Part 3
Among Vatulele women, kehakeha or the printing of traditional motifs on plain masi fabric, is perhaps the most artistic and detailed stages of tapa making.
While masi planting and beating of the harvested bark can be done by both men and women of Vatulele, when it comes to printing, the women are the sole experts.
Kehakeha requires the placement of traditional designs or motifs (known as vamata in the Vatulele dialect) on the plain sheet of masi using either black or brown natural dyes.
For traditional masi designs, two colours are used – brown and black, the latter being the principle dye.

Picture: FIJI MUSEUM
The brown dye used is extracted from boiled mangrove bark. Boiling takes a day or two, depending on the heat of the fire.
A mixture of bark and water is first boiled and sifted to remove any solid residue. The strained liquid is then boiled continuously in an open fire until it thickens up like jam. Once, the required viscosity of boiled dye is reached, it is taken off the fire and put in special containers.
Black dye is obtained by mixing mangrove dye and carbon soot, obtained through the process of incomplete burning. To collect soot, a metal drum is inverted over a burning kerosene lamp that produces suffocating black and thick smoke.
Sometimes the fruits of native trees are also used to produce the colour black.
“To ensure natural dyes stay long on the masi after printing, they are mixed with grated clay,” Vaulina Matebula,83, said.

shares her experience with
masi while growing up
during the colonial days.
Picture: JOHN KAMEA
Today, stencils of traditional motifs are cut out of X-ray films in a process called vamata, a term that also means the actual traditional motif itself.
Not long ago women used dried up wet carton sheets to make stencils.
“Some women’s first experience of vamata and kehakeha involved the use of carton sheets but in our days we used dried pandanus leaves,” Matebula added.
“We’d store voivoi leaves in a coiled bundle and use them to cut out the vamata during printing.”
Each vamata or motif has a name and is kept with some level of secrecy. It is commonly regarded as sacred symbols.
Some common vamata used by the women of Vatulele are boro coko, bonu, bati ni qio, bati ni tadruku, sinu dodo, na ivutu, vutu veisaumaki, matava, vatuvuca and vatadamu.
The motifs used in masi making have a close resemblance to designs found in old Lapita pottery and on tattooed body parts of ancient Fijian women.
The designs were two-dimensional and largely symmetrical and geometrical. They were a series of repeated lines, curves and dots. In some places, animals and plants were used to tell a story of a tribe’s connection to the flora and fauna.
Some experts believe the designs on masi represent a type of ancient “textual language”. The designs relayed a story or an important message or indicated status.
This knowledge was meant to be passed on only through female bloodlines. It was also taught by specific female clan members.
Communicating knowledge and skills pertaining to masi making and printing was therefore regarded as a taboo.
By keeping information within a clan or tribe, the protection and cultural continuity of that heritage art is ensured and its survival is guaranteed.
On Vatulele, women from others parts of Fiji are taught all the skills of masi-making as soon as they get married into any of the four villages on the island – Ekubu, Taunovo, Bouwaqa and Lomanikaya.
However, they were not allowed to teach anything they learned outside the island.
“Teaching any aspect of masi-making outside Vatulele was a taboo. If a woman did she would develop a mysterious swelling in the stomach (bukete vatu) which required her to seek forgiveness from the chief through the presentation of a soro,” Ekubu villager, Litia Tubailagi, 70, said.

making as an art. Picture: JOHN KAMEA
“That’s how much masi was important to us. It was more than just a piece of art and traditional fabric. It was revered and sacred.”
Different types and sizes of masi are used for different events or purposes. It can be used on the topmost layers of mats and called vakamalumu and used as dabedabe or butubutu (specially prepared mats and masi for guests to stand or sit on)
It can also be worn during weddings, meke (indigenous dances) and other traditional ceremonies. It is used as a wrapper during rituals associated with births, deaths or funerals.
Sheets of masi fabric are glued together to make large masi sizes called gatu or taunamu ni Viti.
“I now use wood glue to join masi pieces but before we used a batter of kerosene mixed with normal flour which used to attract plenty of rats,” said Joana Masau.
“The earliest glue we used was the par-boiled fruit of the yabia, which look like small potatoes.
Today, the art of masi-making is slowly undergoing change, giving way to the demands of commercial sales which have dictated designs, masi composition and processes.
While women were once the primary producers of masi, it is now largely a family event on Vatulele, bringing together members of the household – the young and old, men and women and youths and children.
Children are taught the basics of bark beating and printing from a very young age. They are also given menial jobs to do like fetching water from the well or clearing up the workplace.
Apart from planting, men also help their wives to beat the bark of the masi plant or tutu.
“Because the order for masi keeps coming, everyone takes part to meet demands. Families’ livelihoods demand on it,” said Maca Ratubuli of Ekubu.

“Men have strong muscles so they help in the bark beating process. Everyone helps so that masi is printed on time and sold to buyers. Money earned from selling masi keeps us going, it puts food on the table.”
When 83-year-old Matebula was growing up, tutu was done only during special occasions. Preparing masi took a while because each stage was done thoroughly.
Today, tutu is done six days a week without fail.
“Our masi was the pride of the island. It was pure white and talked about throughout Fiji,” Matebula said.
“I remember when Ratu Sir Penaia Ganilau once visited the island, it took us months to prepare the masi he was to talk on. We spreadsheets of masi from the beach where he got off right to where he entered the house. Visitors who came couldn’t stop talking about the masi they saw,” she said”
“To have that same masi and attract public admiration, we made sure each process was done nicely. This meant that each stage took time. Now, because of commercial demands for the art, women do all the steps that took us months to complete within a day or two.”
As trade and commerce continue to place a demand on Vatulele islanders’ way of life, the ancient ways of preparing masi will slowly slip away from the fingers of its women and girls. While they will have the opportunity to practice producing old work of art, the fine techniques may slowly fade.
However, one thing is for sure, the sound of tutu, or the beating of the paper mulberry tree bark will amplify and the sound of wood against wood will always greet every visitor to the island.
There are sounds that are unwanted and become noise. But the sound of bark beating, though strange to visitors will never be equalled and undesired.
For as long as lives continue to depend on the masi, the domo ni tutu, the heavy thud of the ike on the yatua, will always be around, now and in the future.
- History being the subject it is, a group’s version of events may not be the same as that held by another group. When publishing one account, it is not our intention to cause division or to disrespect other oral traditions. Those with a different version can contact us so we can publish your account of history too — Editor.