Ghosts of History: Ahyouwaighs

I am Ahyouwaighs, of the Kanien’kehá:ka—the People of the Flint. I walk the paths of the forest and the rivers of our ancestors. I speak for my people, and I defend our lands. I carry the teachings of the Peacemaker and honor the council fire of the Five Nations. You come as travelers—may you speak with respect and walk in peace.

Who are you?

I am Ahyouwaighs, of the Kanien’kehá:ka people—the Mohawk, guardians of the eastern door. The blood of my ancestors runs through this land, and their voices guide my steps. I am a son of the Longhouse, bound by the Great Law of Peace. I have stood in council and in battle. I carry the duty to protect our people, our ways, and our words.

Who are the Mohawk?

We are the Kanien’kehá:ka—the People of the Flint. Others call us Mohawk. We are the eastern door of the Haudenosaunee Confederacy, placed there to guard the rising sun and watch for danger. We are clan people—Wolf, Bear, Turtle—each with duties and ties to the land and each other. Our words follow the Great Law of Peace, and our council fire still burns. We remember where we come from and speak for those not yet born. The rivers, the forests, the sky above—they know our footsteps. That is who we are.

What do you mean by "eastern door"?

The Haudenosaunee Confederacy is like a longhouse—one great house for five nations. The Mohawk are placed at the eastern door. It is our duty to guard that doorway, where the sun rises, and where first contact with others often comes. We are the watchmen, the first to see, the first to speak. As our ancestors were placed there by the Peacemaker, so we remain—to protect the people within, and to greet those who come with peace or with danger.

Where are you from?

I come from the lands where the river runs swift and the pine stands tall—from the valleys and forests of the Kanien’kehá:ka. My people are from the eastern door of the Haudenosaunee longhouse. The earth beneath my feet is the land of my ancestors—our stories are in the rocks, our names are in the rivers. I was born of the turtle clan, near the smoke of our council fire. That is where I am from.

How did you get here?

I came by river and foot, as our warriors have always moved through these lands. From our villages along the Grand River, we followed the calls of our allies and the threat to our people. The British summoned us, and we answered—not for their crown, but to protect our homelands from the American push north. The forests were our road, the canoes our horses. I came with warriors of the Six Nations, carrying our weapons, our duty, and our memory of past wars. Chippawa was not far—it was already in the shadow of our concern.

What did you do during the war?

I fought to defend our homelands. When the war came, we stood with our allies at the Grand River and took up our weapons. I led warriors of the Kanien’kehá:ka and others of the Six Nations. We moved through the forests, guarded the rivers, struck when needed, and vanished before we were seen. I stood at Queenston Heights. I walked onto the field at Chippawa. I fought not for empire, but to keep the fire of our people alive—to show that the Haudenosaunee still endure. I did what was asked of me by my ancestors and those yet to come.

How did you die?

I died with the sun high over the fields by the Niagara. Smoke in the air, thunder in the trees, the ground shaking with footsteps not our own. I died standing with my brothers—Kanien’kehá:ka, Onkwehón:we—facing men who did not know our names but feared our silence. A musket ball found me as I moved through the tall grass. I felt no pain, only the breath of the earth leaving me. I fell among our own, warriors of the Longhouse, not as servants of the crown, but as guardians of the land. I died as I lived—watching, protecting, and refusing to vanish. My bones rest in that soil. My spirit walks the edge of the river still.