Museums in the 21st century are slowly making amends for their acts against living spirits of Indigenous ancestors.

Western, largely European, curators did not understand - or show interest in - the cultural implications at the time, but the Manchester Museum in 2019 finally realised the error of their ways.

They apologised before repatriating, at last count, at least 174 Anindilyakwa objects.

Peter Worsley, who died in 2013 aged 88, traded with the Anindilyakwa people that live across three separate islands not far off the Northern Territory eastern coastline – but the Traditional Owners of Groote Eylandt, Bickerton Island and Woodah Island, did not fathom the deal was a permanent arrangement.

It was never made clear what the descendants from 14 clans that make up the Anindilyakwa got out of the trade.

The Anindilyakwa by 2023 were in negotiations and directly responsible in deciding what should be returned, and what could stay in Manchester.

In a cultural homecoming on Groote Eylandt, the objects were returned amid an emotional ceremony that included cultural speeches, traditional dancing and a smoking ritual that most descendants of the creators of these artefacts embraced once again.

Their possessions, taken six decades ago, include a range of items.

While baskets, fishing spears and armbands were crafted again, small dolls that are made from shells found on the beaches off the Gulf of Carpentaria had a more significant impact on the culture.

The translated Anindilyakwa-named dadikwakwa-kwa shell dolls are considered living entities in the islands' culture, carrying the spirits of their ancestors and guiding the lives of their descendants.

The make-up of these unique creations was a practice that wholly belonged to the Anindilyakwa mob that not one other Aboriginal woman traditionally practiced.

The returning of the dadikwakwa-kwa is ensuring that the transfer of wisdom that was once nearly lost is reappearing between the generations to again follow in the footsteps of their ancestors.

This traditional custom was no longer a part of life after being dispossessed of their cultural importance.

The British anthropologist professor incorrectly wrote in his notes the doll shells had "no significance" whatsoever and at the time they were "used merely as playthings".

Emerging Anindilyakwa leader Maicie Lalara, who is an artist for the Angurugu and Umbakumba Arts Centre, told an Anindilyakwa community website of the joy of revitalising a traditional craft upon their repatriation.

"Seeing the photos and hearing the old ladies talk about the dolls inspired the doll shell project," she said

"We follow the old ways, weaving like the ladies using the string to make clothes for the dolls.

"We don't want to lose our culture, and we want to share our knowledge to the world."

Edith Mamarika, one of the Anindilyakwa seniors on the Umbakumba settlement, can recall the times before the dolls were whisked away.

It was one of her earliest living memories learning about kin relationships by re-enacting family roles with the dolls.

"I'll tell you a story," Ms Mamarika, one of the most senior women of the island's art community, pointing down to her own made dolls that lie across the sand.

"I remember playing with these because my grandmother, she used to come with us and collect them (off the beach)."

The doll-making exercises and ensuing life of the creative dolls lived amid children's games on the three islands of the Anindilyakwa Indigenous Protected Area.

They were a faded memory until the past 18 months and the reuniting of the clans' objects from Manchester.

Under the guidance of artworkers, Maicie and Noleen Lalara, women are continuing to gather the same shells that their ancestors collected, adorning them with locally sourced ochre pigments before the shells are carefully wrapped in bush-dyed silk cloth, malbalba (bush string), stringy bark and plant-based materials akin to a native piece of pandanus.

"We used to do that a long time ago and we'd get a little bit of material, and we put around (the shell) like this to make the woman," Ms Mamarika says while clothing the shell to bring it to life.

The dolls – among numeracy, literacy and women's health – teach lessons of kinship through a youth engagement program where the creation of shell doll stories are taught.

While Ms Mamarika's collection were not one of the returned shell dolls from Manchester, they had their own lifespan.

"Until my grandmother passed away when she was buried, I threw that bag (of shells) into her grave because it was my grandmother that taught me how to play with it.

"They're all asleep now."

But the dolls' descendants live on, back in Manchester, which have just completed a part of their permanent exhibition on display throughout the recent British school holidays.

The bond between the museum and Anindilyakwa people that has strengthened in recent years defies preconceptions of a complicated past for more than 70 years for two cultures that could not be any different from one another.

Traditional Owners asked that cultural artefacts on display in England not be kept behind glass, and that children who visit the museum are able to play with the dozen dadikwakwa-kwa shell dolls still in the collection.

The exhibition that also contains 'monster fish' sculptures, some spears, silk scarves, and an Anindilyakwa dictionary that was compiled by the Elders is also changing the narrative about the way the university museum tells its stories.

Alex Alberda, Manchester Museum's curator of Indigenous perspectives, said during the recent exhibition that hosting one of the oldest living cultures in the world has been enlightening.

"We've built a beautiful relationship," he said.

"(The Anindilyakwa community) are still our friends and they're dear to us and represent that connection and keeping that connection alive."