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Fighting for tradition

A native Hawaiian fights for his right to practice cultural rituals involving burying his child’s placenta after birth

A green, bumpy breadfruit hangs amidst the branches and leaves of a tree.
A photo of an ulu breadfruit tree.
Photo by Yui Leung

Kihe Nahale-a, the sustainability educational program manager at BYU–Hawaii, said the tree that grows where his daughter’s ‘iewe, or placenta, was buried is strong just like his daughter. He said the result of performing Hawaiian birth rituals helps guide his daughter and reminds her of her role, value and responsibilities to herself, her family and her land. “We are very proud of her,” he said.

Nahale-a said he grew up on the Hilo side of the island of Hawai’i. In college, Nahale-a said he learned the Hawaiian language and it answered his question, “Who am I?” One book he said he read in college was "The Polynesian Family System in Ka-’U, Hawaii" by E.S. Craighill Handy and Mary Kawena Pukui.

“I began to read the section on life cycles and Hawaiian birthing practices,” he said. He read of māwaewae, kanu ‘iewe, and the piko, which were rituals involving the umbilical cord, placenta and certain practices to dedicate a baby to the gods. According to Handy and Pukui, “Protecting from evil, blessing with good things, prestige, well-being and happiness, were the purposes of the rituals.”

In that moment, Nahale-a said he decided to perform the māwaewae ceremony when he had his first child. When he met his wife, Nohea Stibbard, he said she had the same mindset. They both wanted to “celebrate, praise and practice the ways of our ancestors,” he said.

Māwaewae

Nahale-a said a māwaewae ceremony is traditionally done within 24 hours of a birth. “It is a ceremony that clears a path for the family and kids to follow,” he said, like a right of passage.

As part of the māwaewae, Nahale-a said a person gathers materials from the land like herbs. “Things from mountain to ocean,” he said. “Things that have meaningful names or are related to our deities.”

A pig is cooked, he said, and the mother eats meat from different parts of the pig, symbolically eating the whole pig. Handy and Pukui say the eating of the pig is, “an occasion of worship rather than pleasure and festivity.” They explain when the mother learns she is with child, the father begins to raise a pig, and when the child is born, that is the pig used for the māwaewae ceremony.

Other foods were gathered that symbolize forgiveness and cleansing are eaten as well, said Nahale-a. Then, Nahale-a said there are certain practices to dedicate the baby to the family gods. “This is so [the gods] know our family is dedicated to maintaining our relationship [to them],” he explained.

Kanu ‘iewe

Kanu means to plant and ‘iewe is the placenta and afterbirth, said Nahala-e. Planting the ‘iewe is a way to ceremonially dedicate someone to a thing or place, he explained. Typically, he said, people plant the ‘iewe by a plant that is important to the family. As the child grows, the plant grows with them and acts as a protector over the child’s ‘iewe, Handy and Pukui explain.

Piko

Nahale-a said the piko, or umbilical cord, is important because it is “the connector” between the mother and baby. One shouldn’t throw it away, he said. Traditionally, doing something special with the piko shows acknowledgement and care toward the role it has played in the pregnancy, he said.

Some families take the piko to a special place, said Nahale-a. “Some take [the piko] to a lava field, carve a hole in the rock and cover it,” he explained, while others take it to the ocean.

Where people plant the piko dedicates the child to a land-based or ocean-based lifestyle, he explained. This is different from kanu ‘iewe, said Nahale-a, because the piko connects a child to a life path while the ‘iewe connects the child to a specific place.

These three rituals “are all dedicatory ceremonies to family, place and spirit,” said Nahale-a. There are many practices performed throughout a lifetime that connect a person back to their lineage and place, said Nahale-a. These rituals, he said, are essential to “the life cycle of a Hawaiian.”

A pair of hands holds a pile of dirt close to the ground with a green sprout growing out of it.
A pair of hands holds a burgeoning sprout growing from the soil.
Photo by Yui Leung

Ka ‘iewe incident

Nohea Stibbard said when she found out she was pregnant, excitement began welling up in her as she sat in the examination room. She said she asked if the hospital had any midwives because she enjoys the way midwives care for women and children at the time of birth. According to Stibbard, the doctor's response was, “‘Absolutely not! This hospital doesn’t support that kind of practice.’”

