07/08/2026
Where the Dead Heal the Land
By Wena Harawira/RUKU
In the Bay of Plenty, a Māori whānau is reimagining the final resting place of its dead with a mix of traditional and eco-friendly practices. But not everyone is ready to cross the great divide of change.
When the Urupā Tautaiao (natural burial site) project was presented to Ngāti Moko, a hapū of Tapuika in Te Puke, Rawiri Biel was excited by its goals - no embalming, no plastic, no concrete memorials and biodegradable coffins.
He was studying environmental management at Te Wānanga o Raukawa, learning about protecting the natural environment from a kaupapa Māori perspective. Urupā Tautaiao was dead on target.
“It made us evaluate how our burials are damaging the land.”
Tapuika lands had already been heavily depleted by the New Zealand Wars. The iwi lost more than 300,000 acres of ancestral land and were branded as "unsurrendered rebels". Crown policies and Native Land Court rulings further reduced its landholdings to just 10,000 acres.
In more recent times, Kēnana urupā, where Rawiri’s whānau and other members of the hapū are buried, wasn’t spared. In fact, the urupā was still in active use when the government decided to build a railway line directly through its centre in the 1920s, effectively splitting the burial ground in two. More land was later taken for State Highway 2.
One side of the cemetery rises around 2 metres above the road. The other side tapers down to ground level. Going around the urupā would have cost too much money, but the road carefully skirts the boundaries of Pākehā-owned land on either side.
Today, around 30,000 vehicles and 14 freight trains traverse the corridor each day.
“There’s that saying, ‘rest in peace’,” says Rawiri. “It’s anything but, with so many cars, trucks, and trains rumbling by.”
Proceeding with plans for a natural burial site was, in part, a way for the Te Hiini whānau to provide their dead with a lasting and unalienable resting place.
In 2023, this started with a ceremony to exhume the remains of 12 members of the Te Hiini whānau—of which Rawiri is a descendant—and rebury them in the natural burial site at Kēnana urupā. They included Rawiri’s great-grandparents, Ateremu and Rangiaue Te Hiini, their children and mokopuna, as well as the spouses of family members. A Māori Land Court judge, David Ambler, who died in 2017 and was married to Te Tai McNeill, a mokopuna of Ateremu, was also interred in the communal plot.
Also buried there is Ateremu’s mother, Ngahaka, the last known person to have her body placed in a tree to decompose before her bones were interred at Kēnana urupā.
Ashley Biel and her 12-year old daughter Te Rangiwhakataa helped dig up and reinter the remains of Ashley’s grandmother Aroha Te Hiini, Ateremu’s daughter who died more than 20 years ago.
“It was kind of scary seeing her in the grave,” remembers Te Rangiwhakataa. “I remember looking at her and thinking, ‘Whoa!’”
Ashley says some whānau members were also taken aback at what they had done.
“They were surprised at hearing we had seen her body. But after 23 years or so, the thing that stood out for me was seeing the green foam square that you put flowers into. It hadn’t disintegrated and was still green.
“To this day, I’m against using that stuff. I’ll also put plastic flowers aside and not in the grave,” says Ashley. “It’s about having tangihanga tautaiao (environmentally friendly funerals).”
But getting people to accept Western-style burials as a non-sustainable rubbish dump below ground, is difficult.
The whānau were part of a series of hapū wānanga with a team of researchers from AUT who initiated the Urupā Tautaiao project. Professor Hinematau McNeill—another member of the Te Hiini whānau and the project lead—described it as ‘decolonisation of death’.
Reconnecting with traditional Māori burial customs also aligned with the principles of a natural burial site: minimal environmental impact, biodegradable materials, ecological restoration and simple memorials.
But going ahead with the project wasn’t a popular choice.
Ashley says they didn’t experience any direct anger, but did hear criticism about it.
“Two of our Aunties walked out of a hui. That hurt. I sat there and thought, why are you objecting to this? This was about the whenua and looking at ways that benefit us. So the wānanga are important, especially with those who oppose it, so we can agree to this.”
One koroua told the hui he “liked being colonised” and decided to stick with the status quo.
Having that choice is important, says Bryce Kihirini, a GP and chair of the committee that oversees Kēnana Urupā.
He has copped some flak from opponents or distressed family members who lived outside of Te Puke and didn’t know their relatives had been reinterred in the natural burial site.
“Some of our whānau definitely don’t support it and want memorial stones for their mum or dad. But they’re being pushed to accept it and that doesn’t sit well with me. There are all sorts of options available and families have a right to choose what they want,” he says.
“Some of my relatives want to revive ancient customs like hanging the body in trees to decompose or using burial caves. My kuia believed cremation was for the enemy or animals. But whānau in Australia have to pay a lot of money to bring a body home. So cremation is a solution or as one of my cousins calls it ‘carry on luggage’. These are the issues of a modern world we are facing.”
Urupā serve the living. And if the people of Tapuika cannot agree on the purpose of Urupā Tautaiao, perhaps the story of Te Kuaha o Urutapu offers a tradition around death that still unifies them.
Te Kuaha o Urutapu is a gateway on the Kaituna River where the spirits of Ngāti Moko begin their final journey. If they have lived well, the guardian Te Urutapu will open the gateway. If not, you’re denied entry. Those who pass through are met by Pareawheawhe, a taniwha in the form of a stingray, who is summoned by the call of a pūkāea. It carries the spirit to the Kaituna River mouth at Maketū before continuing on to Te Rerenga Wairua. From there they travel to Hawaiki, their ancestral home and final resting place.
Where they won’t be disturbed by cars, trucks and trains rumbling by.