Pepeha and mihimihi sit at the centre of how people introduce themselves in te ao Māori, yet they are also where confusion most often arises. As more learners, Māori and non-Māori alike, engage with te reo Māori, these practices have taken on new prominence and prompted important pātai (questions). What was often taught as a straightforward 'fill in the gaps' approach no longer feels appropriate or meaningful to many learners and educators.
This article attempts to bring clarity to that space, drawing on whakaaro from respected Māori practitioners deeply embedded in te reo Māori, tikanga, and education. It explores how pepeha and mihimihi are being understood today, and supports Māori and non-Māori to engage with them with greater confidence, honesty, and respect.
Interview Panel Biographies
Stacey Morrison (Te Arawa, Ngāi Tahu) is a highly regarded broadcaster, author, and national leader in Māori language revitalisation. With a career spanning television, radio, and production, she has shaped Māori and mainstream media while championing the everyday use of te reo Māori. She is the author of the bestselling My First Words in Māori and co-author of Māori at Home and Kia Kaha. A graduate of Te Panekiretanga o te Reo, Stacey’s work has been widely recognised for elevating te reo Māori within whānau, early learning, and public life.
Scotty Morrison (Ngāti Whakaue), also known as Te Manahau, is a leading Māori broadcaster, educator, and language advocate with significant national influence. Best known for his work on Te Karere and Marae, he is also the author of bestselling te reo Māori guides including Māori Made Easy and The Raupo Phrasebook of Modern Māori. A graduate of Te Panekiretanga o te Reo, Scotty’s contribution to revitalisation spans media, education, and public advocacy, earning wide respect for bringing te reo Māori into everyday spaces across Aotearoa.
Donovan Farnham (Ngāti Awa, Tūhoe), also known as Te Ahunui, is a Māori language teacher, licensed translator and interpreter, consultant in Māori-medium education, and author of Whānau. Educated entirely through te reo Māori from kōhanga reo to university, he is a graduate of Te Panekiretanga o te Reo and holds a Master’s in Māori Language Excellence. His work is grounded in revitalisation and Māori educational leadership across kura kaupapa, rumaki settings, and NCEA teaching.
Hēmi Kelly (Ngāti Maniapoto, Ngāti Tahu – Ngāti Whāoa) is a Māori language teacher, translator, author, composer, and resource creator. He leads Tautika Ltd and created Everyday Māori, a popular learning platform. A graduate of Te Panekiretanga o te Reo, his work focuses on Māori language revitalisation and translation. Hēmi is best known for A Māori Word a Day and for translating Witi Ihimaera’s Sleeps Standing, with community work that reflects his deep commitment to strengthening te reo Māori.
Pepeha and Mihimihi: Understanding the Difference
Pepeha and mihimihi are closely related, but they are not the same thing.
Pepeha is grounded in whakapapa. It locates a Māori person within a network of ancestral connections to people and places. Through pepeha, a person expresses where they come from genealogically, naming connections such as waka (ancestral canoe), maunga (mountain), awa (river), iwi (tribe), hapū (sub-tribe), and marae (communal meeting place).
As Hēmi Kelly explains, “We don’t create our pepeha. We inherit it through our whakapapa. No matter how far we live from those places, that right remains.”
Mihimihi, on the other hand, is about acknowledgement and relationship. It is the act of greeting, recognising others, and speaking to the context and purpose of a gathering. Mihimihi is responsive and situational. It changes depending on who is present, what has happened since people last met, and why people have come together.
Te Manahau (Scotty) Morrison provides his interpretation of the distinction simply: “Pepeha are more about yourself, whereas mihimihi are more about others.”
While pepeha can appear within a mihimihi, it does not always need to, and in many contexts it may be more appropriate for a mihimihi to focus solely on acknowledging people and kaupapa.

Image credit: Te Wānanga Ihorangi. Photographer: Stephanie Soh
Diverse Perspectives and Evolving Whakaaro
Pepeha and mihimihi, as we commonly see them today, haven’t always been used or understood in the same way. Across the interviews, a clear theme emerged: current approaches to pepeha have been shaped by movement, reconnection, and the reality of Māori and non-Māori gathering together in ways that weren’t always common in earlier generations.
