My family has lost land it once owned. For decades, doing research for kamaaina families who were trying to get their lands back or stop quitclaim actions, and working at a real property law firm sharpened my skill at reading and understanding how property is delineated using tax map key (TMK) numbers. This served me well as I researched the minutes of the Agribusiness Development Corp. (ADC) board meetings after the failed audit, and the University of Hawaii Economic Research Organization report detailing the corporation’s failure to fulfil its mission of diversifying agriculture.
Anyone visiting the ADC website sees that there are lands available for lease. A small farmer interested in leasing a particular parcel will quickly learn, if they click through, that the TMK numbers provided do not always match City and County of Honolulu property records. What recourse does a small farmer who wants to grow food to feed his family and the people of Hawaii have when faced with this kind of discrepancy?
Corporations with personal ties to the ADC board and to its director, Jimmy Nakatani, have testified to the value of the ADC. The minutes of the board meetings reveal a lack of objective criteria in awarding leases. We learn of leases being awarded because the ADC director knows the applicant, has visited with him and believes he is suitable.
One testifier spoke proudly of raising horses on ADC lands for the enjoyment of his family. How is this consistent with ADC’s mission of diversifying agriculture to serve the people of Hawaii? How do the small farmers who simply want a small parcel of land to grow food compete with the inside track that corporate leaseholders who know the director have?
Hawaii taxpayers are exposed to significant financial risk because of sloppy management and lack of due diligence by ADC executives. Not all lessees were asked to provide proof of liability insurance or some type of waiver of liability or an indemnification clause releasing the ADC/state of Hawaii.
So, in the event of a disaster on these leased lands, the ADC, and by extension, the state and all taxpayers, will bear the risk of liability. These are examples of more than just poor record-keeping: They reflect the grave financial risks that taxpayers face, without their knowledge.
There is a 2019 financial audit underway of the ADC, but it has stalled because the auditors are still waiting to receive crucial financial documents from the corporation. Inexplicably, no deadline has been set for submission. The ADC says it is trying to find the documents.
Gaps in information also emerge in the income summaries provided by the ADC. Lease payments, albeit small, from at least a half dozen Whitmore residents, are not reflected in the income summaries. Why? The story of Waiahole is also a cautionary tale of public water going to corporate agriculture and golf courses, with poor record-keeping.
To add insult to injury, the ADC is now threatening to levy charges to cover the cost of responding to requests for information that is not readily available because of its very poor documentation.
We crossed a threshold with the loss of life of three young people on the Whitmore lands supposedly “managed” by the ADC. The fire that exposed the criminal activity going on there prompted some security measures. Whitmore residents say it is still too little, too late.
Senate Bill 335 that proposed reforming the ADC has been deferred. That leaves just House Bill 1271 authored by Rep. Amy Perruso. It calls for dissolving the ADC and transferring all its resources, minus the director, to the Department of Agriculture. If we are serious about food self-sufficiency, regenerative farming, and ensuring that public land and public waters serve the public good, we must act now to address the decades-long failure at the ADC.
Thora-Jean Cuaresma is a community advocate and nonprofit leader in Wahiawa; she currently also is a legislative aide to state Rep. Amy Perruso.