Black Ferns celebrate with the trophy after winning the Rugby World Cup final. Photo / Photosport
Black Ferns celebrate with the trophy after winning the Rugby World Cup final. Photo / Photosport
New Zealanders are no strangers to rugby.
It’s our national sport, pictures of players are in our breakfast cereal and some are even immortalised in the pages of Bargain Chemist catalogues.
But when the Black Ferns took to the field on November 12 this year, something hit different. Kiwis from all walks of life, even those previously unmoved by the game, were transfixed.
The fascination and admiration seemed to come on slow at the start of the tournament, before progressing into a full-blown obsession as the Ferns reached the final.
Kids, parents, grandparents and great-grandparents gathered round the telly, each jostling for the prime watching position.
From the edge of our seats we agitated, anxiety manifesting in bitten nails, stress-eating and nervous mental bargaining as the team fought for eventual victory.
This was not the first time they took out the cup, and it will not be the last. But over the past few months, New Zealanders fell in love with the diverse group of sportswomen, now cemented as Kiwi legends.
That’s why this year the Black Ferns have been chosen as the New Zealand Herald’s Our Heroes champions.
In what have been a divisive few years, the team managed to unite the nation behind them, drawing on the support to help take out the top prize.
But it wasn’t easy, and their success came off the back of a gruelling 2021.
The team, who previously won four World Cups, had endured four record defeats to England and France, a damming cultural review and the resignation of head coach Glenn Moore.
Six months out from the tournament, they were on shaky ground.
But with Wayne Smith taking over the top job, and the likes of Sir Graham Henry and Mike Cron coming into the fold alongside Wes Clarke, Whitney Hansen and Allan Bunting, the team was transformed.
Black Fern Kendra Cocksedge has been with the team for its highs and lows, but never did the three-time Rugby World Cup champ expect they would sell out Eden Park.
Even now the 2015 and 2018 World Rugby Women’s Player of the Year gets goosebumps just talking about it.
“The noise, the energy, the supporting, the chanting of ‘Black Ferns’, it was pretty incredible.”
No other player has scored as many points for the Black Ferns as Kendra Cocksedge. Photo / Photosport
Only when she’s approached by people thanking her for inspiring their son or daughter to play rugby does the gravity of what the team has achieved really kick in.
Although she “never really says it”, Cocksedge said her teammates are her heroes, and it’s been a very special year for the squad.
“I just hope that every young girl and every young boy just wants to play rugby in the years to come and hopefully not just inspiring that, but inspiring just women in sport and women in general.
“The Black Ferns are really something special.”
Like Cocksedge, co-captain Kennedy Simon has been through troughs and triumphs with the team.
She said their focus this year was to drive an environment like never before, and learn from those who have been before them.
“I think the only reason we were able to do that was because our country got behind us, which was awesome.”
Capitalising on that momentum, she hopes the win will encourage young girls into the sport.
“I know there have been a lot of parents that have brought their little girls in to play rugby. I know there’s been a few clubs that have always struggled to field an all-girls under 8s team, now there’s just so many numbers. And it’s exciting.
“Sylvia [Brunt, fellow Black Fern] was 18, and you know, when I see a 15-year-old I’m like, ‘You could be going to the World Cup in three years’.”
Now the country has seen what women athletes can do, Simon believes New Zealanders are going to get behind women’s sport in general, not just rugby.
She too never imagined she’d be co-captaining the winning squad in front of a sold-out Eden Park, but having the whole country cheering her on felt “phenomenal”.
Wayne Smith with co-captains Ruahei Demant and Kennedy Simon. Photo / Photosport
“Running out for the final, and not being able to hear each other, barely being able to hear yourself sing the anthem. The only moment I can remember vividly that we could hear each other, was when we were doing the haka and Stacey was leading, and that’s when the whole stadium was quiet.”
Simon told the Herald that even being nominated for the award was a huge achievement for the team, as it showed they were headed in the right direction.
Ruby Tui, who made her Black Ferns debut earlier this year, said it felt like the crowd became their friends and family.
“We had people that I’d never met or we’d never met making signs or having all these young girls with red streaks in their hair and you know they became familiar faces, so by the time we got to that final, it just felt like everyone in that crowd knew the journey we were on.
“It’s really cool, but I’m not surprised, I’ve always believed in women’s rugby, I’ve always thought it’s a bloody good entertaining ticket, and we bring something different to the fellas.”
The finalists
Rosie Veldkamp (left) and Mia Edmonds. Photo / Sylvie Whinray
Mia Edmonds, Rosie Veldkamp and Ellie Oram, the survivors who spoke out
Mia Edmonds, Rosie Veldkamp and Ellie Oram each experienced horrific trauma at the hands of the same man. But the young women, who were sexually assaulted as high school students, refuse to be silenced.
