On a recent Sunday, Waiʻanae residents responded swiftly to an altercation of a man beating a woman at a gas station off the Farrington Highway during a slam poetry event.
One resident yelled into a microphone, ordering them to stop. At the same time, another person was already on the phone with emergency dispatch.
The recent shootings on the Waiʻanae Coast have residents on high alert. Some said their community has never experienced this severity of violence.
HPR spoke with several community members who described Waiʻanae as close-knit, family-oriented and scrappy.
Tiana Wilbur, a Waiʻanae Coast neighborhood board member, recounted her days growing up with clusters of community events, including carnivals, beach barbeques and hallelujah nights. She thanks her parents for keeping her engaged while raising her with morals and values.
"Culturally, that's where we're grounded is in our moral compass and in our values that are passed on from generation to generation," Wilbur said.
'Wild West'
Waiʻanae is known for its rugged mountains, deep valleys and pristine beaches. The coast stretches 13 miles from Nānākuli to Mākua. Waiʻanae was given its name for its abundance of mullet fish, which was once farmed in the area. The neighborhood has multigenerational families living in older plantation homes, which are largely untouched by development.
Wilbur said Waiʻanae is where the most aloha comes from. However, the neighborhood has been stereotyped as the "Wild West," where all the fights happen.
When she was 6 years old, Wilbur witnessed two men fight in a parking lot and then apologize right after. She said that's how it was supposed to be.
"Pride has become so prevalent today where we have too much of it, and we donʻt apologize and make amends," she said. "That needs to come back because resorting to taking lives and resorting to someoneʻs life being less than yours is not the solution."
A recent spate of violent crimes — many involving youth — has prompted town hall meetings on the Leeward side.
Nānākuli High School student Jeremiah Magallones, 17, said he was taught to stand up for himself. He was 11 when he got into his first fight after being bullied.
"We used to shake hands, hug, and we made everything right by hoʻoponopono," he said. "Hoʻoponopono means to make things right. After that, he's my best friend to this day."
Magallones joined the Hānai Kaiāulu, a student-led nonprofit dedicated to reducing food waste through education. His motto is "Culture connection is addiction prevention."
If he wasn't participating in community work, Magallones said he would still be out on the streets past 4 a.m.
"I tend to focus on the community work instead of making bad choices because it sets a goal for me," he said.
Planting the seed
Residents have said there's not one cause for the increase in violence in Waiʻanae. The issue is complicated.
Some blame the COVID-19 pandemic for the disconnect of the community. Others list alcoholism, lack of community engagement, rising costs of living and more.
While nonprofits, churches and other community groups provide an abundance of resources, many say the challenge is getting the word out to the youth in a way that interests them.
"If the kids don't have a supportive, extended family, they're going to rely on social media or the streets to educate them," said Eric Enos, executive director of Kaʻala Farm, a cultural learning center.
Enos said it's important for the younger generation to have ʻāina-based education to reconnect them to their cultural roots.
This month, the voyaging canoe Hōkūleʻa spent a week at Waiʻanae's Pōkaʻī Bay Beach Park.
Kaina Holomalia, one of Hōkūleʻaʻs captains, grew up in Waiʻanae. He said the neighborhood used to be safe enough to leave the doors unlocked.
While growing up, uncles and aunties in the community would watch over the kids to ensure they stayed out of trouble while their parents were at work. However, Holomalia said family members have since aged or passed away, and that caretaking role was left vacant.
Holomalia first stepped foot on Hōkūleʻa in 2001. He said getting involved with the sailing canoe kept him out of trouble.
"Luckily for me, it planted a seed in me," he said. "I was surrounded by positiveness with Hōkūleʻa that nurtured that seed."
With the recent shootings, Holomalia said the issue stems back generations.
"If I had junk teachers around me that nurtured bad intentions, I could have come out totally different," he said. "It's not this generation that's pulling the trigger, it's the ones before."
As Hōkūleʻa sits still in the calming waters of Pōkaʻī Bay, Holomalia said it's a reflection of the Waiʻanae community.
"How some of the uncles will describe the West Side to you is that it's a reflection of yourself," he said. "What you put out gets magnified back."