Traditionally, pepeha were not fixed formal introductions or personal summaries. As quoted by Sir Apirana Ngata, “In former times a wealth of meaning was clothed within a word or two as delectable as a proverb in its poetical form and in its musical sound” (Ngā Pepeha a Ngā Tīpuna: The Sayings of the Ancestors). A pepeha could immediately reveal where a person was from, the histories or events being referenced, and the values held by that people. This is why the language of more traditional pepeha can feel different from what we commonly hear today. It relied on shared understanding rather than self-description.
Te Manahau explains that pepeha gained momentum during the Kīngitanga era, when Māori leaders travelled beyond their own rohe (region) to engage with others. In those moments, naming whenua, whakapapa, and authority mattered. “If everyone at a hui was from the same iwi, there wasn’t much point in doing pepeha because everyone’s would be the same” he notes. Pepeha, as we now recognise it, grew as a way of locating oneself when Māori began gathering across iwi and regions.
As te reo Māori revitalisation accelerated in the late 20th century, pepeha was often taught early and in simplified forms. Over time, educators began to notice the unintended consequences of applying Māori frameworks too broadly or too quickly.
Donovan Te Ahunui Farnham reflects on this shift through his own experience. In 2018, he released a pepeha template intended to help non-Māori express affinity with place without claiming whakapapa. While it was widely embraced, the discomfort it raised for some Māori forced a necessary re-evaluation of how pepeha is taught, who it serves, and where its boundaries lie. He goes on to say “We could put the shoe on the other foot. It doesn’t matter how many generations my whānau spent in Ireland or Scotland, I still wouldn’t try to make up a clan. I wouldn’t create a coat of arms in medieval Europe.”
Hēmi reinforces this boundary clearly, stating that "pepeha is a uniquely Māori way of identifying oneself through whakapapa, and should be reserved for Māori."
Rather than seeing pepeha as something non-Māori are excluded from, Stacey Morrison emphasises that mihimihi offers a safer and more honest framework for them to articulate their connections to land, whānau, and lived experience in Aotearoa. She also acknowledges that some practices have simply run their course: "Ko Air New Zealand te waka is outdated. Let’s leave that one in the 90s."
These evolving perspectives have also shaped how pepeha is taught. Stacey and Te Manahau intentionally do not introduce pepeha at the beginning of their classes, despite it often being one of the first lessons in many other educational spaces. Instead, they prioritise building trust, whanaungatanga, and emotional safety, which can take a while. As Stacey observes, “Sometimes you can see on people's faces, it's hitting a bit hard, that's when it's time to tread with care.” Pepeha, they note, can surface deeply personal questions around identity and belonging. “It’s an emotional journey for a lot of people,” Te Manahau explains, “and for some, it can be quite traumatic.”
Common Misconceptions, and How to Move Forward
As pepeha and mihimihi have become more widely used, a number of recurring misconceptions have creeped in. These are rarely made with bad intent, but sit within the wider context of language revitalisation, where simplified teaching, partial understandings, and growing non-Māori engagement have shaped how these practices are learned and applied over time.
Across the interviews, the following were identified as common misconceptions:
- Treating pepeha and mihimihi as interchangeable
- Viewing pepeha as simply a formal introduction
- Assuming a mihi or pepeha is learned once and repeated the same way forever
- Applying Māori pepeha frameworks directly to non-Māori identity
- Relying on templates without understanding what they represent
- Mixing landmarks from different rohe
- Choosing landmarks based on personal connection rather than whakapapa
- Treating pepeha as a performance, rather than a relational practice
What sits behind many of these misconceptions is not disrespect, but uncertainty: people wanting to belong, to acknowledge place, and to do the right thing without always being given the tools or context to do so well.
Pepeha is deeply tied to whakapapa. While the structure of pepeha varies across iwi, its foundation is always genealogical connection, not personal experience or length of residence. Even if someone has never lived in their ancestral rohe, or is still learning parts of their whakapapa, their right to express pepeha remains.