As sexual assault survivors they were given automatic name suppression, however the three waived this right in order to speak out about the assaults.
Edmonds told the Herald that three years ago she would have never dreamed of being able to talk about what happened to her, let alone do it so publicly.
“I think all of us have just been really trying our hardest to help other young people who have been or will be in similar situations to us.”
Speaking for the group, Edmonds said their main goal was trying to spread awareness of youth sexual assault and show other survivors they were not alone.
“They are strong enough to get through what they’ve gone through, and that they’ll come out the other end. It’s always good to speak out when you can, because suffering in silence is so horrible, it honestly eats you away from the inside.”
New Zealand doctor Jenny Beesley has seen combat in Ukraine after joining a company bringing together international volunteers and Ukrainians. Photo / Supplied
Iryna Rybinkina and Jenny Beesley, the doctors risking their lives for Ukraine
Jenny Beesley was working at Bay of Islands Hospital and mulling plans to sail the Pacific when Russia shocked the world by launching a full-scale invasion of its neighbour Ukraine.
The doctor wanted to help and by late May she was in training for a new combat unit for international volunteers and Ukrainians.
“Some people think I’m reckless … but it’s making peace with your own mortality - death is inevitable for all of us, it is just a little more immediate for us on the front line,” she told the Herald earlier this year.
Beesley, who is still in Ukraine, said the real heroes were the people of Ukraine.
“They are, in many ways, not dissimilar to Kiwis - resourceful, independent, hard-working, love their families, value their mates. They are ordinary people who are faced with an extraordinarily brutal, challenging and desperately sad situation. They are rising to the challenge. I am proud to stand with them.”
Iryna Rybinkina, who was raised in Kyiv, had only recently started working in Auckland on a fellowship when Russia attacked.
After this year’s invasion, Rybinkina moved to Lviv, a city in Ukraine’s west, to turbo-charge her non-government medical aid organisation. Her husband and children, 9 and 3, have stayed in his native Netherlands.
Bread Collective founder Ana Djokovic (left) and baker Daniel Ma with caramelised onion scones, made by students on week two of their skills course. Photo / Michael Craig
Ana Djokovic, helping former refugees find their place
Ana Djokovic is a reluctant hero. Born in Yugoslavia, Djokovic and her family immigrated to New Zealand in 1995.
“My parents had to find their feet, study again and start from scratch. They lost their friends and our family didn’t move here. They had no status here, no one who knew them professionally. It was a two-year period of retraining, while having different jobs, like cleaning,” she said in February.
Djokovic is the founder of The Bread Collective, an organisation that delivers accessible education to former refugees in Aotearoa focused on the art of baking.
It took Djokovic four years, including volunteer stints at a similar organisation in Australia, to establish the Collective.
Now she’s helping former refugees bake their way into the industry, which is already crying out for help.
“You don’t need extremely good comprehension or understanding of English. It’s very repetitive . . . once you’ve done it once, you’re just perfecting the skill. And everybody is capable of doing this. It’s not so difficult or foreign - it’s not learning to drive a forklift!”
She told the Herald that when you come to a new country as a refugee you have to rebuild all your networks, like friendships and professional networks.
“I think The Bread Collective does a good job of setting people on that path through employment opportunities, supporting integration into the community.”
Sally Walker had her mesh case closed by NZ's health watchdog because the surgeon had a medical condition and couldn't respond. Photo / Dean Purcell
Sally Walker, the surgical mesh survivor who found her voice
For more than a decade Sally Walker has lived in pain.
The surgical mesh survivor and campaigner is one of more than a dozen women whose care was examined by the Health and Disability Commissioner over complaints that they were harmed by surgeons implanting surgical mesh, many without informed consent.
Walker, a former Karitane nurse, said after the mesh was inserted she felt that the surgeon repeatedly dismissed her concerns about the device causing her severe pain.
“I was sick of not being listened to, being misled with his information, or rather lack of. He just kept fobbing me off,” Walker claimed.
It took 10 more operations to try to repair the harm, including removing her bladder and sewing up the opening of her vagina to stop her organs slipping out.
Her aim in speaking out is to ensure all surgeons using mesh for women’s pelvic operations are appropriately qualified so no more Kiwi wāhine are harmed by the practice.
“The way surgeons are inserting mesh destroys women’s lives and it’s not right.”
Walker was “absolutely blown away” and humbled by the nomination, which she sees as an acknowledgement to all the women who have been harmed by mesh.
“What I hoped for has happened, and that has bought it to the fore, and that people who have not understood what mesh harm has done to people, I now know through meeting people in the street, talking to people, they’ve thanked me for bringing it to light.”
