The Wednesday Feature: George Maggie

From Bible-smoker to a preaching politician -
George Maggie's transformation couldn't
be greater. Photo Credit: CI News. 

It’s the story known widely throughout Rarotonga, but almost nowhere else.

The story is one of intrigue, sadness and the ability to turn everything around.
This is the remarkable story of George Maggie.

--

The year 1960 brought around many memorable moments, some fond, some bad. The Flintstones was screened on television for the first time, Hugh Hefner opened his first Playboy club in Chicago and some boxer by the name of Cassius Clay was only just breaking into the spotlight.

It was also the year George ‘Maggie’ Angene was born.

Having lived with 60-year-old mama Maggie Brown from day one, the young boy knew in the deepest of his hearts that she was his mother. It took 12 years for the young man to find out the truth, before finding out about his six siblings – three brothers and three sisters – who all worked in New Zealand to support him and his non-working grandmother.

“When I got older that’s when I called her one name – Dad and mum.”

Maggie went to school at six-years-old and didn’t learn a thing. Instead he helped his grandmother bottle some home-brewed magic, and was also involved tasting the concoction to ensure the taste was correct.

Needing to make friends at school, Maggie got into various sports at school – karate, taekwondo, weightlifting, boxing and even did bodybuilding for a time – all to prove himself.

“Between 14 and 15 I started to drink and show off – I used to get cheeky and all that. I thought, ‘I’m strong, let’s start to see if this works’.

“I damaged a lot of people,” Maggie said, illustrating an element of pride more commonly found in his younger days.

--

The 1970s were a time of strict enforcement from the police in the Cook Islands. A curfew of eight-o-clock at night was issued to all children to ensure they weren’t out creating mischief.

Maggie didn’t miss the memo, he simply threw it in the bin. While other children were inside, no doubt having family time with mum and dad, Maggie roamed the streets.

Maggie’s maiden pilgrimage to prison came when he was just 15. The legal system of the time did not allow minors under the age of 16 to enter prison, but in an effort to avoid any further dealings with Maggie, they threw him in jail.

It was at the Arorangi Prison where he began to roll pages of the Bible to use as cigarette papers and start to get a grip on what it was like to live in-and-out of jail.

It looked as if sport would be his avenue, his way out of jail. His physical prowess as a result of the many sports he trained in saw 19-year-old halfback represent the Cook Islands.

But it wasn’t to be and his check-ins at the local prison continued.

--
Further hope for settling down was fuelled when, after living with his girlfriend for three years previously, Maggie welcomed a set of twins to the world.

“When the firstborns were born I was a heavy drinker. I had no hope, no steady job, no income to feed the kids.

“I would break in and get food. I would bef people to get food for the boys.”

Maggie’s life spiralled out of control. He would wake up at 2am and start drinking and finish at 11pm at night while looking for ways to get food or money, legally or illegally.

“I thought about killing myself through drinking, not through hanging or crashing.”

The evil genie in the bottle would not grant him his last wish, instead living through more torture and the torment of not being able to be the father his kids wanted. By 1984, the break-ins – and prison terms - became more frequent as he struggled to put food on the table for his family.

--
It was eight years later when two events would transform his life forever. The year was 1992 when Maggie’s thoughts and perspectives began to change.

“My head was starting to know what’s happening in life around the corruption of the government, so I thought about something.

“I went on the radio and said that the government needs to change or I would burn down the government building. The secretary of justice said ‘Oh, he’s only joking,’ but I wasn’t joking.”

It was Mother’s Day 1982 and after the usual prison stints, Maggie and a friend wandered down to the court house, his friend unaware of what would happen next.

“I told my friend just to wait for me while I got some papers in the justice department. I heaped the paper on a table, lit the fire and then just walked out.”

That fearlessness that had become second nature to Maggie remained as he confidently strolled out aware of what would be happening to the building in an hour’s time.

“Some people are saying the reason why I did it was to burn my criminal record. I told them if it was my criminal record then I would have had to have burned down the police department, law firms, prison, probation and the justice departments.
“It’s not because of my criminal record - it was just because of the corruption of the government in those days.”
--

Maggie was sentenced to prison for 13 years for arson, and he knew something had to change instantly. He woke up on June 18 and said his first prayer asking for one more chance.
“God, if you’re there, can you please help me because I’m scared I’m going to die in prison,” he pleaded.
“I feel sorry for my wife, my kids, can you give me one more chance to straighten up my life.”
Usual help for a Bible initially fell on deaf ears from prison wardens – they knew of his initial use and weren’t ready to supply – but he convinced the warden this was no joke.
At 32-years-old, Maggie learned to read for the first time from one of the other inmates. He also began to write as a result of things he learned from the Bible. Everything – even building – was studied by the Bible.

