Traditional Māori medicine

The ex-florist has a balm, spray, cream or tincture to help everything from a painful new tattoo to arthritic aches, stress, trouble sleeping, or a sore throat courtesy of the latest virus. 

“I was 39 when my grandmother died, so I had a 39-year-apprenticeship,” she says. “I lived with my koro and nan in a tin hut in the bush till I was five. No power, no running water. Koro would bring different pieces of rākau (tree) and plants home and tell me what they were used for, whether it was medicinal, used to trap birds, whether it was kai.”

Her green-fingered nan and great-nan taught her to grow flowers and herbs and would occasionally dab her with homemade salves. They also instilled respect for tradition and ritual, so Joyann is mindful of  the maramataka (lunar calendar) and her own mood when harvesting plants. 

These lessons were absorbed on the same land where she resides today, with husband Barlow and their three children. Daughter Waipiro, 15, has developed a range of bath salts, lip balms and her own Stay Glossy brand and website alongside her mother. Sons Pohatu, 22, and Barlow, 12, often venture into the bush to harvest kawakawa leaves, tūpākihi twigs and bark from the manono tree.

“Manono is amazing, it helps the body regenerate skin really quickly. I’ve seen it work within 24 hours on a huge graze on my son’s knee. It’s also really good for pain; Tūhoe have always used it for broken bones.”

Other rongoā experts have been generous with their information. Years of trawling library shelves, used bookstores and the internet have helped the former Ōpōtiki College head girl collect knowledge and plants from other cultures, too. So kānuka is combined with eucalyptus to create a chest rub for winter ailments. Koromiko is mixed with calendula to prevent and treat nappy rash or eczema.

“I’ve been drawn to plants all my life. A lot of what I do is intuition first, then research to make sure it’s safe.” Joyann began selling rongoā while still operating her florist shop. However, it was her own health issues that drove the launch of Soul Time.

In the wake of several personal tragedies, including the stillbirth of baby son Tata Iraia, the anxiety that had been plaguing her ramped up several notches. Her mental health dove to the point she was near suicidal and became briefly addicted to the pills that were supposed to help. 

In response, she quit the shop and began trading from home. The whenua soothes her – “I just know where I belong, like an umbilical cord” – and so does being in the bush, stirring a pot, pressing oil. It holds some healing options, too. Tātarāmoa (bush lawyer) plant helps with both anxiety and sleep. Kawakawa tea helps lower her blood pressure during times of stress.

The place, the plants and some extra help from an acupuncturist, counsellor and mirimiri (massage) therapist combine to keep her well. “Now I can turn my mind, that chatter, off.”

Trade is brisk and her balms have found their way into health packs for the local iwi authority and north to the public health agency in Auckland. One week, she filled 2,500 jars.

A new, larger earth-walled studio is under construction, with space for the workshops she plans to host. Joyann already runs workshops off site and hopes to create a rongoā Māori programme for schools.

“My passion is helping people, really. But a huge part of why I do what I do is to honour my grandparents and my great grandparents. Not just their teaching about rongoā, but also their way of being and their care of the land. 

“My grandmother lived in the house we’re in now. I was her world and she was my heart. It makes me feel close to her, doing what I’m doing.”