Pūrākau: Ranginui and Papatūānuku

Long, long ago, te ao was not like it is today: this was Te Timatanga. There was no sun, no grass, and no open sky. Instead, Ranginui (the Sky Father) and Papatūānuku (the Earth Mother) were wrapped in a giant, never-ending hug. Because they held each other so tightly, everything was pitch black. This was called Te Pō—the long darkness.

Deep inside that hug lived their many tamariki. There were over 150 of them! It was very, very crowded. The children had to crawl over each other, and some even had to stand on their younger siblings’ shoulders just to move.

One day, a curious brother named Uepoto saw a tiny, shimmering light peeking through a gap between his parents. He was amazed! He told his siblings, and soon the news spread like a playground secret, thanks to Toroiwaho, the atua of gossip.

A brave teina named Tāne decided he wanted to see what was out there. He and Uepoto found a world of warmth and bright colours. “We shouldn’t live in the dark anymore,” Tāne said. “We need to bring the light inside!”

Tāne asked his brothers for help. A tuakana named Whiro just rolled his eyes—he liked the dark and didn’t want to move. But the others agreed to try.

The brothers tried to push their father, Rangi, away with their arms, but he was too heavy. Tāne didn’t give up. He had a clever idea to lay on his back on his mother, Papa. He put his strong shoulders against her, reached his waewae high up and with a great heave, he pushed against his father’s stomach. This also failed, however, so then Tāne called on two brothers to get axes and chop Rangi’s arms off. Tāne finally managed to push Rangi away.

It was hard work. To help keep the sky up, Tāne called on the four winds. Two winds grabbed Rangi by the armpits and two grabbed him by the hips, lifting him higher and higher until he stayed way up in the air.

Finally, the light flooded in! The children could see the trees, the mountains, the whenua and each other for the first time.

But Rangi and Papa were very sad to be apart. Papatūānuku turned over to hug her youngest baby, Rūaumoko, who stayed deep in the ground. High above, Rangi looked down, tino pōuri, and cried because he missed his wife so much. His soft, falling roimata became the lakes and the rivers that we see on earth today.