In 1999, the man who had burned down the courthouse, the man whose gang-leader persona had him feared among many and the outlaw who would smoke cigarettes using pages fromt he Bible, was released from prison.
Reformed, he set about working and helping the people from as early as he could. He helped at churches, with community groups and ended up in the Cook Islands Party (CIP) committee.
His biggest job was looking for a candidate for the Tupapa area in the 2010 election. Having met with 10 people who declined the offer, three pastors on one day – 16 Novermber 2008 - convinced the man himself to run.
Those same 10 people who had declined the offer only weeks earlier came up against him. “I told them, ‘it’s too late – people want me, Tupapa are going to elect me’.
He won the seat with a very good majority and continues to hold that position to this day. Maggie still hasn’t met his birthnmother or father and isn’t really too fussed about it.
While a member of the CIP, he remains very independent and for the people. In fact, he has a phrase he once said to his colleagues in parliament.
“No matter where you go today, I can go there. Where I come from, you can’t get there.”
--

The power to change, the greatest power of them all.

Ramblings and updates from the Cook Islands

 


The three Rarotonga-based Cook Islands athletes (centre left-right) are:
 Patricia Taea, Patrick Tuara and Luisa Peters.

No matter where you are in the world there are always heaps of interesting stories to tell.

It’s almost intrinsic to every single country on Earth – where there are people, there are some fascinating insights, anecdotes or little moments of magic that deserve to be told and appreciated worldwide.

It’s the reason for a new segment of the blog I’m starting on Wednesday (local time) called the Wednesday Feature.

I have already met some fascinating people in my four weeks here and I’ve decided to share their stories with you, the people in the world of the web, to become just as fascinated with them as me.

Until Thursday (NZT) you’ll just have to make do with the weekly update – of which there is plenty this week.

--

 

It has been an unusually busy Sunday here in the office. While approximately 90 percent of workers have Sunday off to go to church, a smattering of people are here in the office to complete Monday’s paper.

Proofreaders, printers, the stand-in editor and myself are in the office at present in a usual rush to get Monday’s edition ready to go.

This is no ordinary week for myself, though.

The editor, John Woods and chief reporter/sports editor Matariki Wilson are in Tahiti and have been since Thursday attending the Te Aito, a massive vaka race encompassing different types of canoes.

Take waka ama, make it a national sport and get other countries from the Pacific together, and you have Te Aito o Tahiti.

 

Their covering of Te Aito is a pretty exciting prospect for myself. Not because there is more room in the office to put my equipment or anything of that nature.

It means I have been given the duty of covering the sports section of the paper, and after three days of working in this new area it is beginning to dawn just how much work goes into our sports section.

While there has been a bit of feedback in times past about the coverage of sports – we even had a letter to the editor about it – the amount of work done by a single reporter to cover all sports action is pretty phenomenal.

 

The village chief, known as a kau-maiti, gives his blessings
to chef de mission George George Williamson and the rest
of Team CI.

It's a challenge and it’s one that I am so far enjoying. The feeling of getting a whole section of a page to fill is pretty cool but not one I think I could do for years and years to come. To those who do it, here’s to you guys!

That in itself has been a useful exercise to see if I ever would want to venture into the area of sports editing. It’s something I was curious about at times but those thoughts of curiosity have been shut more firmly than the Parramatta Eels’ boardroom door.

--
The Olympics are something most athletes dream about. Billions of people watching either in real life or in real time give the respective sports and countries a great profile. Speaking of which, here are a few things about some of the athletes representing the Cook Islands.

Young sprinter Patrick Tuara isn't going to be one who challenges Usain Bolt for the 100m title. His personal best is 12 seconds, one he hopes to overhaul in London. The most striking thing about Patrick is his commitment to the sport. At 17, Tuara still goes to high school and juggles competition and other sport around it.

Patricia Taea is very much the same. The 17-year-old still attends school - Tereora College, like Tuara - and did so until leaving for London on Monday morning (CIT). They're two of what really is a young team and like Tuara, Taea will compete in the 100m sprint.

