If any person reading these vignettes suspects, or comes to believe any of these narrators might be them, or someone they know, or that the narrative is about them, whoever they may be, they are right. It is them, or a member of their whanau, hapu, or iwi. It is about them and hundreds like them. It is also about me and mine. It is about nobody, anybody, and everybody. It is about the voiceless, the silenced. It is about them and theirs. It is about us.