‘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.”
A century of water: As Winnipeg aqueduct turns 100, Shoal Lake finds freedom
The taps to Winnipeg's drinking water were first turned on in April 1919, but as the city celebrated its engineering feat and raised glasses of that clear liquid, another community's fortunes suddenly turned dark. Construction of a new aqueduct plunged Shoal Lake 40 into a forced isolation that it is only now emerging from, 100 years after Winnipeg's politicians locked their sights on the water that cradles the First Nation at the Manitoba–Ontario border. "The price that our community has paid for one community to benefit from that resource, it's just mind-boggling," said Shoal Lake 40 Chief Erwin Redsky.