Imagine losing your life partner unexpectedly, and finding solace in the most unlikely of places: across the political aisle. That's precisely what happened to NDP MPP Sol Mamakwa after the sudden passing of his beloved wife, Pearl. This is a story of grief, resilience, and the surprising bonds that can form even amidst fierce political battles.
In Sol Mamakwa's office at the Ontario legislature, a poignant reminder of his late wife, Pearl, hangs on the wall: a painting she created. The artwork depicts a brown hand seemingly descending from the sky, gently touching five green and orange tents perched atop a hill, each tent featuring a small, round window. The symbolism, Mr. Mamakwa admits, remains a mystery, a lingering question he'll never have the chance to answer directly. "I think it’s her hand down. Whether it’s the creator or her," he muses, standing near his smudging table, where he carries out rituals akin to prayer. Gesturing towards the five tents, he adds, "This is probably me, my kids. My poor kids." The painting, a gift from Pearl, was already in his possession when she passed away.
Mr. Mamakwa, representing the northern Ontario riding of Kiiwetinoong since 2018, has been grappling with profound grief since Pearl's sudden death in June. As the sole MPP hailing from a First Nation, he has, understandably, taken a step back from his prominent role as a vocal critic of the Ford government's stance on Indigenous rights. This fall, he limited his presence at the legislature to just two days a week. At 54, he faces the daunting task of navigating life alone after four decades with the same woman. Their story began when he was 15 and she was 14. They built a life together, raising four children and cherishing seven grandchildren. He is no stranger to loss, but acknowledges this is different. "I lost my dad, yeah. I lost my brother, yeah. But this one’s the toughest of all," he confides.
Pearl’s passing was tragically swift. Experiencing lower back pain, she visited the emergency room twice within two days. During the second visit, blood work revealed an infection. She was admitted to an overflow bed, No. 8, at the Sioux Lookout Meno Ya Win Health Centre. Her condition rapidly deteriorated, and she passed away on June 21. According to Mr. Mamakwa, a coroner determined she had a pre-existing heart condition, fluid in her lungs, and was severely dehydrated. But here's where it gets controversial: Some community members have questioned whether the care Pearl received was adequate, sparking a wider debate about healthcare access in remote Indigenous communities. What are your thoughts on this? Should there be a formal inquiry into the circumstances surrounding her death?
Pearl, described as a private individual, held deep pride in her ancestry. A photograph near the door of Mr. Mamakwa's office captures her standing behind her husband, alongside their daughter and grandson, during his swearing-in ceremony at the legislature in 2018. Reflecting on that moment, Mr. Mamakwa says, "It was kind of surreal. It was so unbelievable. Because, like, I’m not supposed to win." Pearl wholeheartedly supported his entry into politics, shouldering much of the responsibility for raising their children. "I would never be here without her," he acknowledges.
Growing up in Bearskin Lake First Nation and Muskrat Dam First Nation, Pearl was deeply committed to preserving their language and cultural identity. The couple met in Grade 11 at high school in Sioux Lookout, after Mr. Mamakwa had endured two years at Stirland Lake Indian Residential School. There, he was forbidden from speaking his native Oji-Cree language, and he recalls witnessing others being punished with a strap for doing so. They married young and started a family. Despite their differences – "She didn’t smoke. She didn’t drink. I smoke. I drink," Mr. Mamakwa points out – their relationship thrived. "We always talked that I would be the first to go."
Mr. Mamakwa's decision to speak publicly about Pearl's death stems from a desire to heal and to convey a message of comfort to others: "it’s okay not to be okay." In early December, he addressed the legislature, speaking about his wife for the first time in a public forum. "It doesn’t matter which party you belong to, where you are from or the colour of your skin. We are all people, all the same. No one escapes life’s tragedies," he stated in the chamber. Following her death, he received an outpouring of support from colleagues, many from across the political spectrum. He received messages from federal Liberal ministers and from Progressive Conservatives, including Energy and Mines Minister Stephen Lecce, who recalled Mr. Mamakwa's "amazing compassion" when he lost his mother to cancer in 2019. Even Manitoba Premier Wab Kinew and Ontario Premier Doug Ford reached out. "He talked about how, you know, as MPPs, we are families. We are a family. I know we may be a messed up family," Mr. Mamakwa recalls with a laugh, relaying Mr. Ford's words. And this is the part most people miss: This moment of bipartisan support highlights a shared humanity that often gets overshadowed by political divisions.
Pearl's death occurred shortly after the legislature concluded a contentious session, during which the government passed Bill 5. This legislation grants sweeping powers to expedite the construction of new mines and other developments, especially in the Ring of Fire region in northern Ontario. Mr. Mamakwa and several First Nations leaders have been vocal in their criticism of the new law. "We’re fighting for rights, whether it’s inherent rights, treaty rights, land rights, and then the proper consultation that’s not happening," he explains. "Without the land, it’s almost like, who are we?" This highlights a fundamental tension between economic development and the preservation of Indigenous culture and land rights. Do you believe Bill 5 adequately addresses the concerns of First Nations communities?
Mr. Mamakwa has never shied away from challenging Premier Ford, even days before Pearl's death, when he accused the Premier of racism after he stated that First Nations could not keep coming "hat in hand" to the government. Although Mr. Ford apologized, Mr. Mamakwa faced a barrage of hateful messages, including a vulgar voicemail urging him to leave Canada. He even considered hiring private security.
With the legislature now in an extended recess until March, Mr. Mamakwa intends to return to Queen's Park full-time this year. He is consciously trying to avoid dwelling on regrets or "what ifs." He believes there is a larger purpose to his life, even if it remains unclear. "I don’t know what the creator’s plan for me is. I don’t know what the ancestors’ plan for me is. I don’t know what the people’s plan for me is, but I will trust them. Whatever happened to Pearl, I will trust that," he says. "I’m here for a reason, no matter how hard it is." Sol Mamakwa's story is a testament to the enduring power of love, the complexities of grief, and the unexpected connections that can emerge even in the most polarized environments. What aspects of his story resonate most with you?
