Indigenous MLA Á’a:líya Warbus Speaks on the National Day for Truth & Reconciliation
Reflections on land, treaties, unmarked graves, and the future of reconciliation in British Columbia.
National Day for Truth and Reconciliation is meant to be a day of reflection—on what has happened, where we are, and what reconciliation demands of us moving forward. For Indigenous MLA Á’a:líya Warbus, that reflection isn’t about easy answers. It means stepping into the most controversial conversations of our time, from unmarked graves in Kamloops to Aboriginal title rulings in BC.
“As Indigenous people, we’re caught up in the fray of how politics gets played—how stories are framed, how fear is stoked, and how it benefits one side or another. But these aren’t just political debates. They’re about our kids, our land, and our future.”
The Treaty Process and First Nations–BC Relations
Before entering provincial politics, Á’a:líya worked in the treaty process with her community. What she saw left her questioning how BC engages with First Nations.
“It always felt as though we’re at the table waiting for government. We’re waiting for that approval and that stamp to say, here’s the process, here’s how we’re going to fulfill the needs of the process, and this is when it’s going to be up to the standard of what the government of the day says it needs to be.”
She recalls how painful and drawn-out the process became.
“Getting everybody to those tables was just as painful as the process itself, which has been going on for 20 years now. I did notice pieces of fraying—missteps, missed opportunities, grievances not being solved—and the communication was really starting to dwindle.”
For Á’a:líya, the deeper issue was access: Indigenous leaders were too often left without a direct line into how provincial and federal governments actually made decisions.
“What worried me is that it always felt as though our people didn’t have that direct line into how government makes decisions. It felt like we were always waiting for government.”
The Unmarked Graves Story
Since May 2021, when the Tk’emlúps te Secwépemc announced ground-penetrating radar findings of 215 anomalies near the former Kamloops Indian Residential School, debate has swirled. For some, it became proof of Canada’s darkest chapter. For others, it was evidence of media exaggeration.
Á’a:líya has little patience for those who make the story their crusade.
“You can call it a pursuit of truth, but honestly—is that the best use of an elected person’s time? We’re burying our nieces and nephews from overdoses. Families are in crisis. Yet some choose to make their passion picking apart residential school narratives.”
Her message is simple: remember the human cost.
“I look at my five-year-old daughter and think of parents who had their children taken. Some never came home. That’s our reality. So when people obsess over the word ‘denier,’ I ask: why? What’s the real motive? Is it to move reconciliation forward—or to make Canadians feel less guilty?”
The Cowichan Tribes Decision
In August 2025, the BC Supreme Court recognized Aboriginal title in Metro Vancouver through the Cowichan Tribes case. For many British Columbians already struggling to afford housing, the timing added fuel to an already volatile debate about land and ownership.
Á’a:líya acknowledges the weight of the ruling but insists context is critical.
“There are layers. There’s a federal layer, there’s a provincial layer, there’s the Indigenous to Indigenous relation layer, Cowichan and Musqueam, and then there’s a civic layer, and then now we have this private property fee simple layer, right? And the fact is for me that BC has sewn its own complicated garden, and now it’s ripe for picking.”
She places responsibility squarely on the Crown, not Indigenous people.
“That’s what they signed on for was to settle the land question. But now it’s our fault. This is Canada’s responsibility. This is BC’s responsibility. Indigenous people are caught up in the fray and the fro of how people play politics with it, how they decide to frame it because it’s beneficial to them, how they decide to skew the actual potential outcome of something that hasn’t happened yet.”
And for Á’a:líya, the legal foundation is beyond political spin.
“We stand on a constitution that is homemade in Canada, that actually cannot be changed, and case law that has set precedence that’s out of your hands and my hands and every politician that decides to comment on it at the moment.”
Reconciliation in Canada
For Á’a:líya, reconciliation is not about slogans. It’s about recognizing that Indigenous people are part of the same fabric of life as everyone else in British Columbia.
“Understanding that as Indigenous Indian Act bands we’re just as much a part of the ecosystem as any municipality... we drive on the roads, we go to the grocery store, we put gas in our car... we use all of the resources just as much as anybody else around us. And the fact is inside of our bodies is the heart and the blood that every single person has. And we all kind of want the same things.”
She also worries about how politics and media use reconciliation as a wedge.
“One of the things that I struggle with is that people play politics with some of our deepest, most important issues. And that’s just how the game is played, is what I’m learning. Things are said a certain way because they know that it’s going to spark a lot of controversy... when the application of the law and the legislation attached and the conversation happens with those specific communities, guess what? It’s just like that example of reading something on paper and then meeting them in person. People talk a big game behind a keyboard... and then you meet them in person, they’re all smiles and handshakes.”
Standing Firm on Hard Conversations
Whether it’s land title rulings, contested graves, or the politics of reconciliation, Á’a:líya says the most important thing is simply being present.
“We need to be there to weather those things, those storms, those misconceptions ourselves. Because the further away that we are from the conversation... we need to be in those rooms to start to kill those conversations and not kill them with hate and negativity, but with knowledge and kindness and patience.”
For her, reconciliation is about honesty, diversity, and protecting the next generation.
“Indigenous people are diverse. We don’t all belong in this one box of one party… but what we share is a history of loss, and a determination to make sure our kids don’t inherit the same struggles.”