Fafine Ekalesia Kelisiano Tuvalu
Fafine Ekalesia Kelisiano Tuvalu
“It's not about pleasing anybody,” she says. “It's about letting your creativity exceed.” Grace believes many people silence themselves because they fear judgement. “So it's like just a free canvas where it's just blank and this is me.”
The space is filled with laughter, conversation, colour, and carefully crafted handmade treasures. The room overflows with joy. But for the women of Fafine Ekalesia Kelisiano Tuvalu Pukekohe & Tuakau, the creators behind this art, the message is much deeper. Every woven piece, painted sheet, garland, and crochet design carries a story from the islands of Tuvalu and with it, a story of family, identity, and cultural memory.
For the participants in this fellowship group, creativity is inseparable from heritage. Their work is not simply about craft, it is about preserving a culture that risks being diluted across generations and distance. It is about ensuring that Tuvaluan children growing up in New Zealand understand where they come from and why those roots matter.
Fafine Ekalesia Kelisiano Tuvalu was established to bring together women aged from 15 years and older, creating a space where knowledge could be shared between generations. The group focuses on traditional Tuvaluan handicrafts while also encouraging oral storytelling, language preservation, cultural learning, and community connection.
The challenges are significant. Materials are expensive and traditional resources are difficult to import. Some of the younger generations raised in New Zealand are increasingly disconnected. Yet despite those barriers, the women continue to gather, create, and teach.
For organiser Grace Tema-Liapaneke, the heart of the group lies in showcasing the richness of Tuvaluan culture and ensuring those traditions are not forgotten.
“I just wanted them to showcase what they’ve got in Tuvalu,” Grace explains. “Each of the ladies have different crafts, it’s been passed down through generations.”
Tuvalu itself is made up of six atolls and three reef islands, each carrying distinct traditions and identities. Tema-Liapaneke says many people in New Zealand know little about Tuvaluan culture despite the country’s rich Pacific diversity.
“We’re so diverse here in New Zealand, but unfortunately for the Tuvaluan ones, there is no gateway for them showing off what they’ve got,” she says. That lack of visibility is one reason the fellowship matters so deeply.
The group combines women from Tuakau and Pukekohe, forming a cultural bridge where older generations can pass on skills and younger members can reconnect with their heritage. Yet many of the natural materials traditionally used in Tuvalu are difficult or impossible to source locally. Rather than allowing tradition to disappear entirely, the women are adapting techniques to suit what is available in New Zealand while maintaining the spirit and meaning of the original artforms.
“There’s a real element of creativity there,” Grace says.
Dyes are mixed by hand. Colours are created through experimentation. Crochet techniques passed down through families are recreated as faithfully as possible despite differences in materials. For group chairperson Sinatala Leti Enosa, creativity has always been woven into everyday life.
“I learned it from my mum,” she says. Sinatala began crocheting at just nine years old.
“As I’m the only daughter, my mum makes sure I know everything,” she explains. That practical knowledge was essential in island life, where resources were limited and creativity often became a necessity.
“I do baking. I do painting. I’m a very creative woman,” Sinatala explains. Today, she channels those skills into painting fabrics and creating decorative pieces for the group. The process itself reflects the resourcefulness of the community. “We lay the sheets on it and we start painting,” she continues. “Or we do our own colours to match. As you can see. I make up my own colours to make it look pretty.” Even the simplest materials become transformed through patience and artistic vision.
Behind the beauty of the crafts is a much larger purpose, one of cultural survival. For many members, the group provides an essential connection to identity in a country far from home.
Kapoiti Alefaio, who spent nearly two decades teaching in Tokelau before moving to New Zealand, says joining has helped her rediscover parts of herself she had lost touch with.
“What really makes this group special in terms of my life, I’ve been studying abroad and working away from Tuvalu,” she says. “But when I came here to New Zealand, I got another chance to be in the Tuvaluan community.”
The experience transformed her understanding of her own culture.
