Polyfest50: A personal reflection on the heartbeat of culture

Monu, monu, monu tu tagaloa!

For many New Zealand-born Pasifika people, Polyfest has been a cornerstone of cultural connection and identity. For me and many other young tagata Niue, it has been our only connection to our culture.

And in its 50th year, I reflect on what this festival has meant to me.

Practice makes perfect

Lunchtime practices, after-school sessions, weekend rehearsals consumed our lives!

Polyfest is a time to realise how much passion goes into celebrating our culture. I quickly learned from the tone of our leaders' voices if we were taking practice seriously. “Get in line! Be quiet! Listen!”

For those of us in the Niuean group, it was especially serious when you heard: “Taha, ua, tolu, hopo!”

Practices were a time to come together as a group, meet new faces you hadn’t seen around school and embrace each other while learning about our language and culture.

I think of my uncles and aunts who would join in practice and teach us the songs we would sing. Learning the meaning of every word, the notes for every tune, and its significance.

It granted a strong connection to what we were performing for. The light in our elders' eyes as they taught us the songs lit a spark in the rest of us.

Avondale College Niue Group 2017. Photo/ASB Polyfest

Fiafia night

This was the prime opportunity to polish our set and showcase what we’ve been practicing to our friends and families.

At Avondale College, we performed in the Performing Arts Centre, equipped with flashlights, proper seating, and fancy curtains, which brought our performances to life. The energy from our loved ones in the crowd reinforced our passion for our culture.

I remember in year nine, performing alongside my two older brothers felt like an honour. And I’m sure our parents were incredibly proud too!

Fiafia nights were some of my favourite times to perform Photo/Supplied

Polyfest morning

Perhaps the most stressful yet exciting time of the Polyfest experience is the morning of the performance day.

The nights prior, every group would prepare their uniforms and practise their songs and dances, ready to perform. Little sleep went into that last week.

I remember we would meet up at school in the early hours of the morning, and upon arrival, you could feel the excitement in the air. You could also smell the coconut oil drifting through the air.

The bus ride from Avondale to Manukau Sports Bowl was quite a trip. So it gave us plenty of time to sing our songs, practice the harmonies and shake off the nerves.

Upon arriving, we’d walk into the venue and see other schools as well - it'd give me a sense of rivalry because, in the end, Polyfest was a competition.

Before heading off on the buses, our group had a prayer at school. Photo/Supplied

Performance time!

After a full day of watching performances by other schools and quietly critiquing every part of their performances, it was our turn to shine.

I remember walking into the back of the stage and being crowded into the changing rooms. Our aunties and uncles would be in the back with an overwhelming hustle to get our costumes right!

Some of us would be laughing with nerves. Others would be silent in preparation. As a sportsman, I loved how it felt like pre-game jitters! There was also the prospect of being interviewed by ‘Fresh TV’ in the hopes that we’d make it to that year's episode on the Niue stage.

After all the photos with our full uniforms on, the tutors would usually give one last inspiring message to the group before it was showtime. I remember that my uncle would invite the Year 13s to have a final say and also took the time to champion our non-Niuean students in the group.

Walking up to the stage and feeling the crowd, the nerves were building, but it was finally time to take the stage.

Backstage at my first Polyfest with my two brothers, Trent and Ethan. Photo/Jen Etuata

Performing on stage

Storming the stage with the group was the best feeling! The roar of the crowd as you take the stage is an unforgettable feeling.

While performing, I remember scanning the crowd to see who was in attendance - seeing my mum, dad, brothers, aunts, and uncles cheering us on gave that extra boost.

One memory I had of my first year performing was while we were singing our lologo tapu (church song). I could hear Avondale's Sāmoan group in the distance belting out their performance-winning songs. It was a beautiful moment!

I remember seeing the reaction of the crowd if our song sounded beautiful, and watching the matua (elders) smile was all the more exciting.

Another memorable moment was during my first year, when, during our fakaotiaga (exit), where each student had a chance to wave to the crowd, I saw my late auntie atop the judge's panel waving back at me.

Waving at my aunty during our exit song. Photo/Jen Etuata

The lasting impact

Reflecting on those early years, it’s clear that Polyfest has had an impact on shaping who I am today.

It's more than just a festival - it's a celebration of identity, a chance to reconnect with my Niue roots, and a way to pass on our culture to the next generation.

The connections I made, the lessons I learned, and the pride I felt performing on the Niue stage continue to guide me in my life today. Polyfest showed me the strength of community and the importance of preserving our traditions.

It was a time when I felt like I belonged, when my culture was not just something I was taught but something I lived and experienced. It made me appreciate the sacrifices made by my elders and the importance of sharing our stories and language with the younger generation.

Photo/Jen Etuata

Looking forward

As Polyfest celebrates its 50th anniversary, I look forward to seeing how the festival continues to evolve while staying true to its roots. For young Niue and Pasifika youth, Polyfest will always remain an opportunity to proudly share their culture and connect with their heritage.

The festival has grown, with new schools, new performances, and new generations of Pasifika youth taking the stage. But at its heart, it remains a celebration of who we are.

It’s about holding onto what matters most - our language, songs, and the wisdom passed down through generations.