Opinion
I've spent most of my life entrenched in a community of smoking, from my whanau and friends to social groups and workmates. It was pleasurable, soothing, social and I loved smoking with my whanau community. It's no wonder smoking became our social norm.
When New Zealand talks about its Smokefree 2025 goal, what we really mean is the reducing rate of smoking among Māori (currently 31 per cent) and Pacific people (22 per cent). As a Māori woman who smoked, I fell into the hardest-to-budge category, of 35 per cent current smokers.
From my teenage years onwards, every social occasion followed a pattern. If we were celebrating, I would prepare by making sure I had a new packet of cigarettes and new lighter to take to the event, and a spare packet for later. I didn't think of the health risks; I was excited to be with my whānau on a special occasion. It was about whanaungatanga and cigarettes were part of the experience.
When it was a sad gathering, such as a death or illness, I'd prepare by doubling the number of packets. There'd be one to have on me, with another new lighter, and a couple of packets to throw in the glovebox of my car. At those times, cigarettes felt like a comfort blanket for my whanau and I.
Smoking cigarettes calmed and soothed the mind, stabilising insecurity when the loss was so great. This is what the nicotine addiction does for every puff you take.
It wasn't just about gatherings; cigarettes were always there.