Singer/songwriter Pati in KA’A. (Photo: supplied)
Singer/songwriter Pati in KA’A. (Photo: supplied)

SocietyAugust 11, 2022

Proud to be a ‘little shit’

Singer/songwriter Pati in KA’A. (Photo: supplied)
Singer/songwriter Pati in KA’A. (Photo: supplied)

Pasifika women, their conflicting pressures and right to party is the stuff of KA’A, a showcase of original music and story-telling by renowned artist Pati. 

Translated from Samoan ka’a means “little shit”. It’s a term used to insult and guilt-trip young Pasifika women who Pati – formerly Disciple Pati – says “dare to say their opinions, have a fun night out, be comfortable with their sexuality and just live their lives for them”. 

To some extent I’m a proud ka’a too. My struggle with the word isn’t so much the judgement it’s packaged in, but how it’s used. Does being a ka’a make me less of a teine? Is the term used to silence and conform me to be the obedient, perfect virgin daughter of Samoa? When I say my opinion, am I being rude? Am I respectful? Am I arrogant? Am I confident? When I have a fun night out, am I thinking about whether my actions will embarrass my mum? Or am I living my best life? How much is too much? Where does the line of colonial influenced ideology begin and end? Curious to understand how Pati’s personal experiences embody ka’a for her, I went along to Basement Theatre for the opening night, in search of answers.  

KA’A showcases Pati’s impressive range, featuring brand-new original songs from the South Auckland-based singer/song-writer who announced to a full audience how she recently dropped ‘Disciple’ from her name because she is “not a holy girl anymore”. 

The show is presented by the Tuatara Collective, a company with a unique kaupapa that intertwines healing and the arts. Our night began with an offering of mental health support post-show if anyone needed it. And, even as a member of the choir Pati preaches to, I was not prepared for the emotional rollercoaster KA’A had in store.

For Pati, being explicit and unapologetic about her experiences isn’t new. In 2021, she channelled her “violent inner sadist” in the single Serious, a response to sexism in the music industry. Online, Pati is hilarious, honest and sexy, garnering a large following on various social media platforms. She speaks openly about challenging the patriarchy while dealing with unrealistic pressures to conform as a queer brown woman. 

In KA’A, Pati explores these themes further, highlighting the push and pull she feels from a range of stakeholders including family, the wider Samoan society, the music industry, and fellow Pacific women.

Pati’s band eased us in with a soulful number. Guitarist Mahaani Maiava, bassist Stewart Longtime and drummer Tearataua Tavioni played in dim lighting while the KA’A poster projection faded to reveal Pati herself behind the screen. She emerged from violet light, her voice and the band’s jazz tone captivating. Any nerves were either disguised or nonexistent, as she sang about being pushed out into the unknown on her own. Throughout the show, she exuded the same confidence that earned her Best Pacific Music Video in 2021 for The Boy Who Cried Woman. Wearing brown cargo pants and a pink and blue bikini top, Pati appeared relaxed as she sat on a stool, centre stage. She looked at home.

After introducing her band and cracking a few jokes, she commenced her story. From trying (and failing) to dodge an insistent friend keen to get drunk, to a few “katas” drinking in the park at night, Pati’s words were parallel to a video that played on a screen to her left. With a cast made up of friends including comedian Bubbah, singer Joanna Mika and Vaimala Carolyn Baker, she held full agency over what we saw; and it felt like a privilege to see her world from her point of view so intimately.

As the show went on, she returned to her stool to check in after each song and continue her story. We listened. Vulnerability and self doubt were constants. Pati sang about leaked nudes, feeling like a disappointment to her loved ones, called out misogynists, and the misplaced judgement of the faifeau’s daughter. Each song performance and composition were unique. She danced between the sounds of her upbringing influenced by her musical father, soulful funk, a catchy jazz beat and rock, all injected with her own rage and emotion. At one point she knelt on the floor and belted a trapped cry and at another she swayed her hips and cheekily threatened to steal another man’s girlfriend.

KA’A presents an impressive nine song set of varying genres, including a cover of Beyonce’s Flawless, replacing Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s commanding voice defining feminism with that of Hana Seiulu Fepulea’i, soothing us in Samoan as Pati performed a short Siva, honouring her Samoan heritage near the end of set. 

Pati invites the audience into her realm and her conflicting experiences as a young, Samoan woman. Through her music we see she is multifaceted, sharing her precious vulnerability and frustration in the same breath. KA’A is a refreshing project from the artist, and a complete body of work that shows us being a ka’a is so much more than being a little shit.

KA’A is on at the Basement Theatre, Auckland, until tomorrow night (August 12).


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