An iwi-led conservation movement is reshaping the Kaimai Mamaku landscape, blending mātauranga Māori (traditional Māori knowledge) with ecological science to restore the mauri (life force) of the forest.
The Manaaki Kaimai Mamaku Trust (MKMT) oversees eight iwi-led projects across the Kaimai Range, aiming to combat predator pressure, habitat degradation and cultural disconnection.
MKMT engagement manager Rebecca Lee said a typical day for a trapper in one of the projects involved getting up at 5.30am and hiking 10km to empty, service and rebait traps, five days a week.
“Every night, it’s estimated that 68,000 birds are killed by introduced predators. Bay of Plenty conservation groups have removed more than the same amount of predators through trapping alone.”
Otawa Waitaha a Hei, the conservation project of Te Kapu ō Waitaha, covers 550 hectares and reconnects whānau (family) to whenua (land) and is revitalising native ecosystems for future generations.
A team effort: Ted Whare, Rebecca Lee, Marereia Tua, 12, and Watana Williams.
Three generations
The group comprises three generations working to restore the mauri of their traditional lands, Otanewainuku-Otawa.
According to data recorded by 120 Bay of Plenty conservation groups for Toi Moana Bay of Plenty Regional Council, an estimated 64,000 introduced predators have been killed this year through trapping efforts.
Waitaha had removed 2205 of those predators through trapping, including possums, mustelids (ferrets, stoats and weasels) and rats.
So far this year, more than 7455 hours have been spent by Waitaha group members on conservation work in the area.
While the project aimed to eradicate predators to bring back taonga (treasures) like the Hochstetter’s frog, general manager Ray Wahipi said the kaupapa (initiative) was much more than that.
“Anything that’s adding to the life of our taiao [natural world] is adding to our future generations.
“It’s for our mokopuna [grandchildren]. A rākau [tree] planted today, a rat trapped today, we won’t see the benefits. But they will. That’s our legacy.
“Our tūpuna [ancestors] lived, hunted, prayed and made agreements here. The ngāhere [forest] is not just a resource – it’s whanaungatanga [connection].”
Marereia Tua, 12, with a predator trap. Photo / Brydie Thompson
Reconnecting with the land
Project manager Luke Whareaorere said the group had 25 generations of connection to the land, so the project helped them to reconnect their whakapapa [genealogy] and their people to the whenua.
“Connecting with the whenua adds a missing piece to our wellbeing.”
Wahipi said Otawa Waitaha a Hei began as a whakaaro [conversation] born from the need to protect their whenua, waterways and taonga species around Ōtawa and Ōtanewainuku.
“It was inspired by kaumātua [elders] stories of how the ngāhere and awa [river] used to sing, kākā, kōtare, tuna [eels], kōwaro [mudfish], and by concern that pests and development were breaking the mauri of those places.”
He said the project brought tikanga (tradition) and rangatiratanga (sovereignty) back into day-to-day kaitiakitanga (guardianship), reconnecting whānau to their tūrangawaewae (belonging) and creating a living landscape where their mokopuna could learn and thrive.
“It grew from small whānau trapping lines to a co-ordinated iwi initiative with training, monitoring and a long-term plan for ecological and cultural restoration.”
Having kaumātua, mātua (respected adults), and rangatahi (youth) working side by side shaped the mahi (work).
“Kaumātua carry whakapapa, tikanga and stories that guide where and how we act, mātua often provide continuity, technical skill and logistics, and rangatahi bring energy, new skills – such as GPS, drones, data entry – and an eagerness to learn and lead.”
Watana Williams, Marereia Tua, 12, Ted Whare with GPS tracker. Photo / Brydie Thompson
Lessening predator pressure
The project aimed to mitigate predator pressure from possums, rats and stoats, which had reduced the populations of birds, frogs and invertebrates, and damaged vegetation.
It also targeted habitat fragmentation and invasive weeds, which reduced food and shelter for native species, as well as the loss and degradation of waterways due to sedimentation and nutrient pollution, affecting eels and freshwater species.
Lastly, the project targeted the small population sizes of species such as Hochstetter’s frog, which made them vulnerable to local extinction.
These long-term aspirations included rebuilding resilient native ecosystems across a connected project area, so taonga species could persist without intensive intervention.
This also involved creating sustained intergenerational employment and training in taiao mahi (environmental work) for rangatahi, and restoring customary uses such as rongoā (natural medicine), kai and weaving materials so that mokopuna would know how to gather and care for resources.
Ted Whare in the Kaimai Mamaku Forest Park near Te Puke. Photo / Brydie Thompson
Legacy of healing
“[The] legacy is leaving a healed, living landscape and a network of skilled, proud whānau who hold tino rangatiratanga over their taiao,” Wahipi said.
“It’s the knowledge and places passed to mokopuna, so they carry on kaitiakitanga without reliance on outsiders.”
The hope was that future generations would remember that they stood up for their whenua and restored its voice, that they modelled intergenerational care and passed on both stories and practical skills, and that Te Kapu o Waitaha became a place where culture and ecology were woven together, a tūāpapa (foundation) for future restoration.
Bay of Plenty Regional Council coastal catchments manager Charles Harley said the region was lucky to have a large and active conservation community.
“Through this growing network, the collective conservation efforts can unite communities, supporting organisations, and stakeholders across the region, contributing to positive environmental outcomes and protecting biodiversity across our region.
“Care groups and volunteers are invaluable. We should continue to recognise and celebrate their mahi and the positive impact they make.”