Ko Mamari te waka, Ko Tare Keha te Maunga, Ko Hokianga te Awa, Ko Tu Moana te Marae, Ko Nga Puhi te Iwi, Ko Te Aupouri te Hapu, Ko Hemiora Campbell Hotere te Papa, Ko Bella Ngarongo Uerata/Hotere te Mama, Ko Jason Hotere Taku Ingoa.
My story started on the 1st of June 1966, youngest of 5 tamariki to James and Bella Hotere. Our house was in Avondale, Auckland, New Zealand.
My mother worked hard, loving/caring/devoted, never judging and such a servant heart. On the exterior, the hard don’t mess with momma woman.
My father was a jack of ALL trades, from Truck Driver to Mechanic to Carpenter/Sparky/Plumber/Painter/Roofer/Interior Decorator (as they would say today). He was a giving man, would never turn anybody away that needed help, did it to the extent where we were second fiddle, most of the time. He taught us as much as he could, and as much as he had been taught himself, discipline was with a stick and a slap. He lived in a world where they had to make up their fun, living on a farm in Mitimiti, with I think 11 maybe 12 brothers and sisters.
My Dad worked hard, and deserved his break when coming home, tell us to take his, smelly work boots off and have his feed, and a beer. But of what I remember mostly is that He’d come home late at night drunk as, and a start fighting with my mum. They would get into some real hard out fights and mum would tell us all to go to bed before Dad would get home. Dad would yell, mum would yell, dad would yell louder and mum would cry and sob. I hated those times.
Curled up on my bed, I’d cover my ears, close my eyes and wish the morning would hurry up, hoping Dad would not come into my room again and hit me, because I was crying too, waiting for morning, everything was always better in the morning.
There were times when I wanted to stop all the fights, the yelling and screaming, I did have thoughts of killing my Dad, because of how he treated us when he drank booze. Yes I did hate him most of the time, because most of the time he got drunk. When darkness was here, that was the time all hell broke loose.
Very few times he didn’t drink, those were the times we could enjoy him. The whole family would go out on the Commer truck or my uncles Bedford truck, stay out on Muriwai beach, or travel to Mitimiti or Waikato. Then we brought a Commer van, then we had a VF Valiant.
One time we had a Ford Prefect, hard case because we would have to get out and either walk up the hill and meet Dad at the top or push it up the hill, I remember those times, fun times. The only times I could get a hug from Dad, was to cuddle up to him when he was sleeping, after his hard night of drinking, being fully aware, that if he was to wake up, get out quick.
You had to live tough in my Dads days, to days kids will never know what tough living is. I don’t know what lifestyle they lived back then, but Dad did say, “we had our good days and some bad days”. Love, Security, Compassion, Hugs were things foreign to me. I was abused in a loveless environment, no hugs, no compassion and insecurity emotionally.
Going school, tried to be the boss. Everyone that knew me, knew they had a friend for life. everyone that didn’t know me, you were my enemy.
I didn’t go to school to learn, I just played sports and ate everyone else’s lunch.
My brother was friends with these christian guys, they knew me, but didn’t talk much to me.
They invited us to a Sports Camp, of which they wanted my brother to go to, but he couldn’t, he told them to ask me, our friends thoughts where, “Sweet Jesus I he comes there’ll be fights everywhere”, they were trying to convert my brother to Christianity, because I was too bad.
At school beautiful rusty haired pakeha girl saw through whom I portrayed myself to be, “this tough guy”, and we started a relationship. Here was my chance to Love someone, here was my chance to be with someone, who said to me, “I Love You” foreign words had just come into my life. All this Love that I have bottled up for so long is able to come out now. We went out for almost 5 years and she decided to leave me, I thought it was for another guy, but it was because I had suffocated her with too much love, she needed to live her life too, this is what I didn’t understand.
My life was over, Dad was abusive when drunk, my Mum, to make ends meet, had to work 2 jobs, my brothers and sister never really cared about me, and now the only person to say the 3 words I had been waiting so long to here, leaves me.
I decided to do what most young people do when they think there is no way out of this broken situation, Suicide.
I had a Rambo knife and stuck it to my chest, and cried to Jesus, “If you are real, Jesus, show me now, because I’m out of here”, right then our phone rang, it was my friend, called to say, “Bro I was a sleep and Jesus woke me up, and told me to call you, Is everything alright?”.
I said “No” and told what had happened. He came around to my house and asked me if I wanted to follow Jesus, to have him in my heart and world, I answered yes and on the 26th of November 1989 I committed my life into His hands.
I now live in Auckland, with a beautiful woman that loves Jesus more than she loves me, we have 2 beautiful girls and after traveling the world for many years with a team of Strongmen and Woman, both Physically and Spiritually. Performing strength feats, and speaking in front of millions of people. Telling them about my life in New Zealand and how Jesus has changed this Hori to a top shelf Hori. I am proud to be Maori, but I have taken on my Fathers heritage, I am a believer in Christ, Jesus is my Iwi now and Heaven is my Hapu.
As for my Dad, He passed away on October the 3rd 2007 with Cancer, but on the 2nd of March 2007, he to asked Jesus to be the Lord of his heart, and received the precious gift of salvation.
Tena kotou, Tena kotou, Kia ora tatou katoa.