Stibbard said they also requested to keep the child’s ‘iewe in. She said the doctor would not allow it and told them it was illegal.

Nahale-a said they found a legal group that supports Hawaiians. “We had our first court hearing in May 2005,” he said. According to Nahale-a ,the judge did not rule in favor of the Nahel-a’s keeping the ‘iewe due to a lack of information on the situation. Nahale-a said the judge planned to research and give his final ruling at a later time.

With the due date of their baby fast approaching, Nahahe-a said during the second hearing the judge said, “‘I am still not ready to decide.’” However, he said the judge tried to compromise and put a restraining order on the hospital to prevent disposal of the ‘iewe. Nahale-a expressed, “To them, it was a compromise of sorts. But for us, it was an injustice.” He explained they felt this way because his family was being kept from participating in sacred Hawaiian traditional ceremonies.

Stibbard said, “The day finally came for me to give birth. Everyone was excited!” Stibbard said they decided to have a home birth, but during labor a problem arose and they quickly decided to go to the hospital, where she had a Cesarean section. “Fortunately, the child was born in good health,” she said.

In the birthing room, Nahale-a said he kept an eye on the ‘iewe. “I was able to go with the nurse and take the ‘iewe to the room they were keeping it in,” said Nahale-a. Tempted to negotiate with the nurse to gain possession of the ‘iewe, Nabale-a said he chose to trust his lawyer and be patient.

Nahale-a told his lawyer they would be moving to a different town soon. If he didn’t get an answer about the ‘iewe, he said, “‘I’m gonna do what I think is right for my family.’” Time passed and Nahale-a said the lawyer's advice was to wait because he believed Nahale-a's family could get a favorable ruling. Nahala-a’s response was, “This is the end of the line.”

“I prayed to the ancestors to ask for help,” Nahale-a said. He trusted his instincts and headed to the hospital without knowing what he was going to do, he said. Getting past the front desk, he said he found the door to the ‘iewe. To his surprise, he said, the door was open.

In the room were refrigerators to hold ‘iewes. Normally the fridges were locked, he said, but it opened when he tried and "the ‘iewe was sitting right there." He said he took the ‘iewe, put it in his backpack and left.

Exiting the hospital, Nahale-a said nothing happened. He said he heard a voice from within telling him, “Don’t go to the truck. Don’t go to the truck. Get out of here.” Walking a different way, he said he called Stibbard to update her. “Right then a security guard started yelling at me,” said Nahale-a.

When the security guard told him to come back, Nahale-a said he yelled back “‘Negative!’” and kept moving forward to the bus stop. There, Nahale-a called up a friend, Mehana, to ask for help. Mehana showed up soon thereafter and communicated with the security guard the importance of the ‘iewe to Nahale-a's family.

Nahale-a said his lawyer came to the scene as well as a police officer. He said Mehana explained the situation to the officer while his lawyer pulled him aside to discuss how to move forward.

Nahale-a said the police officer called him over and explained he was going to ask to look inside his bag. If Nahale-a said no, the officer would read him his rights, have Nahale-a sign a citation, and leave. After speaking with his lawyer, Nahale-a told the officer he could not look in his bag, signed the citation and left.

According to Nahale-a, the ‘iewe made its way to the place Nahale-a’s family had planned. He said, “We planted it where it remains till this day. Nahale-a said his daughter is thriving, and he feels they did what was right.

His lawyer told him there could be some legal issues if the hospital had security footage of him taking the ‘iewe, but he said, “Nothing ever came up, and so we never had a problem.”

'Iewe rights

In 2005, the Hawaii State Department of Health adopted a blanket policy that categorized placenta as a biological waste that needed disposal, writes the FluxHawaii website. Andrew Sprenger, an attorney who challenged this ruling on behalf of a young Native Hawaiian couple, explained why the case was important, saying, “Native Hawaiian rights have always been marginalized,” writes the website. This case, along with cultural and political activism in various forms, led to a bill in 2006 that made Hawaii the first state in the nation to give women the right to take home their placentas, says the website.