A black-and-white photo of a person on horseback holding a large flag, framed in an ornate gold frame, with shimmering gold particles in the background.
Th Kīngi Tūheitia Portraiture Award-winning shot from Jazmin Paget-Knebel (Image: Supplied; additional design: Liam Rātana).

ĀteaMay 26, 2025

Kīngi Tūheitia Portraiture Award winner Jazmin Paget-Knebel is reframing the Māori image

A black-and-white photo of a person on horseback holding a large flag, framed in an ornate gold frame, with shimmering gold particles in the background.
Th Kīngi Tūheitia Portraiture Award-winning shot from Jazmin Paget-Knebel (Image: Supplied; additional design: Liam Rātana).

The young East Coast photographer is turning her lens toward whakapapa, whenua and the future of Māori portraiture.

When 22-year-old photographer Jazmin Tainui Mihi Paget-Knebel got the call to say she had won the 2025 Kīngi Tuheitia Portraiture Award, she was on campus, preparing her assignments for submission. “It was hand-in week,” she laughs. “I thought they were just calling to ask me to do media or something.” But behind the call were the judges themselves – and they had unanimously chosen her image, Taniwha Chasers, as the winner of the prestigious $20,000 prize.

Shot on a beach in Ōpōtiki, the photograph is a striking black-and-white portrait of a rangatahi on horseback, galloping across the sand, tino rangatiratanga flag raised, hooves pounding. It’s cinematic, but real. Bold, yet unpretentious. “I didn’t stage anything,” she explains. “I just put the word out to my cousins, asked whoever was keen to bring their horses to the beach, and gave them the freedom to ride how they wanted. The flag was something I had with me – one of the boys chucked it on a stick and took off.”

For Paget-Knebel, Taniwha Chasers is more than a portrait. It’s a reclamation. “Horses were brought here as tools of colonisation – but in our town, they’ve become a source of pride. They’re part of us now.” The judges agreed, calling the work “uplifting, joyful… full of hope and youthful energy” and praising its powerful message about the ongoing reclamation of whakapapa and whenua.

Born and raised in the coastal township of Ōmaio, Paget-Knebel has whakapapa back to Te Whānau-ā-Apanui, Whakatōhea, Ngāpuhi and Ngāti Hine. She was homeschooled by her mum and took up photography at age 12 as a way of exploring her environment. “Growing up surrounded by te taiao, by the moana – I had this instinct to document it. It was an outlet.”

Three artworks are displayed against a woven flax background: a seated elderly person, two detailed Māori carvings with intricate patterns, and a black and white abstract figure holding staffs.
Some of the honourable mentions that were also finalists in the Kīngi Tūheitia Portraiture Award (Images: Supplied)

At 16, she attended a National Geographic photo camp in Murupara. “That changed everything. I realised photography could be a way to explore and express my Māoritanga, not just aesthetics.” Since then, her focus has been unapologetically kaupapa Māori – reframing the camera as a tool for re-indigenising perspective. “Photography has long been a colonial weapon,” she says. “I’m here to shift that. We deserve to see ourselves in our own light.”

Now in the final year of a photography honours degree at Massey University, Paget-Knebel is already thinking ahead. Next year, she hopes to enrol in a full-immersion te reo Māori course. “I want to ground myself in our language before anything else,” she says. “This win kind of flipped my plans – but in a good way. The future is bright. I just want to keep making meaningful work.”

Her influences range from icons like Lisa Reihana and Fiona Pardington to the toi Māori on her own marae. “There’s inspiration everywhere. Even our activists – people like Hana-Rawhiti [Maipi-Clarke, Te Pāti Māori MP] – push me to think about how our art fits into our wider struggle for sovereignty.”

Asked what she’d most love to photograph next, Paget-Knebel shares a powerful vision. “Right now, I’m working on a project about our atua – trying to depict them through a photographic lens that honours their complexity. Not humanising them the way we’ve been taught to. Just showing them as they are, in our stories.”

She also dreams of connecting with other indigenous communities around the world. “It’s not just about Māori,” she says. “I want to document the beauty in how our people relate across oceans – how we hold each other up.”

Despite the sudden wave of attention – media interviews, high-profile messages, hundreds of social media notifications – Paget-Knebel remains grounded. “I’ve been overwhelmed by the love. But at the end of the day, I’m just a girl from Ōmaio, trying to tell the stories that matter.”

At the awards ceremony at Pipitea Marae in Te Whanganui-a-Tara, Jazmin stepped on stage in a pair of red bands – the unofficial footwear of the East Coast. “We’re born in them,” she jokes. “I wanted to carry home with me.”

And with Taniwha Chasers, she did just that – capturing not only the spirit of her whānau, but a future where Māori see ourselves not through someone else’s gaze, but through our own.

This is Public Interest Journalism funded by NZ On Air.

Keep going!
A black-and-white portrait of a woman in traditional clothing overlays an old stone building with an arched courtyard. A red, white, and black flag tops the building against a blue background filled with handwritten script.
Image: Supplied. Additional design: The Spinoff.

ĀteaMay 24, 2025

Reading the lost diary of the first indigenous woman to study at Oxford

A black-and-white portrait of a woman in traditional clothing overlays an old stone building with an arched courtyard. A red, white, and black flag tops the building against a blue background filled with handwritten script.
Image: Supplied. Additional design: The Spinoff.

