KEY POINTS:
The road to Puketitiri is a twisting journey into the heart of Hawke's Bay, rising from the plains outside Napier through broken hills into the Kaweka Range.
Ominous clouds descend to meet the hilltops, mingling with the smoke from forestry burn-offs on the outskirts of what was once the village of Puketitiri. Today there is just a car museum, a ramshackle holding named Boot Hill and, on a knoll surrounded by sheep and spring flowers, the school.
A mud-spattered van arrives and five small, blond children, weighed down with school bags, run into the schoolhouse. Principal Simon Greening mentally takes the roll as they go past. It only takes a few moments. There are no more children coming.
Puketitiri may be the smallest school in the country. It vies for this title, term by term, with a couple of other rural schools, for whom the arrival or departure of a single family can make a huge difference. Puketitiri School is 111 years old. Next month it will probably be closed - forever.
Inside, the schoolhouse is like hundreds of others, its walls a riot of paintings, collages and poems. It has an overhead projector, a computer, and cushions are scattered on the floor. But every second item in the room bears a small, red sticker.
Greening explains that all of these items - the filing cabinets, desks and printer - are earmarked for removal to the larger Patoka School down the valley, if Puketitiri should close.
Greening heard in July that the school was likely to close. The roll has been declining for years. Last year it was just four.
He received the news when he called the Ministry of Education to ask about developing a library. "I had a sixth sense," he recalled. "They said, 'Actually, we've been looking at your numbers'."
The school board has opted for what the ministry calls "voluntary closure", in the hope of keeping its funding in the area. But Greening doesn't think there is anything voluntary about it. "The hard thing for me to take is that they come in and you think you have options, but it's put in such a way that you have no options. If we don't close voluntarily they will recommend we close anyway."
Greening said he was "really sad" about the demise of the school, where he has taught for 18 years.
The school once had a roll of 60, mostly the children of farmers, farm labourers and timber workers. The village boasted a post office, pub, shop and hall. Until 1987 the school had two teachers.
Generations of local farming families have attended the school. "Somewhere in the rural downturn we found farmers were not employing farmhands any more," said Greening's wife, Christine, who doubles as a release teacher. "They have found it difficult to get people with families to apply for jobs. Mostly it's single men."
The other release teacher, Jan Wedd, blamed it on people delaying having children: "They've all started breeding now. But it's too late."
Simon Greening said the community was less isolated now. When he came to Puketitiri the road was mostly gravel - now it is sealed past the school. People used to do a big food shop in town once every four to six weeks and were often stranded by snow in the winter. Now, Napier is just 40 minutes away.
With the 55-pupil school at Patoka just 15 minutes down the road, some parents are sending their children there already. That is where Greening's five pupils will go if the school closes.
Greening doesn't accept that going to a larger school is the best thing for rural children, arguing that his pupils get more time and attention.
Robert Holt, whose children Zoe and Tiegan attend the school, said he would be sad to see it close. "But time moves on and there's not a lot you can do about it. Six or seven kids already from up this way are car-pooling to Patoka. It's time to get them down to a school where they have more friends."
"I will miss the school," said one of the pupils, Nelson Lomas. "It will be sad to see all this great stuff go to no use."
Christine can't disguise her feelings. "It's been so loved and it will all go to rack and ruin."
Greening was dreading having to clear out the work of generations of Puketitiri kids. "Nothing can be kept on the walls. I will be walking out of here looking at an empty shell."
The Ministry of Education said in a statement: that if the minister agreed to close the school it would be likely that this would take effect from the end of the year.
