ʻĀina Momona describes a land that is rich, abundant, plentiful, sweet, and fat. It is a land that abounds in and produces much food. We see this in the word ʻāina itself. While often translated as “land,” in it we have the word ʻai, which also means “to eat” and refers to both food and kalo. Thus, in the Hawaiian worldview, ʻāina is not merely land, but land that is healthy, and land that feeds and nourishes.
Would we consider our lands today to be ʻāina momona? Kailua was once known as a land of abundance. Springs and freshwater streams flowed through the valley of Maunawili, pouring in and out of loʻi kalo, wetland taro fields, and emptying into Kawainui fishpond, which was teeming with life.
Fast forward to 2007, when the land at Kapalai that Hoʻokuaʻāina currently stewards was completely overgrown with invasive weeds, California grass over six feet tall, and trees so thick it was impossible to walk through. There were no loʻi, no kalo growing, and certain areas had even been used as a dumpsite. And yet, the ʻāina and spirit called out, and with the dedication of an ʻohana and the help of thousands of community members, Kapunawaiolaokapalai, the living and life-giving spring of Kapalai, has been restored to once again be an ʻāina that grows food as well as people.
In 2019, we produced a little over 25,000 pounds of raw kalo on just over three acres of land here at Kapalai. This is one small plot of land in one ʻili ʻāina (smaller land division) of one ahupuaʻa on the island of Oʻahu. Can you imagine what might happen if we began to restore the thousands of acres that are currently overgrown and neglected, even just on our small island? Think of the amount of food that could be produced and the number of kanaka (individuals) and families that might be restored in the process.
From a Hawaiian perspective, true waiwai (wealth) is not measured in money but in the abundance of healthy land and thriving people. ʻĀina momona is the foundation of waiwai because it produces food, sustains families, and nurtures community well-being. When the land flourishes, so do we, and the value created is shared among all. To cultivate waiwai is therefore to mālama ʻāina and each other, ensuring that our prosperity is collective, not individual.
When we consider the issues our communities face today, how might the restoration of ʻāina and the subsequent restoration of the kanaka who are called to be its stewards help to address, or even eliminate, many of these challenges? In addition to growing more food, how might we make our island home more momona in ways that benefit the collective and not just the individual? If we call Hawaiʻi our home, then we all have the kuleana to care for and mālama this place. Let us catch a vision for what that might look like as we work together to cultivate and steward abundance.
The lesson of ʻĀina Momona reminds us that the health of the land and the health of the people are inseparable. When we restore ʻāina, we restore ourselves, our families, and our communities. It challenges us to ask: What would it look like for ʻāina to be thriving and healthy? What can our community do to help our ahupuaʻa, moku, and mokupuni to become more momona? What can we as individuals do to help the ʻāina to become (or remain) momona? By reflecting on these questions and taking action, we begin to embody our kuleana and live into the abundance our ancestors knew was possible. True waiwai comes from the flourishing of the land, the well-being of the people, and the harmony that binds them together.