“Most of my traditional and cultural skills, those creative arts and things, I didn’t know any of them,” Alefaio admits. “But now that I’m in this group, I’m starting to learn a lot. And now I know the secret behind every handicraft that they make.”
The fellowship has also recreated a sense of home.
“Being in this small community, it’s just like I’m in Tuvalu because I’m talking the language,” she says. “I’m enjoying singing and dancing, and working together with them.” The emotional importance of that support network echoes throughout the group.
Gloria Tanimo Laulau is the local church minister’s wife and a newer member of the Tuvaluan community. She says the group immediately made her feel welcome.
“What makes them special for me is the fellowship that I have with them,” Gloria says. “The care they have shown and our relationships in the community, it’s so beautiful and the connections that we have is amazing.”
The creative environment has also become a place of cultural exchange.
“What I saw with them, how they make this kind of thing, the colours and everything, it’s new to me and it pushes me to learn,” Tanimo Laulau says.
Importantly, the exchange works both ways.
“They teach me and I also help them,” she says. “That’s the special thing here.”
The women support one another not only through creativity but through the realities of migrant life. That support can be practical, emotional, spiritual, or educational.
“We are always there as a family,” Kapoiti says. “Even though by blood we don’t have any connection, we are all Tuvaluan here.”
The group gathers regularly, often every two weeks when resources allow. Sometimes they meet in halls and at other times they gather in homes.
“Sometimes we go to one of the houses where we can sit and then we see the others are painting, the others are weaving, the others are making the garlands,” Leti Enosa says.
The cost of halls, materials, and imported supplies places pressure on the group, yet the women continue because they know what is at stake. Tema-Liapaneke believes younger generations are at risk of losing their connection to their cultural roots entirely.
“Our westernised children, they’re losing their culture,” she says. “They’re losing their roots.”
She understands the tension many Pacific families experience while raising children in New Zealand. For her, identity is deeply important.
“When they get married and have their own kids, you want them to go back and say, ‘Hey, where did I come from?’” she says.
That question drives much of the group’s work. Tuvaluan culture has long relied on oral storytelling and intergenerational teaching. The group recognises that in today’s world, efforts must now be made to document and preserve those traditions before they disappear. The challenge is encouraging younger people to engage. Grace says confidence and fear are often major barriers.
“They need to overcome their shyness and their pride,” she says.
Despite those fears, the group continues to dream about bigger opportunities. Tema-Liapaneke hopes the women will eventually feel confident enough to openly share their knowledge without barriers. “Being able to share their knowledge comfortably without any barriers,” she says. “Because the barriers that they’ve got are man-made.”
She envisions workshops, educational programmes, and spaces where Tuvaluan artforms can be celebrated publicly. The group also hopes to secure more funding and resources so they can continue sourcing traditional materials and running regular workshops.
Gloria also sees enormous potential for the women’s creativity to become economically empowering. “I hope that they will continue doing what they love to do,” she says.
Underlying every conversation is a deep respect for creativity itself. Tema-Liapaneke describes it as something deeply personal and liberating.
“It’s not about pleasing anybody,” she says. “It’s about letting your creativity exceed.” Grace believes many people silence themselves because they fear judgement. “So it’s like just a free canvas where it’s just blank and this is me.”
Every handcrafted item created within the group carries the fingerprints of ancestors, mothers, grandmothers, and communities stretching across generations and oceans. Each piece becomes a promise that Tuvaluan culture still lives and has a future. The value of that work cannot be measured simply in dollars.
As generational change continues to reshape Pacific communities across New Zealand, groups like Fafine Ekalesia Kelisiano Tuvalu are becoming increasingly important. They are preserving stories that might otherwise disappear. They are ensuring children born far from Tuvalu can still understand the beauty and richness of their heritage.
Most importantly, they are proving that culture survives not only through grand gestures but through ordinary people gathering together around tables, sharing skills, telling stories, and creating with their hands.