Some Hawke’s Bay whānau are still living on a marae almost five months after Cyclone Gabrielle sent floodwaters rushing through their homes at Waiohiki.
They first evacuated to their own marae, but it soon became an island - so they were rescued by the army and taken to Waipatu Marae, where they have been ever since.
Despite being desperate to return to their whenua, in their temporary home they have rediscovered aspects of te ao Māori they had previously lost.
“I live in a new house because our house got flooded,” she said.
She points out pictures she has drawn of her old house on a papakāinga in Waiohiki - and what she hopes the new one might look like.
“Do you like it here?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said, nodding.
Her toys and clothes were stacked up neatly beside her bed, which she has slept in for around 130 nights.
Her kohanga reo is just across the grass - Waiohiki and Waipatu kohanga reo are working together for now.
A handful of nannies have their own room for warmth and privacy.
At the peak, there were 45 Waiohiki residents staying here - some outside in tents - but Laison said most were now in homes provided by the Government’s Temporary Accommodation Service.
On weekends, they would usually be back on their whenua clearing silt and fixing what they can. But the day I visited it was too wet, and their cars would have got stuck, she said.
The main thing keeping them from going home was their damaged or destroyed septic systems.
“Most of our septic tanks need to be fixed,” Laison said.
“Some of them may just need a clean, but having the piping go to the houses or go to, you know when we do get cabins through TAS [Temporary Accommodation Service], or even privately, having those amenities working so that we can go home.”
But even then - there was a long list of people waiting for builders.
“They feel guilty, we feel guilty, they just want to give you a hug and we just want to cry because, 18 months to two years before we can even think about putting a Gib board up in our house, or putting Pink Batts in our house.
“Most of the whānau are pretty much doing it themselves, if they have the means to - and then other whānau are just like, we’re stuck, there’s just nothing we can do about it.”
These whānau do not know when they can return to Waiohiki, or where the funding, supplies, or workforce will come from to make it happen.
But they said they were grateful to be together with a roof over their heads, and a newfound whānau who will remain in their lives well after they return home.
“I can’t wait to go home, can’t wait for all of us to go home,” Taukamo said.