Luisa Peters is a gem. A netballer at heart, Peters was encouraged to get into weightlifting by her grandmother, Rosie Blake (who is also the secretary general of the national Olympic body, CISNOC). Sacrificing hopes of a career in the New Zealand Police Force, the 19-year-old is instead off to London to compete in the women's clean and jerk competition.

--

As for other matters, I think I’ve finally gotten used to mokos (geckos) scurrying around the house, but a warning: if you’re not used to them or you don’t like them, you’re not going to have much sleep.

Making a heap of friends here at the moment in a whole range of areas. From the printing room to the NZ High Commission, the people here have been fantastic and the ease of friendships here is something that really stands out to me.

Getting more and more amped about cricket season, which is starting up sooner than I thought. Get the new light blue/dark blue uniform soon. Thanks to captain Glenn ‘Hori’ Miller for hooking it up brother!

Aight, that’s probably enough for now but if you ever want to know about anything here in the Islands, please don’t be afraid to ask. But for now, I’m off to go and meet some friends down at Trader Jacks.

Meitaki maata and kia manuia,

Matiu Workman

A traditional warrior stands next to a taunga (village priest), who
invites George George Williamson (chef de mission, Team CI)
into the sacred marae.





 

Boom.

And just like that, it hit home.

--

After 21 days on this beautiful island, fuelled often by the countless minutes of soul searching and questionable song choices on local radio station 88FM, I think life in Rarotonga is starting to sink in.

It certainly feels like I've been here a lot longer - I think that's a good thing - and I'm sure as the time continues to roll on more confidence and local knowledge will help get me through.

The local cuisine here is spectacular. Raw fish, known as 'ika mata', is raw fish marinated in coconut cream and lemon juice. The acidity of the citrus gets right into the fish and gives it the most outstanding taste. Get into it if you have it available wherever you are :)

The people here in the country are awesome. Have had nothing but a positive experience with people here. And given the size of the place - approx. 12,000 is the last estimate I heard - the fact everyone's nice and interconnected only bodes well for the future I reckon.

Workmates are all pretty classic. Had a pretty good time here in the newsroom meeting, greeting and in some cases eating with these folks and I'm hoping it continues to grow and grow while I'm here.

I make no mistake of my outspoken adoration for my family ha. Miss them all like bonkers and keep in contact with them at least two-to-three times a week. You can call me anything you want, I don't care, whanau is whanau and that's the main thing.

Had some pretty naff weather this weekend. While Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights have all been pretty wet, Saturday was especially fantastic: Heavy, heavy rain and more thunder and lightning than you could poke a fork at.

Managed to catch up with a few wonderful visitors. Hung with Lydia from Yahoo.co.nz, who I went to journo school with, and my vicar from St James in Lower Hutt, Peter Benge, and his wonderful family.

Those sorts of catch ups are pretty gold - there's nothing really like seeing familiar faces in a new environment. Thanks to you fullas for making the time to see me, really appreciate it!

Hey @nukuroa, for the record the Avatiu Eels beat Tupapa this weekend. There the rugby wrap up for you.

Finally, I'd just like to emphasise something that has been on my mind for a bit now.

I was having a discussion with a friend of mine who said I was very lucky to be living in Paradise and getting paid for it. While I don't deny that at all - the drive into work is all I need to know how fortunate I am to be working here - to simply say that this has all come down to luck is a bit far-fetched, I reckon.

This whole decision to travel to a country I had never been to before and where I knew nobody wasn't simply 'luck'. It was about more than that, of rekindling a personal fire and to learn, discover and realise just how beautiful the world is.

While there was an element of luck in there being a job available in Rarotonga, of all places, it's about creating your own luck and ensuring you get the most out of your own luck.

Getting a great job is luck, but leaving behind friends, family, extended family and a comfortable life for the unknown

It's all a bit too much to call luck, isn't it?

--

And just like that, it hit home. Life in Rarotonga. Let's do this.

New flat, new scooter, new scary encounters

This post, in theory, shouldn't have been written.

Not through a lack of desire or passion or motivation - more that I shouldn't be in the office today.

But putting in extra hours on days off is almost becoming a specialty of mine. Things like understanding projects here in the islands and getting a few quick fillers in the can early mean every hour at work is time well spent, in my opinion.

Before I decide to check-in to Overworkers Anonymous, I thought I'd give you a little update since my last post.

When we last spoke I was at the Central Motel in downtown Avarua accompanied by a few wasps and a couple of geckos. Well, I have since moved to an A-frame 'chalet' as part of a village of budget accomadation called Tiare Village. Feel free to Google Image them :P It's the A-Frame one.

