They sent their mo’opuna, their youth, to join the run as the lead runners carried the Ki’i (totem) called the Lono Kūkini Pule - the Ki’i of the Prayer Runners, to sacred sites along the route where ‘oli, hula, and pule were offered. Indeed, Lono himself was the kūkini (runner/messenger) of Kāne, one of the foremost akua of Hawai’i.
Lanakila Manguail, the organizer of the `Āina Holo and co-organizer of the Maunakea demonstrations in 2015 and 2020, describes the run as “medicine” for the people. He said it is a call, yearly, for Kānaka to “come back and stand for the 'āina.”
Māori have a proverb that echoes this call. It says, “you may forget your maunga [(mountain)], but your maunga will never forget you.”
Shortly after that first 2014 run, TMT construction was halted by the elements. In January and March of 2015, record-breaking snowstorms pelted the Mauna, halting construction. The 'āina had answered back.
Thereafter, Lanakila put out a riddle to his followers online: “the feathers of the hawk are rustling, yet there is no wind.” Five individuals understood the kaona (hidden meaning) and contacted Lanakila. They held the first of many meetings strategizing how best to protect Maunakea.
This meeting would kick off some of the most impactful and meaningful, peaceful protests of any indigenous people. In 2015, and then again in 2020, Kānaka, led by Lanakila and others, organized protests on the Mauna that have successfully stalled the installation to this day.
Most of the early protestors had been part of the Lono Run. They felt the kahea (the call), and they answered. “How could we not do something for the Mauna, after just running around the entire moku,” Lanakila said.
Some of the Hīkoi participants had also been protestors on the Mauna.
Kahua Julian, a kanaka from Maui, now teaching at a Te Reo (Māori language) immersion school in Napier, Aotearoa, travelled more than 300 kilometers to Pōneke for the final Hīkoi. Kahua had also been on the Mauna in 2020. He said the atmosphere of the two demonstrations, the Hikoi and the Mauna, were the same: “both were mālie, calm; aloha was the feeling.”
Indeed, in Hawaii we call it ‘aloha’; our cousins in Aotearoa have a similar word, ‘aroha’.
Hīkoi co-organizer, Rawhitiroa, had also been on Maunakea in 2020. He said the power of peace and ceremony in protest “is something I learned on the Mauna, actually.”
As both marches neared their conclusion, the Hīkoi on the steps of parliament, the `Āina Holo on the steps of Maunakea, Hana-Rāwhiti (recently named one of BBC’s top 100 women of the year) addressed the crowd in Pōneke.