At the same time, context matters. In some settings a full pepeha may be appropriate. In others, a shorter pepeha or a mihimihi that focuses on acknowledging people and kaupapa may be more fitting.
Stacey reminds us that pepeha is not something to rush through. “Don’t rush through the bits just because you know them,” she says. “They’re names that need to be heard.” Its purpose is to allow relationships to be recognised, rather than simply reciting information.
For non-Māori, mihimihi is often the most appropriate place to speak from. Mihimihi allows people to introduce themselves, acknowledge mana whenua, and share their story without needing to claim whakapapa that is not theirs.
“It’s all about intent,” Te Ahunui says. Non-Māori took up pepeha with good intentions because that was once the guidance, but as whakaaro has evolved, so too must practice. “We try and shoehorn these kinds of structures into something that is Māori in its essence, and that doesn’t feel right.” Being clear about ancestral origins, where you were raised, and where you live now helps listeners understand your connections without confusion or overreach.
Hēmi encourages prioritising clarity over creativity. “I think it’s much better to be explicit and clear,” he says. “Metaphor and figurative language have their place, but they should be used sparingly and followed by plain language that explains what the speaker means.”
He offers the following example of a non-Māori mihi:
| He mea whāngai ahau ki ngā kai o te whenua nei, engari nō tawhiti ōku tūpuna. I heke mai rātou i Ingarangi e toru whakatipuranga i mua atu i ahau, ā, ka tau ki konei, ka noho i waenganui i a Ngāpuhi. Ehara au i te Māori, engari koinei ōku hononga ki tēnei whenua. | I have been nourished by the food of this land, but my ancestors come from afar. They arrived from England three generations before me, settled here, and lived among Ngāpuhi. I am not Māori, but these are my connections to this land. |
A simpler mihimihi might include:
| Nō Ingarangi ōku tūpuna I whānau mai au i Ahuriri I tipu ake au i Whakatū E noho ana au i Tauranga i raro i te maru o Mauao i runga hoki i te whenua o Ngāti Ranginui |
My ancestors are from England I was born in Ahuriri I grew up in Nelson I live in Tauranga under the shelter of Mauao and upon the lands of Ngāti Ranginui |
Rather than asking, “Am I allowed to say this?” a more helpful question may be:
“Am I being clear, honest, and respectful about who I am and how I belong here?”
Across all interviews, a shared understanding is clear: teaching practices should evolve with increased knowledge and greater understanding so that we can honour the whakapapa behind these practices and create more meaningful ways for learners to engage with them.

Image credit: Catherine Smith Photography
Whāngai: Between Belonging and Blood
Whāngai (adoption/fostered/raised by non-biological parents) experiences can raise important questions around how it is expressed through pepeha. While whāngai may be deeply embedded within a whānau or hapū through upbringing, pepeha remains grounded in genealogical descent.
Te Manahau notes that decisions about whether a whāngai may use certain whakapapa landmarks sit with the hapū or iwi, not the individual, and there is no single rule that applies everywhere.
Hēmi stresses being explicit about whakapapa, with whāngai relationships acknowledged through mihimihi. This approach honours both inherited whakapapa and lived experience, without causing confusion.
Marital connections can also be acknowledged clearly without confusion. As Hēmi notes, being explicit about a partner’s iwi (for example, “Nō Ngāti Tūwharetoa taku hoa rangatira”) recognises that relationship without implying whakapapa where none exists.
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The whakaaro shared is grounded in years of teaching and lived experience, generously offered by Māori practitioners and educators who continue to adapt their work to protect the meaning behind these practices. What comes through most clearly from all interviewees is that pepeha and mihimihi are not fixed formulas, but living practices that require intent, honesty, and understanding.
Article interviewer: Hamuera Tamihana
Article co-authors: Hamuera & Aroha Tamihana
Cover image credit: Te Wānanga Ihorangi. Photographer: Julie Zhu



















