One hundred years ago, Molokaʻi kupuna ʻOpuʻulani Albino's great-grandfather and his 'ohana left Waikapū, Maui, to be among the first Hawaiian homesteaders in Hoʻolehua. They and other early families overcame many obstacles, helping to pave the path for the success of Hawaiian homesteading across Hawaiʻi.
"They first had to prove they could grow and make it a land where farming and homesteading would flourish without water,” Albino said. “That was a challenge."
After the Hawaiian Homes Commission Act was signed in 1921, spearheaded by Prince Kūhiō Kalanianaʻole, the first homestead was established in Kalamaʻula, Molokaʻi, the following year. Two years later, the project expanded to the Hoʻolehua-Pālāʻau area as Hawaiʻi's third homestead settlement after Keaukaha on Hawaiʻi Island.
“The water that was here turned foul, and actually they had no water, because when the cattle came, the land was just demolished,” Albino explained.
The area had already been earmarked for expansion of cattle ranching, according to Albino. She says when her ʻohana arrived, the land was barren with no trees, only pili grass and lantana. There were no buildings or infrastructure, either.
In addition, journals from early homesteaders, who had been recruited from across Hawaiʻi, relate that they were sometimes treated as intruders by those from Molokaʻi.
“This kupuna, Mr. Palapala, would get his big old truck, and he and his wife would go get water from Kaunakakai, drive all the way up to Hoʻolehua to each home to deliver drinking water,” Albino said, sharing what we mother had told her. “So this is some of the activities they did in order to come together.”
Albino's ʻohana was instrumental in bringing water back to the area and along with it, thriving agriculture, while also helping others and gaining the respect of their host island community.
"One of the miracles that I believe was performed by these pioneer elders to solve the problems — when the water had turned sour, some of the people died — the elders got together and they prayed and prayed, and then they found from the people who lived here, Molokaʻi's own natives, that the land at a certain place at a heiau… it was cursed because of the ancient cultural activities of the people that lived in that area,” she explained.
After lifting the curse, “they literally walked the rain back to Hoʻolehua,” Albino continued. “So for three days and nights, the rains fell. And from this time forward, all of their crops… were abundant.”
“They made the place that we know as Hoʻolehua, through many challenges, they made it bloom like a rose,” she said.
A lot was at stake with these early Molokaʻi homesteads as the pilot projects.
Kilia Purdy-Avelino’s tutu from Waimea on Hawaiʻi Island was among the first to be awarded a lease in Hoʻolehua in 1924.
“Had they not been successful, we would not have Hawaiian homesteading today,” explained Purdy-Avelino.
Around the time of the overthrow of the Hawaiian Kingdom, Albino says Hawaiians were being pushed off their land and Prince Kūhiō fought to establish Hawaiian homesteads to ensure the survival of future generations.
“They were dying because you take a Hawaiian off their land, you're going to kill the Hawaiian because that's the thing that fed them,” she said.
Today, nearly 2,000 Hawaiian homesteaders live on Molokaʻi — mostly in Hoʻolehua. They honor Kūhiō’s legacy and the early homesteaders who fought to flourish despite the challenges.
Last weekend, Hoʻolehua homesteaders celebrated 100 years since the first wave of the homestead community arrived between 1924 and 1926. The event was hosted by the Ho'olehua Homesteaders Association.
Poʻokela Napoleon performed a mele called "Nā ʻĀina Hoʻolehua" that she wrote with her sister to honor the moʻolelo of the area's wahi pana.
Members of Hawaiian royal societies led the community in draping lei over Prince Kūhiō's photo in celebration of his birthday, and Ho’olehua ‘ohana told stories of their homestead histories.
Albino's ʻohana now has seven generations on Molokaʻi.
“It's a comforting thought to me that all of these original pioneers to Hoʻolehua as well as Kalamaʻula still have descendants who are living on the homestead, and they still practice that same aloha for each other and the ʻāina,” she said.
Purdy-Avelino's ʻohana's Hoʻolehua farm continues to thrive, and she says using homestead land to its full potential is one way to honor the past while laying the foundation for the next generations.
“The best thing we can do is keep putting our hands to the soil, keep growing food, keep planting — and if we can make our own economics, an economic base off of our homesteads, I feel like that's what Kūhiō’s vision was,” said Purdy-Avelino. “But it wasn't just about living in a home. It was about putting your hands in the soil and rehabilitating us as a people — the ʻāina is what makes us who we are as Hawaiians.”
