This river in New Zealand is a legal person. How will it use its voice? - 1

Cloud-shrouded Ngauruhoe—mythical Mount Doom in Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings—is one of the sacred mountains of New Zealand’s central North Island, birthplace of the Whanganui River.

Ruapehu and its two neighboring volcanoes are the centerpiece of Tongariro National Park, New Zealand’s first such protected area, created in 1894. The park, now a UNESCO World Heritage Site in recognition of its natural and cultural importance, draws visitors from around the world to hike the Tongariro Crossing. In Maori mythology, the Whanganui River was formed from a tear shed by Ruapehu, the tallest of the mountains.

Law student Te Wainuiarua Poa is a Whanganui Maori for whom the words: “I am the river, the river is me” is a life-defining reality. Around her neck she wears a pendant shaped from the volcanic rock of the Tongariro mountains—a token from the source of her ancestral river. Upholding the river’s mana, or prestige, she says, “is a never-ending journey.”

“I have seen grown men cry over this sight,” says river guide Mike Poa of the Tokaanu hydroelectric station, which draws water from near the source of the Whanganui River, reducing its flow and, in the eyes of Maori, diminishing its life-giving capacity. Now that the river is a legal person, what will it say when the electricity company’s resource consents come up for review in 20 years’ time?

Much of the country bordering the Whanganui River and its tributaries is steep, wet and muddy, and horses remain an efficient means of travel for the region’s farmers. However, soil erosion and nutrient run-off from agriculture persistently diminish the river’s water quality.

Recreational hunter Jack Cashmore takes a break while carrying a deer carcass up a hillside near the Whanganui River. Deer were introduced to New Zealand in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and while they are prized by hunters, they cause incalculable harm to the country’s native forests.

For many young Maori, a journey on the river is a journey for the soul. Often displaced and disconnected from their geographical roots, urban Maori fare poorly on social measures such as education, health, and employment, and the incarceration rate of Maori is more than three times their proportion of the population. For this group of former prisoners, communing with the person of the river is a way of nurturing their own sense of self.

Wahi Marama Teki, now in her 80s, teaches children from the city of Whanganui at a carved meeting house in Koriniti, a settlement on the banks of the Whanganui River. Giving children an experience of Maori history and tradition is an essential part of modern education. “Poipoia te kakano kia puawai,” runs a well-known proverb—nurture the seed and it will blossom.