Maddy | Pukekohe

“The event that I’m here, doing a hikoi, is quite stressing and scary. I’ve been around for a while, and what I see around, is that there’s people out there that are searching for a home. They’re doing the same thing as me. 

They’re looking for a place they can call home, and at the moment, the way I see it now, it’s going to get harder and harder. I was told this 30 years ago. It’s going to be harder for our people, and it is. I feel sorry for our people, and when I say people, I mean all races. When I walk around, I talk to all sorts of people. Most of them are humble people like me, looking for a place they can call home. The system’s a bit awkward out there. You tried to work with the system, but it never did work for us. They say they’re helping us but they’re not helping us. They’re just drip-feeding us. That’s how I feel. I know a lot of people out there, not too happy, but no-one would know that, because they won’t say anything. With their medical health, their wellbeing, all that kind of thing. Where I grew up, if it wasn’t for my mum, I wouldn’t be around, but saying that, she was a very humble, wise woman. So were my sisters. Taught me love, and to keep yourself tidy, and help as many people as you can, and don’t forget who you are and what you’re here for. It’s about whānau, with my mum. 

I came down here when I was five years old, but I always travel back up there to Hokianga because you know 9, 10, 11 I was working inside the Marae up there helping with the funerals. That’s how we made our connection. I believe that we’re connected, because I was there. Not only me, but other warriors like me. You had no choice but to go up there. Get up there, and take your whānau up there, and this and that, and we had to bury them, because that’s how it was. There was no-one else at the time, but us, the young ones, to do that. They’re all whānau. They believed in it. That’s everybody, because you know how the Māori are back in the day. Nau mai, haere mai. We’re still like that. 

I left school early, but I worked. My dad was a workaholic, so Mum was a workaholic too, so I jumped in there, and I learned this, that, and what to do. I was working when one of my daughters got institutionalised, herself. So I grabbed the moko, grabbed all of them, and Social Development, they did the best they can, they were housing us here and there, but in doing all that, that was helpful what they’re doing but at the same time, they made me look at the bigger picture. And, it wasn’t just us, but I didn’t know anything about that until I went into emergency housing, and tried to get a roof over my moko heads. Because it was about them. It’s always about them. It’s not about us. We have mana, and we try and do the best we can for our moko and our tamariki. Especially the moko. 

I’m in emergency housing, and they’re paying like $900 a week. They spent about $80-90 grand on us. That’s just renting, and I asked, do we have to pay it back? And, they said, no you don’t have to pay it back because of the situation. Then I said wouldn’t it be better if you fellas put a deposit on a house, or something like that instead? And they said, if we did that for you, everybody would want that. And, I said to them, well that’s what everybody wants. Everybody wants a roof over their heads so they can believe. Believe in the system, because it’s the system that’s actually taking from us. That’s what I see in this whole social development thing.”