Remember YOUR "small keed time"?
Those were the good old days! YOU were young, innocent, naive and maybe even a little bit "kolohe" (rascal). When you look back, I bet you cannot help but grin, yeah? I bet you can just feel a longing oozing up inside of you for a time when life was much simpler. Wherever you live now, if you grew up in Hawaii, you must remember your "hanabuddah days". Eh, no shame ... we all had "hanabuddah".
Eh … right now get choke stories already online written by Hawaiians and Hawaiians at heart. Most all writers had the unique life experience of growing up in Hawaii. That’s why the site is called ”Hanabuddah Days”.
Enjoy these personal stories.
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Written by Mokihana White
In ouah side yahd, up Mânoa Valley, get plenny kakaroaches. Anybody who wen live in Hawai'i know how bad dem buggahs stay. At night, all u gotta do is turn on da light an ho, alla kakaroaches run foah hide. In da cupboards, in da cracks in da flooah, in closets, everyweah! Dey so uglee an from small keiki days I stay sked of dem.
Dis one time, dey wen get so bad dat my mom an dad wen decide to get some kine kakaroach killah company foah come out an spray alla da yards foah kill da kakaroaches
Read more: Da Kamikaze Kakaroach
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Written by Kamaka Brown
It took us almost four hours on a two-lane road to get from Waimea to Palolo Valley in my father's '52 Plymouth. Most of the ride I spent sleeping in the large back seat of the sedan. My head began to nod as we drove past the undulating green waves
Read more: The Country Cousin
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Written by Ronny Esperas
I lived in a neighborhood where the corner market was the place that you came in contact with other people from the neighborhood. It was a place where everyone knew each other, not only by name, but they knew your kid's name, their mother's and
Read more: The Wilder Store Bench
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Written by Daylynn Kyles
When I look back, there was so much stuff my Dad did for us kids. Till today, I still can outclass many men at building things. I'm not a Tita, but my dad didn't raise a dummy either. I learned to build things with my dad. I was his "tool girl". I
Read more: Daddy's Girl
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Written by R. Mapuana Cottell
I am thankful to the Lord above for many things. I am glad that He saw fit to bless me with a husband who loves me enough to want me home with these two precious kids of ours. I am thankful that I was given the opportunity to be born to two island
Read more: Hula on the Brain
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Written by Helene Fernandez
Growing up with Grandma and Papa in the 70's was the best. Papa worked as a foreman for a steel or iron works company. Not too sure the name of the company. Grandma stayed at home and did the house stuff. Mom and Dad were divorced. Mom lived close
Read more: Grandma and Papa’s in Palolo Valley
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Written by Serina Cornelio
We just got back from da beach and my dad made all us kids line up in da front yard. He was going shoot us down with da water hose (da water was freezin) to get all da excess sand off of us before we got to go in da house. When we got in da house my
Read more: Da Cockroach in Da Armpit
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Written by Helene Fernandez
Forget about the evictions and all the media propaganda surrounding Sand Island in the 70's. I am unable to recollect the legalities of the time when my Grandparents lived at Sand Island, but camping out or "living" at Sand Island, from what I can
Read more: Days and Nights at Sand Island
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Written by R. Mapuana Cottell
My tutu has always been the type of person to take charge of everything. He's never been very good at remembering names. Instead of trying to remember, he'd just classify us into two groups- boys were "Louie" and girls were "Lucy."
My cousins and I
Read more: The Governor of Namilimili Street
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