New Zealand citizenship doesn’t come easily to everyone: Judith Lacy

New citizens Munu Karki (second from left) and Dewan Tamang are flanked by Palmerston North Deputy Mayor Debi Marshall-Lobb and Manawatū Guardian editor Judith Lacy.

Judith Lacy is the editor of the Manawatū Guardian. She has been writing Judith’s Jottings for more than three years.

OPINION

All I had to do to become a New Zealand citizen was pop out of my mother’s lady parts early one morning at Whanganui Hospital 20 or 50 moons ago.

Poor Mum was haemorrhaging and says I was “chucked in a corner” while the obstetrician, midwife and other medical staff worked to save her life. I prefer to believe I was safely put in a crib, but either way, hey presto, I was a New Zealand citizen.

My parents were born in New Zealand, as were three of my four grandparents. Gran was born in the hardly exotic England and came to Aotearoa as a young girl.

I reflected on my journey to being eligible for a silver fern passport at last week’s Palmerston North citizenship ceremony.

I haven’t been to one yet where I didn’t know someone making the journey to the stage to shake Mayor Grant Smith’s hand and become a New Zealand citizen.

This time there were former students, all of who had come to New Zealand as refugees, and my beauty therapist Munu Karki, who also came to New Zealand as a refugee. What a delightful surprise. It was hard to know where to turn because there were so many people to congratulate.

One of my former students greeted me with “long time no see teacher”. How Kiwi is that. My pride had no bounds.

When I taught at English Teaching College many of my students had been in the country for only a few months and had years to wait until they could apply for citizenship. But they were already counting down to that day. Their excitement always made me appreciate how easily citizenship had come to me.

From sari to kōrowai, pink braids to princess dress, baby-blue suit and burqa, it was a parade of choice on May 14. There were also mayoral chains, town crier garb, and army and air force dress uniforms.

The rainbow of attire was complemented by the Palmy green on display at the Conference + Function Centre, plus the green of the fern each new citizen received. But what mattered was what was in the hearts of the 130 or so — love for Aotearoa.

India topped the country-of-origin stakes with 19 people, followed by South Africa with 17.

Countries of origin that received only one tally mark in my notebook included Denmark, Venezuela, Kenya and Solomon Islands.

Town crier Lyal Brenton has the tricky task of correctly pronouncing each new citizen’s name. He talks to each person as they arrive and writes their name down as it sounds. A man behind me commented to his whānau that Lyal’s pronunciation was “really good”.

Representing Rangitāne, it was Nuwyne Te Awe Awe Mohi’s first citizenship ceremony. She said without new citizens, the city would not be alive.

Channelling her father, Wiremu Te Awe Awe, Nuwyne told the new citizens that when they settle in Palmerston North, the All Blacks become their new favourite team. Wherever they are from becomes their second favourite.

She encouraged the children to get involved in kapa haka and said the new citizens had come into a well-established city open to everybody.

Dewan Tamang, a registered nurse at Palmerston North Regional Hospital, is married to Karki. After beautifully printing his name in my notebook, he wrote “Munu’s hubby”. The combination of love and colloquialism warmed my heart much more than the missing sausage roll would have filled my stomach.

Instead, we dined on other typical Kiwi fare — sandwiches, mini pies and scones.