A hundred years ago, the formidable guide, scholar and cultural authority Mākereti Papakura was documenting village life, politics and high-society visits in Whakarewarewa. Now, her whanaunga June Northcroft-Grant revisits those diary pages with fresh eyes.

This year, more than a century after she enrolled at Oxford University, pioneering Te Arawa scholar Mākereti Papakura will be awarded a posthumous Master of Philosophy in Anthropology from the University of Oxford. The recognition honours her extraordinary contribution to ethnography – one that challenged colonial norms by documenting the richness of Māori life from within.

Born in Matatā in 1873 and raised in Whakarewarewa, Mākereti was a cultural authority, a beloved guide and the first known indigenous woman to enrol at Oxford. Her thesis, published after her sudden death in 1930 as The Old-Time Māori, remains a landmark work. For her descendants and the people of Tūhourangi – Ngāti Wāhiao, the honour is a long-overdue affirmation of a life lived boldly across worlds. And for one of her whānau, reading through her 1907 diary reveals just how alive, political and purposeful that life really was.

As a child, I was captivated by a black-and-white photo in my parents’ old album. It showed an enigmatic Māori woman wearing a headscarf and a large hei tiki, staring out with knowing eyes. My father Henry, who was raised in Whakarewarewa from 1915 by his kuia Rakera, told me she was his mother’s cousin: Mākereti Papakura. He called her Whaea. She had lived in England, spoke “like the Queen,” and once returned to the village in the 1920s for a brief visit. To my father, she was a glamorous figure – worldly and impressive.

I was in my forties when I rediscovered her story. I remembered that Mākereti had left a diary behind in her sister Bella’s home, Teawaimanukau. Reading it as an adult was something else entirely. The names she wrote of – Apirana, Maui, Te Rangihiroa, Tawa – were no longer just names. I knew who they were, what they meant to us, and to Aotearoa. Her diary, written in 1907, reveals a vibrant life at Whakarewarewa: hosting visitors from across the world, guiding tourists through geothermal wonders, and sharing meals and conversations with some of the most influential Māori thinkers of her generation.

Sir Apirana Ngata, Sir Maui Pomare, and Sir Peter Buck (Te Rangihiroa) feature regularly, not as distant historical figures, but as friends. Alongside them, captain Gilbert Mair (Tawa), a close family friend, appears frequently in her entries. Together, these young leaders formed what became known as the Young Māori Party – a visionary collective working to uplift Māori health, education, land development and cultural pride.

Two Māori women in white dresses and wide-brimmed hats, both wearing pounamu pendants. The photograph is black and white and captioned as Maggie Papakura and her sister Bella, guides from Rotorua.
Mākareti Papakura (left) and her sister Bella Papakura. (Image: supplied).

Friday February 8, 1907: Tawa only in Ohinemutu – arranging Porimi’s funeral. Spent evening & had dinner with us… Brought some lovely peaches. He is a dear old father to us. Letter in Herald by W.B. Te Kuiti. A beautiful article written by an educated man and one who understands the Māori race. Kia ora W.B. Te Kuiti A Ake! Ake! Ake!

One entry records Te Rangihiroa and his wife coming to live in the village. Others note her deep affection for her sister Bella, her grief when sending young nieces to boarding school, and the small joys and outrages of daily life. From lighthearted mentions of local observers satirising her haka, to fury at a policeman trying to stop villagers from bathing in their own pools, her voice is vivid.

A vintage diary shows two dated entries: the left page is from February 5, densely handwritten in brown ink; the right page, from November 19, has a single faint line: “A day never to be forgotten.” Both pages are slightly yellowed.
Excerpts from the diary of Mākareti Papakura. (Images: Supplied).

Sunday June 30, 1907: Constable came out and said Māoris were not to bathe in roadside bath and he took down the names of the people there. Like their impudence to talk and interfere with things on our own private grounds.

The diary also captures moments of national significance. During Ngata’s campaign for parliament, Mākereti records the excitement, the vehicles used to shuttle voters, the gatherings and the performances.

Wednesday December 4, 1907: Great excitement over our own election for Apirana Ngata. We had a motorcar to convoy our people backwards and forwards… Big lunch at Wahiao for all the tribes and our own people. Everything a huge success.”

And then, this mysterious note:

Tuesday November 19, 1907: A day never to be forgotten.

No explanation follows. But in the back of the diary is a name and address: Richard Staples-Brown, Brampton, Oxfordshire. Four years later, Mākereti would marry him. They later divorced. And she, ever determined, went on to enrol at Oxford University to study anthropology.

A group of men in formal clothing, some with canes and hats, stand and watch as a woman in traditional dress guides another man up a rocky hillside. Text below identifies the guide as Maggie Papakura.
In 1901, Papakura was the guide for the Duke and Duchess of Cornwall and York (later King George V and Queen Mary). (Image: Supplied).

She was in her fifties, living modestly, struggling with illness, and racing to finish her thesis when she died suddenly in 1930. Her friend and fellow anthropologist, Thomas K. Penniman, kept his promise to her. He helped ensure her manuscript, The Old-Time Maori, was published posthumously. In a 1936 letter to Bella Wiari, he wrote:

“Those of us who loved her and admired the Māori people are anxious that her work should be published without any mistakes, so that both the younger people of Te Arawa and the people of the world should know how fine the old Māori civilisation was, and what it has to contribute to the world.”

That sentiment still rings true. Reading her diary over a century later, I see not only the voice of a pioneering scholar and cultural guide but the enduring wairua of a woman who loved her people, her village, and her world.