We'll get to the use of the word 'chalet' in a minute, but first onto more improtant matters.

I now have a scooter to zip me around town! This place is filled with them so finding one wasn't necessarily the issue. The main problem was ensuring I didn't get as raw a deal as my workmate, Calida. While they paid approx $250 less than I did, their bike chain has since snapped, making the bike about as useful as the world's largest paperweight.

Thankfully I haven't encountered any bike-breaking scenarios yet and here's to a long future with the bike.

I'd love to send photos and videos through, but my camera is still unable to be used because of a lack of the right SD card here in the Cook Islands. Still waiting for the card to be shipped here so at the moment there are no photos to speak of :/

Back to the chalet. It's pretty awesome but is almost made for shorter people than myself (and I'm no giant). Two of the three rooms are rather small but one manages to fit two single foam mattresses. The master bedroom is pretty cool and gets a good view of the airport and neighbouring houses :)

There was one issue that gave me a minor heart attack. AFter Googling Cook Islands centipedes I woke up this morning to go to town and at my front door was a massive spider. This wasn't a 2mm one or a 2cm one - this was almost the size of my palm. Google Huntsman Spider. Yuck. Anyway he gapped it and I don't know where he went. There'll be a health update in the next post for sure.

As for work, there are still days where there are struggles and mental questioning, but they're a lot less frequent than at the start of my time here. I'm slowly getting into the swing of things (rather slowly to be fair - island time) and am working on getting to know the island well enough to be your tiki tour guide if needed!

Missing all family and friends back home. One thing I've found a bit hard is making new friends. While I did sort of expect this to happen (it's your classic new school syndrome) it's just a bit annoying and a bit demoralising haha - if you have Raro friends, help me out!

Finally, I've signed up to my first sports team, the Titikaveka Titans! They're the defending cricket champs here on the island and I was rapt for them to be keen on having a hit with them, so if anyone's keen to ship over my cricket gear I'd be mega happy! Ha.

From here it's getting into a proper routine with groceries and signing up to the gym. From there, I'll be moving onwards and upwards!

Talk soon guys, would love to hear any feedback or ideas for future posts haha!

Kia manuia,

Matiu Workman

Week one in the can!

Well, what a first week it has been here at the Cook Islands News.


Fuelled by doubt and emotion in the opening three days, these last two have definitely been a lot easier for me – I think I’ve now got the hang of the newsroom and the intense environment that comes from any newsroom.

It really has been a remarkable turnround. Monday and Tuesday were so difficult that a bit of Wednesday was spent searching for flights home to Wellington!

Regardless, the last two days have filled me with enough smiles for me to realise it could be working out after all.

The other journalists are great and all hard-working. Went and had a couple of bubbly brews with a couple of them on Thursday night and it was just good to see a social side to them as well.

You’re all probably wondering what Raro looks like such is my lack of photos, but never fear! From next week I’ll be doing mini videos weekly to show you all what it’s like to be a journo in Rarotonga rather than just the cheesy blog posts!

It has been an interesting week here in Rarotonga. The new secretaries for the ministries were announced – with four new HOMs (that’s the term for Heads of Ministries). I had the privilege of interviewing the new Secretary for the Ministry of Agriculture and the Ministry of Transport, two relatively low receivers of government funding.

I went to the first guy – Dr Matairangi Purea – and interviewed him at his house. We just sat on the deck, chewed the fat for an hour and just got into minor details. Here’s a snippet:

MW: Oh, I see in this CV here that you play soccer?
DMP: Oh yes! I used to play in the international team when I was at the University of Queensland (in the 80s)
MW: Oh choice – what position did you play?
DMP: Halfback.
MW: Aye? Halfback?
DMP: Yeah, halfback – number 4! (Meaning right back haha)
We continued to spin yarns and as he was talking I (rather rude in hindsight) looked over at the work vehicle that said Cook Islands News on the side, then looked at the mountain range in front of me on a clear blue sunny day and realised: This is my job.

Moments like that are frequent, now. Clouded by self-doubt in the first few days, I’ve since been able to really get my head around certain rounds I’m doing (agriculture, infrastructure and the ports) which makes me feel a lot more confident.

Chief reporter here is Matariki Wilson. She’s a character – she can be tough at times but always very fair and a good laugh outside the office. I know I'll get on with her very well. Like she says, “there’s a time and a place to work.”

