made their way through the crowds. Tourists and locals alike soaked up the performances, delicious food, and undeniable pride in our culture.
We left just before the rain arrived, and to complete our culturally rich day, we stopped at St Lukes to watch Tinā before making our way home.
In moments like these, despite the challenges we face, I’m reminded of the strength and resilience of our Pacific communities. Events like Pasifika Day are more than just celebrations—they’re affirmations of identity, pride, and belonging.
Fạiȧkse‘ea ma ạlalum
