There is no hiding that like so many other Kiribati men, my grandfather was abusive to my grandma. He was physically overbearing over Terira. There is a story that my grandma spent a night clinging to the inside of a well while my grandfather, in a rage, raced around looking for his wife. Continue reading Climate change: why men’s violence against women increases with each rising tide.
If I can’t recognize the power storytelling and the advice my elders are passing onto me, how can I expect my future children to understand? Continue reading Building a Wall (written for The Big Issue)
The canoe is made by the men in the village, but this couldn’t be done without relying on the strength and quality of the women’s rope. A thought which I find so wonderful Continue reading Kiribati architecture and design
To crack a joke about rising sea waters demonstrates a clear lack of understanding and education on the subject. If you don’t know what you’re talking about, then keep your mouth shut. Continue reading Why jokes about climate change are so so wrong.
In my own cultural journey, these points are just some of the reasons I allow myself the title of upholding what it means to be a proud I-Kiribati woman… Continue reading The Kiribati woman
Anywhere else in the world, it is a luxury to live by the sea. In Kiribati, it means that you are the first to be without a home. Continue reading The Night I Learned to Fear the Ocean
I love language and how it can be used to inspire, but to be honest – I’m over the climate change conversation. Continue reading Changing the way we talk about climate change.
Tomorrow, High Tide will be showing as part of the festival right in the middle of Melbourne CBD. If you’re around Melbourne, go to the big inflatable island sitting in Federation Square. Continue reading High Tide – life in Kiribati
I have written a children’s book. It is a Kiribati story, with Kiribati characters and told with a Kiribati heart. It is called Teaote & The Wall. Continue reading Teaote & The Wall
I’m not sure if he recognised me or not, but I know for sure he looked at me holding the sign, then smirked, shook his head and kept walking. I’m pretty sure the shaking of the head could be interpreted as ‘what a fucking tree-hugging loser’. Continue reading Team Little Island – why and how you should change the world