I’ve been trying my best to write what I hoped would be a memorable tribute, long-lasting and meaningful, not only for the family of Senator Tuana’itau Fa’atamala Tuia but for generations of American Samoans to come.

But no words are really fitting, nor any thoughts close to what I wanted to convey. Yet just today, while sharing with my husband the grueling past few weeks I’ve endured in the nation’s capital and what I’m sure our entire island has been lifting up in prayer, he said to me sweetly, “Sina, you are your father’s daughter.”

Instantly, I am reminded of what I always remembered about my Vaie’e, Safata, Upolu-Uncle, when he would excitedly remind me, “You are truly Si’ulagi’s daughter.”

Though a long-time statesman representing the interests of Tutuila and Manu’a, he never forsook his humble Safata roots and always reached out to his Upolu kin. I remembered his commitment to assist my Dad and congregation in the building of CCJS Fagatogo’s church in the mid to late ‘60s; it was his construction company that made it possible, the then-unique structure, first of its kind in the territory, with its multicolored stained-glass windows in which the church was called, “Reflections of the Cross” (O ata lafoia, ole Satauro.)

The brilliant politician with the foresight of what’s in the future for American Samoa and self-governance to elect their own leaders, was also one of the first natives with a natural acumen for business that encouraged so many of our people to venture out on their own. 

Everyone who knew him well would agree, he had an incredible sense of humor to boot, he would later tell me that up until the final hours of the church dedication, the carpenters were still putting the finishing touches to our church. He joked that perhaps, my Dad didn’t raise enough money with the church bingo that as a devout Mormon, he would rib my father of enforcing the Principle of Tithing to the congregants without having them depend on luck!

One of my memorable official encounters with him was when I was a local hire for FEMA during the mudslides of 2003. He came in the Fale Laumei to make his claim as FEMA brass directed people of his caliber to me, he sits down and says wryly, “O iloa e tagata e le o oe se sitiseni o Amerika, o oe ole Safata mai Upolu?”

Do people here know that you are not a US citizen, you are from Safata, Upolu? I laughed and replied, “Ia na Safata ia, alii Uncle, ae o lea e faigaluega ile FEMA? Even if I’m a Safata, Uncle, at least I work for FEMA!

He enjoyed that and said, “You have a mouth like your Dad’s!”

Like my Dad, he never hesitated to show his displeasure and disappointment in things I’ve done or said.  Of all of my Dad’s many relatives and close friends in high official positions, he was perhaps the most honest— one of my biggest cheerleaders and even greater critic.

My eldest brother went to thank him at his Speaker’s office when I finally got a government scholarship in 1988 to attend law school, something that took a lot of wrangling and tough decision making as competition for graduate education funding went to the best of the best back in the day, he told him, “Fai ia Sina e fa’amaoni ma ‘aua le fa’ama-ina tatou.”

Tell Sina to be honest and not to shame us. Returned home in ’91 with deepest dismay to my family and loved ones for not achieving what I set out to do, the old man saw me at the Fono building while I was trying to look for a job. He had this to say, “I will not help you get a job, Sina, you had all the opportunity in the world to achieve the type of degree that can get you a job anywhere. In your negligence you deprived another Samoan youth of that chance.”

Though painful, it was a lesson well learned and I realized, only people who truly love you can be most bold and most honest.

I’ve always strived to make him and all my family proud since that dreadful failure in my past. When I saw Minnie on the road in the first week of the new year as she came out of church in Pava’ia’i and I, on my way from church in Leone, she remarked with a great deal of emotion, “Sina, thank you so much for making my Dad proud.”

I returned to DC humbled and honored, that this great giant with Vaie’e, Safata roots would give assurances that any hardships and challenges I have endured while so far away from home, I am not forgotten and that I am still loved.

Will miss you terribly, Uncle Tua, manuia lau malaga!

(Samoan daughter, Sina Solomona Tilo is based in Washington D.C. and works for FEMA)