Ngavii Pekapo’s wardrobe is full of what he calls his “kōrowai”, his gang patches.
“It’s really your passport, that’s basically what this is – it connects your whole family. It’s not just about me, it’s about my wife, my children, my grandchildren,” he said.
Fifty-four years ago, he established the Central Hawke’s Bay chapter of the Mongrel Mob. It is one of the country’s oldest chapters, and over those years he has seen a lot. But nothing compares to this – a complete ban on gang patches in public.
“I can’t see this lasting unless they have a budget to lock fullas up in jail, which I think is absolutely stupid, really it’s ludicrous,” Pekapo said.
“Patches have been around for 65 years, then you get these so-called politicians who come in and want to make a ruling on it – that’s the sad part.”
He worried now the ban was being enforced, things would turn violent, as he doubted many of the younger members would obey it.
“It really is going to be a big problem ... and this is for any ethnic group, for the brothers to lose their gears ... they’re going to erupt and someone will pay for it.
“You can’t get another culture to tell us how we have our tangis ... that’s one thing they have to understand. If there’s anything to do with our culture, we will don our kōrowais.”
Police ‘salivating’ over new laws
A last-minute change to the legislation extends the gang patch ban for those who have been prosecuted for breaching it three times, making it so they are also banned from wearing the patch at home.
It also gives police increased search powers so they can go into gang members' homes to enforce it, if they suspect the gang member has insignia at home.
“If someone does get caught, it’ll be expected that they defend their patch, so who knows what will eventuate,” O’Reilly said, the day before the law came into effect.
“I think there are probably policemen who are salivating at the thought of midnight and ready to engage in some score settling ... I think some particularly younger gang members, will gleefully accept their challenge. So I’m worried about that.”
He also felt apprehensive about how the police raids would be carried out.
“I’m worried about the wellbeing of whānau. Both gang whānau and police whānau.”
But assistant police commissioner Paul Basham told RNZ that was not the case.
“It’s part of our community impact assessment ... looking at what any unintended consequences might be when we go on to an address and that includes unintended consequences of our other family and/or children,” Basham said.
“We have a job to do. We want to be certain about the way that we go about that enforcement. But the idea that we would be kind of reckless and [use] some sort of bully-boy tactics around these sorts of warrants – it is certainly not my intention, and I think that’s highly unlikely.”
But that was not reassuring gang whānau, Ngavii Pekapo’s wife Joy said. A lot of them are talking about the recent Ōpōtiki raids, where mothers and children were traumatised, Joy Pekapo said.
“That’s the main concern. We have a lot of ladies who are setting up huis, to discuss how can we attack this new law they’ve brought in on our men,” she said.
“We are involved whether we like it or not, we are part of them and so are the children.”
O’Reilly fears there will be similar scenes to the infamous Tūhoe raids in 2007.
“Young people seeing their dad, their granddad, their uncle, their mum thrown on the ground and abused ... that sets in motion a hatred and a fear and an apprehension that can become inter-generational,” he said.