The motel I’m staying at for the first two weeks is the Central Motel. Located not far from the local courthouse she’s a funny place run by an Englishman named Malcolm. Great guy, to be fair.

Haven’t really done too much discovering so far here in the tropics. There have been some nice nights out but they’re expensive after a while.

One of the big positives is my new drivers license! I’m officially allowed to drive scooters and cars here on the island. Some strange observations – nobody wears seatbelts and/or helmets here. While I guess they only go 50km/h max around here the fact there have been three scooter deaths in two weeks (alcohol related number: 2) you would have thought you’d HAVE to have one. Nope.

Editor is John Woords and as I suspected, a firm but fair boss. Haven’t really had much to do with him outside of work but sounds like he’s a good man so I will stick to that story.

Next mission for me is finding a scooter and a flat. Now that I want to actually stay here it’s probably not the worst idea? And on that note, I better head home for a feed.

Thanks for reading, hopefully those videos will start coming up from next weekend!

Matiu

Initial thoughts on life abroad..

After four weeks of chattering fingernails, scratching my head, and questioning the decision, I have finally arrived in Rarotonga :)

Having only finished up at Sportal NZ on Sunday morning at an unpleasant 2.30am, there hasn't really been enough time for me to realise just what I have got myself into.

Needless to say, the many hours I'm sure to spend strolling the streets, soaking up all of the sun, sand and beautiful sounds of the Pacific will ensure that what I've done is the right thing.

It's funny, really. People called me brave for venturing out of my comfort zone, for 'stepping into the unknown'. The fact of the matter is sometimes you need a little adventure in life, a little reminder of how decent things are back home, wherever that may be.

And it hasn't taken me long to realise how well I had it in Auckland.

Wasps. I'm not usually a fan of anything that has the potential to introduce me to a new level of pain and the Rarotongan wasps are no different. In fact, they almost look like the overweight uncles of their Kiwi counterparts which has me nervously thinking about my imminent sleep.

I managed to track down my editor at the Cook Islands News - John Woods - at Auckland International Airport. A wonderful man, he introduced me to his family before we all went and waited at the Koru Lounge.

The flight was fantastic - 21 Jump Street was fantastic by the way - and we arrived ahead of schedule. Weary, I got off the plane only for immigration to ask me for a proof of purchase or warranty for my computer, which I brought over. Seeing as I didn't have such thing - it's four years old so the warranty has since become void - I had to unpack the computer - as well as the clothing inside the box that couldn't fit in my bag - as directed.

It was my first drama, all after an hour of being in Raro. 

Still, from there it was a smooth sailing, complete with two fragrant leis that are acting as my air freshener at this stage. 

It's all still a bit surreal. Part of me feels like I'm back in Tahiti, when I went on exchange there in 2004. Yet another part senses this really is the start of a whole new adventure.

It will take a while for the whole experience to sink in, no doubt, but for now there's no time to settle in and chill out for a few days - I start tomorrow morning.

From one rush to another, but so far I'm doing well.

My first poem :)

I have never really written a poem before. Haven't really had the desire to be honest, but I felt it fitting for a city that has given me so much,

So here it is:


An Ode to My Home

The lights are dark and gloomy,
But these Wellington hues consume me and my naivety,


The rock has eroded; the sands in my Kiwi hourglass on the Kapiti Coast have neared their end,
Pictures of sand-decorated dances, walks and self-fulfilling prophecies
Are memories relived by nature’s melancholic chant,
Wintry, whistling wind,


Lights sprinkle across the district, people succumbing
To demands and actions from the technological attention-seeker,
Pre-pubescent children line stations waiting for attention from buses,
Ensuring lipstick doesn’t fall too far from their trotters,


A man whose roots have been severed at the hands of the Super City,
Friends come and go oft like handshakes not known for more than pleasure,
While Port Nicholson beacons hold strong the light that guides the erring ship,
Able to ensure comfort is at hand when called upon,


This city draped in scarlet-tinted yellow is a place I am thankful for,
A kowhai tree grew strong under the midsummer gazes, the sub-antarctic embraces
That put the region in a frost-induced deep sleep,
A Kiwi hourglass nears its end, and Rarotonga's cry emerges,


Awoken, no time to slumber,
The time for a curious traveller to explore the world has begun,
A prodigal son ready to distribute the wealth of his toil is to return,
Legacy forthcoming,


Farewell, Wellington.