While some people are trying to leave New Zealand for business or to see family members abroad, others want to come back to stay.
Where will they live?
The housing market is already bonkers. The median price of a Tauranga home is $941,000. That's up about 30 per cent from last June. Median weekly rent in the city is $575, up 6.5 per cent on the prior year.
Imagine what will happen to those numbers once the Government loosens border controls, and perhaps drops the MIQ requirement in favour of allowing fully-vaccinated Kiwi permanent residents and citizens travelling from abroad to isolate at home? Add masses of international students and migrant workers, and $575 per week for a rental property will fade into the ether - a sweet memory of yesteryear.
The Reserve Bank this week made moves analysts say likely means an earlier than expected interest rate rise in August. Experts say rising mortgage rates could remove some of the steam from our white-hot housing market, but no one knows to what extent.
We can't build enough houses to meet demand, partly because some key construction workers are unable to enter New Zealand.
NZME reported last month the number of individuals and families waiting for public housing increased to a new record of 23,687 - up from 22,521 in December - a 45 per cent increase year on year. The price of supporting Kiwis struggling with living costs has neared $1 billion in just three months. During that time, 1000 more applicants joined New Zealand's ballooning public housing waitlist.
Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern this week visited Palmerston North to ceremoniously open a social housing project. Fifty units measuring 52sq m cost $7.4 million. They're colourful and double-glazed, and a drop in the ocean compared to what's needed.
People on long emergency housing waitlists and families whose incomes disqualify them from assistance miss out. They're stuck in a cycle of applying for rentals and attending open homes where dozens of prospective tenants inspect a property that can only be rented to one family.
Site-built homes can take 10 to 12 months to construct, including the planning and consent process. But prefabricated homes, including tiny houses, can shave about 60 per cent from that time frame since the build happens offsite. It's estimated just 10 to 15 per cent of the housing market consists of prefabs, though even traditional builders are already using products from factory systems and technologies, including prenailed wall frames.
Prefabs are not panaceas. As NZME reported earlier this week, two transportable home businesses went bust last month. Anyone who buys a tiny home must find a place to park it, plus connect to water and power. At least two companies specialising in pre-fab homes are running well below capacity, because of factors such as land availability and consenting time frames.
Advocates for alternative housing solutions say local councils must be more transparent and consistent about rules for siting tiny homes. A 2020 court case ruled that tiny homes are no different from caravans and exempt from the Building Act. But Katikati-based Build Tiny says that can change, "depending on what you yourself do with it once you have it parked up…" Resource consent varies by council.
So where will the next wave of Kiwi returnees and migrants live when border restrictions ease? Unless (and possibly even if) we deploy all solutions with urgency, many of those families will face overcrowded homes or living in cars, caravans and tents.
New Zealand is a great place to camp, but few of us want to make it a way of life.