Tania Roxborogh held launch events for the sequel to Charlie Tangaroa and the Creature from the Sea at Te Kura Toi Tangata in Hamilton on Thursday evening and Scorpio in Christchurch last night. In her launch speech she explained the role of Tūmatauenga, atua of war, and Whiro, atua of darkness and deceit, in Charlie Tangaroa and the God of War and in the world right now. Here it is, in full.
Tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou katoa.
Kāore ārikarika aku mihi ki a koutou i tēnei ahiahi.
Ki te mana whenua, ki Ngāi Tahu, ki Ngāi Tūāhuriri, tēnā koutou.
Ki ngā kaiako, ngā kaitiaki pukapuka, ngā hoa, ngā kaimahi o te reo,
me ngā kaiwhaiwhai pukapuka, tēnei taku mihi nui ki a koutou katoa.
E mihi ana au mō tō koutou aroha me tō koutou tautoko
mō tēnei pukapuka, mō tēnei kaupapa.
Nō reira, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā tātou katoa.
Thank you all for being here to help me celebrate with my amazing publishers, Huia, the launch of Charlie Tangaroa and the God of War. It was conceived and created during the most tumultuous time in my living memory—societal, political, educational, environmental. I would write something in my fictional story and then days or weeks later, it would happen in real life. My husband can attest to the fact that I wrote about a group of misfits taking over a town demanding freedom from the government—a whole six months before the Parliament occupation. The story kept expanding and I’m really sorry that Charlie had to go through all the things that happen to him in this book. But, he’s one helluva kid and I know that there are many more kids just like him: trying to stand up against the wrong; make the world a better place. And sometimes being an annoying tuakana. Poor Robbie.
Probably, a book launch isn’t the best place to say what I have planned to say tonight so I ask that you indulge me as I tell you why a story (like this one gifted to me) seems to be a mirror to what is happening in Aotearoa. I feel I can’t talk about this book and the story inside it without acknowledging the reality of what is happening all around us. So, I want to take this opportunity to give my reckons on what concerns me right now.
I feel somewhat powerless to effect change. The only weapons I have to use against the disturbing things I see happening in the world at the moment are my words; my stories. The characters who live inside my head. That’s my purpose eh? To be a word carver, a writer. To use this talent to highlight, entertain, encourage, warn, educate.
The only weapons I have to use against the disturbing things I see happening in the world at the moment are my words; my stories.
When I first started writing the novel, I thought I was mostly writing about Tūmatauenga—the atua of war but the more I got to know him, the more I appreciated why this atua is an essential member of the pantheon. What surprised me was the arrival of Whiro.
Whiro, the atua of darkness and deceit, has a way of bringing out the worst in people. He doesn’t act directly—oh no, that would be too obvious. Instead, he plants seeds of smugness, arrogance, and self-righteousness. He whispers to people like some of our more vocal politicians, convincing them they’re not doing anything wrong. That they’re just giving people a ‘choice.’ I never imagined such a small player would turn out to have such an influence in the story. Sound familiar?
And isn’t that exactly what’s happening with the Treaty Principles Bill? It’s a cunning piece of political theatre, dressed up as reasonableness, but underneath, it’s a deliberate attempt to dismantle everything we’ve worked for as a nation. It’s Whiro at work.
This Bill doesn’t just ignore the value of mātauranga Māori—it undermines it. It feeds on division, on the idea that recognising and honouring Te Tiriti o Waitangi is somehow unfair or unnecessary. It’s a classic Whiro move: shine a light on the wrong in people, stoke their fears and insecurities, and let them do the rest.
But here’s the thing about Whiro—he doesn’t win. Not in our pūrākau, and not in this book.
When I conceived of writing Charlie Tangaroa and the God of War, I wanted to explore the tensions that Whiro thrives on: between progress and preservation, light and darkness, justice and greed. Charlie’s world is fractured, full of competing interests and deep misunderstandings. And yet, he finds strength in his tīpuna, in his family, and in the knowledge that balance is worth fighting for.
Charlie doesn’t have all the answers. None of us do. But he’s willing to ask the hard questions: Who am I fighting? Why does this matter? And how do I protect what’s important without losing myself in the process?
It’s a cunning piece of political theatre, dressed up as reasonableness…
These are questions we should all be asking right now. Because the political climate we’re living in (the smugness, the division, the deceit)—it’s Whiro’s playground.
But we don’t have to play by his rules.
Mātauranga Māori teaches us to value connection, reciprocity, and kaitiakitanga. It reminds us that we’re all part of something bigger than ourselves. These are the lessons Charlie learns in his journey, and they’re the lessons we need now more than ever.
Because this isn’t just about a Bill. It’s about who we are as a nation.
Are we a country that listens to Whiro’s whispers, that tears each other apart over fabricated divisions? Or are we a country that listens to the voices of our tīpuna, that honours the balance between our past and our future?
Tania at her Christchurch launch at Scorpio Books
So, I leave you with this wero: Let’s reject Whiro’s influence. Let’s stand up for mātauranga Māori, for Te Tiriti o Waitangi, and for the stories that connect us to this whenua. Let’s be brave enough to speak out, even when it’s hard.
Because, like Charlie learns, the fight isn’t just about knowing who you’re up against, it’s about knowing what you’re fighting for.
Thank you for being here. Thanks to the support of Creative New Zealand. Thanks to Scorpio Books for being amazing hosts. Thanks to everyone for supporting this book, and for believing in the power of stories to help light the way for kids as they journey through even the darkest times.
Tania Roxborogh
Tania (TK) Roxborogh, of Ngāti Porou, Ngāti Mutunga o Wharekauri, Scottish, German and Irish descent, is an award-winning author of more than thirty published works, both fiction and non-fiction. The first book in theCharlie Tangaroaseries, won the Wright Family Foundation Esther Glen Award for Junior Fiction and the Margaret Mahy Book of the Year at the 2021 New Zealand Book Awards for Children and Young Adults.Taniais also a veteran educator, writing mentor, book reviewer and one of the judges for the 2025 Ockham Book Awards. She is currently working on a PhD researching ways to help teachers imbue the teaching of Shakespeare with mātauranga Māori.