What does a brain-eating amoeba have to do with Hawaiian sovereignty?
Part I

A week ago today my nephew, Lono Nihoa, died because an amoeba, known as naegleria fowleri, ate his brain. Sounds like a sci-fi movie. But this rant is not about the amoeba, but about my nephew, and how it was that his life, so dear and vital to his family and his community in Nanakuli, could pass with hardly any notice.

Lono Nihoa, 44 at his passing, was the genuine nice guy, almost the stereotypical Hawaiian man, gentle and kind to family, friends, and neighbors. He took care of the needs of the people around him with few complaints and sometimes minimal funds. He seldom asked for anything, preferring to share his limited resources with those who had no resources of their own, or nowhere to go. It was like that on holidays--Christmas, New Year's, birthdays, weddings, funerals. He was the man who fed, in numerous ways, those around him. He was a good guy and I miss him dearly.

Lono was born on April 3, 1965 in Honolulu. He was the eldest of ten children and, at a very young age, took on major responsibility for his younger siblings. His father passed away, himself, at around the same age, and his mother (my sister) was charged with raising ten young children as a single parent. Times were rough. The family lived at Waimanalo Beach park at the time of the Waimanalo evictions in 1986, when Hawaiian issues were being raised in the minds of the general public. Sovereignty was not a commonly-heard word. The most pressing issue of the times was the displacement of Hawaiians from ancestral lands. The rallying cry at the time of the Waimanalo evictions was "Keep Hawaiian lands in Hawaiian hands," and the evictions pointed out to the government and the public that Hawaiians were willing to occupy lands and push the issue about landless Hawaiians into the spotlight. Land occupations were one of the earliest steps in calling attention to the dispossession of Hawaiians in their own homeland. Na Maka o ka Aina, Puhipau and Joan Lander, videotaped many of the early struggles, including the Waimanalo evictions, and for any who have seen this particular video, it was an emotion-packed scene where one young girl says "Where we goin' live? We no mo house!". There were several other children standing around this young girl (now an adult), including my nieces and nephews. By virtue of being Hawaiian and living on the beach, they became part of the struggle.

Stay tuned for Part II