Aloha mai kākou,
Ka Wai Ola carries many voices – stories of ʻāina, health, culture, business, education, and the world around us. At first glance they may seem separate. Yet together, they point us to a practice our kūpuna knew well: pausing to understand the purpose behind our actions and the collective future we aim to shape.
That reflection is guiding our work on one of the most difficult questions of our generation: the future of military land leases in Hawaiʻi.
The Office of Hawaiian Affairs (OHA) remains committed to a deliberate and focused approach to this issue. The Board of Trustees established dedicated working groups to investigate military leased lands and shape negotiating pathways forward – engaging the governor’s Military Advisory Committee, federal leadership, and Hawaiʻi’s congressional delegation to affirm OHA’s central role, while drawing on the expertise of stakeholders committed to Hawaiʻi’s collective wellbeing.
OHA has also prioritized community engagement. Meetings in Hilo, Māʻili, and Kekaha have focused on helping communities understand lease timelines, the Public Land Trust, and what different paths forward could mean. Upcoming meetings in Wahiawā, Kahuku, and Maui will continue this work.
What began as education is evolving into deeper consultation, including plans for Ka Paʻakai analyses to document impacts on Native Hawaiian cultural practices, water resources, and access to wahi pana.
What we are hearing reflects depth and diversity. Communities are raising concerns about unexploded ordnance, groundwater contamination, and the long-term impacts of destructive live-fire training. Others ask what restoration could look like through conservation, cultural access, or the return of lands once taken.
Expiring in 2029, these leases span thousands of acres across our islands – too interconnected for anything less than a comprehensive approach.
These conversations are not easy. For many, they carry generational memories of displacement, restricted access, and harm to ʻāina. That reality requires care and space for different perspectives, from those who envision continued military presence under stricter conditions, to those who call for its full cessation.
In moments like this, differences can be amplified in ways that suggest division. But what we are seeing is something more grounded: people showing up, asking informed questions, and engaging in a shared process of understanding. That is a form of solidarity worth holding onto.
From that place, empowerment takes shape in the work itself: investing in independent land valuations, documenting cultural and environmental conditions, and grounding decisions in both ʻike kūpuna and present-day realities. It means understanding the full range of options, including lease conditions and land return, and making decisions from clarity, integrity, and purpose, not fear.
At its core, this is about kuleana to these lands, to our people, and to future generations. If we remain grounded in that responsibility, this moment becomes not only about the future of military leases, but about how we, as a people, shape what comes next.
“I hoʻokahi ka manaʻo, i hoʻokahi ka puʻuwai. Be of one mind; of one heart.”
Summer Lee Haunani Sylva
Ka Pouhana Kūikawā | Interim Chief Administrator
