Walkerton

Sweet water

Sweet water

‘Water sustains us, flows between us, within us, and replenishes us. Water is the giver of all life, and, without clean water, all life will perish.’—Assembly of First Nations “No human being, no animal or plant, can live without its water,” says Dawn Martin-Hill, co-founder of the Indigenous Studies program at Hamilton’s McMaster University. For centuries, the Unist’ot’en people have called Wet’suwet’en territory in British Columbia home. Their way of life is such that they can drink straight from the pristine Morice River (Wedzin Kwah) that flows through their land. Last year, construction began on the Coastal Gaslink Pipeline, posing a direct threat to the Morice. “We call it sweet water,” said Martin-Hill. “We had that everywhere. We had it here in Ontario.” “You know it when you’re drinking it. I’d rather have sweet water over running water.”

Former Neskantaga contractor accused of cutting corners in other First Nations

Former Neskantaga contractor accused of cutting corners in other First Nations

“They cut corners every day, every day,” said Justin Gee, vice-president of First Nations Engineering Services Ltd. Gee said he encountered these recurring problems while overseeing the work of a construction firm, Kingdom Construction Limited (KCL), building a water treatment plant 10 years ago in Wasauksing First Nation, along the eastern shore of Georgian Bay, about 250 kilometres north of Toronto. “You have to be on them every step of the way,” said Gee, who was the contract administrator on the project. “You can’t leave them on their own.”

Oneida Nation of the Thames tap water different than neighbouring non-Indigenous communities

Oneida Nation of the Thames tap water different than neighbouring non-Indigenous communities

ONEIDA NATION OF THE THAMES — Jennifer George’s home sits on a gravel road that separates this Indigenous community near London, Ont., from the neighbouring township of Southwold. On George’s side of the road, virtually no one trusts the drinking water that flows from the Thames River to their homes. Many have the same 18-litre blue jugs that line the floor of George’s kitchen, ubiquitous sources of water for drinking and cooking.

In 2000, Walkerton’s poisoned water ruined his life. He decided it was time to end it

In 2000, Walkerton’s poisoned water ruined his life. He decided it was time to end it

His legs had wasted away. Numbness in his fingers made it impossible for him to write or button a shirt; he opened bottles of painkillers with his mouth. He was losing sight in his right eye; the hearing in one ear was already gone. He’d leave his home only every two weeks, strapped on a gurney to be transported to the Queensway Health Centre for an intravenous immunoglobulin treatment. He went for the last time in late April.