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Aunty Soana Joseph (left) and mum.

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Opinion

The time when aunty, at age 11, threw a knife at grandpa over mum

Ahead of International Women's Day this Sunday, PMN’s Aui’a Vaimaila Leatinu’u honours his mother and aunty in how they persevered through a hard life.

Vaimaila Leatinu'u
Aui'a Vaimaila Leatinu'u
Published
02 March 2026, 7:00am
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Trigger warning: This article covers topics of sexual abuse, drug use, domestic and family violence.

My mum, Evelyn Nauer, once ran from home bare foot in the rain with only a nightie on, escaping grandpa’s attempt to molest her. She was 13.

She sat in the bushes outside of a housie, waiting for nan and aunty to come out. When they did, mum ran into nan’s arms sobbing. The only word that came out of her mouth was “Dad!”.

When they got home, they found grandpa drunk passed out on a mattress in the living room.

After my Aunty Soana found out what happened, she stormed off to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. She turned and threw it at him, screaming “you f*cking bastard!” She was 11.

Aunty was hearty, a fighter through and through. Many respected her because of her fire. But I counter the misperception that her fire was just fierce ferocity.

Aunty Soana Joseph’s 49th birthday. Photo/Evelyn Nauer

In reality, love fueled her. American playwright Deborah Brevoort once wrote: “Hatred is love that's been injured. If you have hatred in your heart it means you have love in it also.”

Hence aunty throwing that knife stemmed from seeing the anguish on mum’s face.

Aunty Soana was a second mum to me. I loved hugging her. She smelled like retail perfume and cigarettes just like mum. She felt like home.

Aunty Soana (left) and me. Photo/Evelyn Nauer

Mum and Aunty grew up in a chaotic, abusive household. Grandpa frequently returned home in an alcohol-fueled state and raised hell.

They grew up poor, weetbix never had milk to go with it. With that experience, there’s very few lines you aren’t willing to cross to feel worth more than you ever had.

In her adult years, aunty was a sex worker, the money was good. One night, mum found out aunty was using hard drugs. Mum pleaded, “why?”.

Poverty’s symptoms can be exhibited in harmful ways. Photo/File

Aunty explained that she took P to cope with the trauma from her work. Mum convinced aunty to quit that life and she did.

For a long time, my aunt wanted a baby, but sadly she was not able to. Mum said it broke her.

Mum offered to be her surrogate but aunty declined, saying she wanted her own baby. Alternatively, mum set my older sister’s middle name to “Soana”.

Aunty adored my older sister, Olo’ipola Katrina Soana Leatinu’u, to the point my older sister once thought aunty was her mother.

Olo’ipola Katrina Soana Joseph, my older sister. Photo/Evelyn Nauer

In 2020, aunty passed away at Middlemore hospital. Her body had been too damaged by her coping mechanisms.

Before she died, Aunty unconscious on the bed, was kept alive by drugs while her health rapidly declined.

In a private room, the doctor, empathetic in his approach, advised us to pull the plug.

I saw mum’s heart break. Her voice cracked when she asked if there was still a chance to save aunty. He said it was unlikely.

Aunty was hearty, a fighter through and through, and many respected her because of her fire. Photo/Unsplash

Mum’s heart didn’t want to give up on her even when she mentally processed that it was for the best.

I convinced mum to do it, so she wouldn’t bear the “what if” behind that decision. Mum caressed aunty’s forehead, comforting her like she did with her own children.

Mum kissed her baby sister as many times as she could and whispered goodbyes. A tear rolled down aunty’s cheek as she slowly returned to Heaven.

Rest in peace aunty. Photo/Evelyn Nauer

I only experienced her true, loving side, but admittedly, aunty was very toxic and hurtful to others, especially in her later years.

But if the world abused and mistreated you your whole life, you’d likely be the rule, rather than the exception, like her.

This is not to justify tolerating toxic behaviour, but to advocate that understanding can beget forgiveness, and forgiveness can beget peace.

Like God told Kendrick Lamar in reincarnated: “every individual is only a version of you”.

If the world abused and mistreated you your whole life, you’d likely be the rule rather than the exception like her. Photo?Unsplash

In 2023, I talked about aunty to mum, sympathising with the pain of losing someone she loved so much.

Mum agreed but resigned, replying “it is what it is”, and that that’s life so we have to keep moving.

That’s what severe trauma does to you: stuff down vulnerability because you were never safe when vulnerable.

Mum also told me that she shares these stories with me so that I could capture them.

Therefore, in the privilege of being granted examples of deep love learned from people like mum and Aunty Soana, I write this for them because trauma inhibits their expression.

I write this for the babies in my family, so you know the nuanced shades of women I will always look up to and why.

The next generation. Photo/Unsplash

A lot of my people, especially wāhine, are vocal and strong in many ways. Mum and aunty didn’t grace many protest fields but navigated a treacherous field nonetheless.

This is to show you that “brown excellence” exists both on award stages and in the mud of a difficult life.

Home. Photo/Google Maps

I come from the hustlers, the hoodrats, the gang affiliated, the street workers, the misunderstood, where beneath those social constructs lies a deep strength and an even deeper ability to love.

Mum and aunty taught me that love and strength are inseparable, and that embodying one without the other is why idioms like “hurt people, hurt people”, exist.

I love you Aunty. I love you Katrina. I love you Nuanua.

March 8 is International Women's Day and recognises and celebrates women.

If you are a victim of family violence or in a relationship that makes you fearful about your own or anyone else's safety, seek help as soon as possible. You have the right to be safe.

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