Editor,

Tonga quietly buried one of her most influential scholars and visionaries when they laid Ilaiasi Futa –ki- Ha'angana Helu to rest at Telekava cemetary in Nuku'alofa this week. Quietly, that is, for someone who has had a prominent role in shaping Tongan society over the last half-century.

Futa, as he's known locally may have been the founder of the ever-fledgling 'Atenisi Insitute and University on the swampy western fringe of Nuku'alofa, but for those of us who came to know him well, he will forever be the scholars' scholar, the tutor to a nation, a mentor to the growing Tongan intelligentsia, an authority on Tongan arts culture, and a humble but courageous critic of Tonga's powerful elite.

His legacies are too numerous to list, such was the breadth of his personal interests and skills. But he will always be remembered as someone who not only enjoyed sharing his vast knowledge and experience, but he was witty and an entertaining story-teller as well. Simply put, Futa was enjoyable and sought-after company at all levels of Tongan society. The majority of the academics from all over the world who came to lend struggling 'Atenisi Institute a helping hand may have done so for professional and altruistic reasons but more often than not, they did so as personal favours for someone they liked and admired.

I remember him best for his ability to make the most complex concepts comprehensible in Tongan as well as in English. By the time I was a third former at Tonga High School, it was almost impossible to complete a sentence in Tongan without throwing in an English word or phrase – because English was so much easier to explain things "foreign" to Tongan sensibilities. Tongan was inadequate for about 70 percent of what occupied an average day at Tonga High School. It wasn't until I heard Futa speak Tongan that I was able to appreciate that common Tongan can be spoken and used in a way which connects, enriches and pleasant to hear all at once – and without one word of English for convenience. One of Futa's gifts which will remain with Tonga's intelligentsia for years to come was to raise the status of the Tongan language so that it is now a medium for "academic-speak" and therefore relevant in today's world. It had to happen that Futa's unique lilt and delivery is an established 'Atenisi alumni trademark and often referred to as speaking "educated" Tongan.

I was fortunate to have been part of a small group of 5 or 6 extended family members who went to see him weekly for extra maths tutorial soon after his return from Sydney in the early 60s. We were all struggling with Algebra and Geometry because, like all subjects at Tonga High School, it was taught only in English and at that time, by a New Zealand Phys Ed teacher who filled in for about two years while we were waiting for a real Maths teacher to be found.

As Futa switched seamlessly from English to Tongan and back again and threw into the mix a new Tongan vocabulary in maths that was probably invented on the spot for our benefit, little did we know that this was to have been the origins of the night classes for public sector employees and subsequently the high school and eventually the 'Atenisi Institute. My maths improved but I was drawn more to his ability to use the Tongan language to explain maths, chemistry and physics in a way that I had never thought possible. And when he found out that we were also struggling with Shakespeare's Macbeth in the fourth and fifth form, he was able to explain the context of an English tragedy alongside Tongan everyday life so that we began to feel, rather than just read Shakespeare.

I spent part of 1971 at 'Atenisi teaching English at the high school and watched Futa the teacher at work and at play. It is to his credit that in spite of the most spartan and primitive environment for studying or teaching anywhere in the world, and drawing its students from a pool who came to 'Atenisi as the school of last resort, he was still able to produce scholars who went on to do exceptionally well overseas. In the evenings, the kava circle was also our Tongan music classes – first the theory followed by the practical application which also doubled as entertainment for everyone.

Growing up in Lotofoa, Ha'apai in the 1950s Futa's name was synonymous with high academic achievement and the bar was already raised to a very high level. Futa's successes at Tonga High School was the stuff of village one-upmanship and was used by just about every family to push their children to do better at school. His rebellious traits – wearing his hair long, a cultivated unkempt look and constantly challenging school authority - was legendry and the stuff of village gossip. When the Lotofoa primary school that Futa used to attend was seen as unlikely to produce little Futas, some of us were bundled off to adjoining Lifuka Island to attend what was seen as the best primary school within reach. Futa was responsible for a generation of Lotofoa kids who were separated from their parents at around ages 5 or 6 to improve their chances of following in his footsteps to Tonga High School. But success was few and far between. By the time I met up with Futa in person for the first time in 1961, there were only six or so of us from the village who had made it – three of them from the Helu clan, and the rest of us, related of course, because Lotofoa, if you go back far enough , was one big extended family.

To have Futa's funeral service at the Wesleyan Centennial Church in Nuku'alofa was asking for comments and questions to be raised. He would not have been the most willing church-goer and would only attend if invited to speak. In one of my last visits to take him out for a meal, he could not come because the local women's church group, which his late wife Kaloni was a member of, had beaten me to his door. On a subsequent and my last visit, we joked about our shared agnosticism and both with wives and families who were committed believers.

He may have come to church in death but he wasn't exactly quiet about it. His children, who organised the service, slotted in a recording of Futa as an tenor singing one of his favourite Italian songs. It was a full-throated performance that Tonga will no longer be able to see and hear. It took me back to the early 60s when he was a novelty item at outdoor concerts around Nuku'alofa introducing opera style to the masses – only to be mocked by people who expected Lotofoa's foremost to do more for his country than sing "O Sole Mio" for his supper. His love of the arts in all its forms, was the driving force for The 'Atenisi Foundation for Performing Arts (AFPA) which incorporated classical European and Tongan music and dance to offer Tongan artists and performers a peek at the possibilities.

At the final night of his wake, I happened to share the evening with friends Pete and Dr Eve Coxon from Auckland University in New Zealand who took their family to Tonga to work at 'Atenisi in the late 80s and kept in touch with Futa until his passing. We could only reminisce with fondness and with the greatest regard for someone whom we realised would be impossible to replace. We had always known that it would come to this but it was difficult to take in nevertheless. It was around midnight when we finally decided to go and see Futa for the last time. He looked distinguished and unusually smart with a crisp shirt, a jacket and tie. Obviously the "nima tapu" appointed by Princess Piloleva who was fahu on this occasion, have done a very good job. His hair was combed out in his distinctive style as you have expected. On our way home we agreed that he knew that had it not been for the large quantity of his favourite tipple which we consumed earlier in his honour, we would not have had the courage to come and say goodbye.



Sefita Hao'uli

sefita [dot] haouli [at] gmail [dot] com