Taka Peters collects and hands out leftover food to the community in Beach Haven every weekday. Photo / Sylvie Whinray
Taka Peters, whose giving knows no bounds
Come rain or shine, every weekday in Beach Haven you can find Taka Peters at his local shops serving up healthy meals. Peters started the donations, daily leftovers from a commercial catering company, when he was approaching retirement age and on a benefit after spine surgery left him unable to work.
“I thought ‘Yes! I’ve finally found something’,” he said, telling the Herald earlier this year the donations gave his life purpose. He’s lived in the area since 1989 and said the recent development of state housing from single homes to apartments had brought dramatic change.
When he first started, Peters said it used to take three to four hours to dish out the food, whereas now it’s gone in 45 minutes.
“It is just unbelievable, I used to sit there for four hours going, ‘Oh I wish somebody would come and get my food’, now I pull up and there’s lines of cars waiting for me.”
Peters particularly treasures visits from one of his regulars, an elderly man who lives in a nearby retirement village, who regularly walks to see him.
“When it rains I deliver to his doorstep because he’s an elderly gent and I think a lot more people need to respect elderly people in our community. I think there’s not enough of that. Young ones of today have just got no idea.”
Make It 16's Caeden Tipler, centre, with, from left, Anika Green, Ella Flavell, Caitlin Taylor and Lily Lewis at the Supreme Court in Wellington in November, 2022. Photo / Mark Mitchell
Make it 16 and co-leader Caeden Tipler
For years the Make it 16 campaign, and its co-leader Caeden Tipler, have fought for 16- and 17-year-olds to have the right to vote in Aotearoa.
This year the group’s fight reached the Supreme Court, where Justice Ellen France ruled it was inconsistent with the Bill of Rights to not allow 16-year-olds to vote.
While only Parliament can decide to change the law, after the victory Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern announced the Government would introduce legislation with a proposal to lower the age of voting to 16 for the whole of Parliament to consider before the middle of next year.
Throughout the campaign Tipler has been the face of the movement, speaking repeatedly in national media about the issue.
They told the Herald the nomination was “super-unexpected” and they were grateful to be nominated.
“Make it 16 has obviously made significant steps forward to try to lower the voting age this year.
“A voting age of 18 is a human rights violation. So to get all the way to the Supreme Court and now have that legal backing is obviously massive.”
Lesley Elliott believed she could have helped her daughter if she'd known the signs of abuse. Photo / Sarah Ivey
Lesley Elliott, for her fight against domestic violence
Lesley Elliott was a vocal advocate for abuse awareness since her daughter Sophie Elliott, then a 22-year-old student, was stabbed to death by her former boyfriend in 2008.
Following her daughter’s death, Elliott founded the Sophie Elliott Foundation to raise awareness of the signs of domestic violence.
Through the organisation she travelled across New Zealand delivering talks to community groups and schools.
She also wrote two books on domestic violence, Sophie’s Legacy and Loves Me Not – How to Keep Relationships Safe. In 2015 she was made a Member of the New Zealand Order of Merit.
Elliott was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease in 2019 and the programme was passed on to police to continue running.
At that time her spokesman and foundation trustee Bill O’Brien said her life had been deeply impacted by Sophie’s death.
“You could see that they could swim but they just weren’t getting anywhere and next minute the hand went up, followed by another hand,” Ireton said at the time.
Ireton leapt into action while his partner called 111. As he started running down the beach, one girl battled out of the surf.
The first people he reached were two girls aged about 13. After pushing one of them to safety, with the other following, he heard a boy scream out for help
“Saying, ‘Save me!’ and I thought, ‘S***, here we go’.”
Ireton swam back out and reached the boy.
He dragged him in, pushing him forward as waves broke, using nature’s momentum, and getting them back to dry land.
“He was really spent,” Ireton recalled. “He was spewing up on the beach, coughing up water, but then he says, ‘Please save my dad’.”
Totally exhausted, Ireton ventured back into the ocean and rescued the boy’s father.
Hamish Pryde and a worker from Pryde Contracting busy opening up the Wairoa River mouth last month in an effort to avert a flooding disaster for the township and low-lying areas. Photo / Supplied
Hamish Pryde, for saving his town
In March this year the weather was wreaking havoc in Tairāwhiti. As the water rose a state of emergency was declared, emergency personnel were kicking into action and the storm began moving south.
Wairoa, Hawke’s Bay, was also copping its fair share of severe weather, and Hamish Pryde feared his small town might be in trouble.
At 9am that day Pryde, a man with more than 40 years’ experience in the bulldozing industry, happened to be driving near the Wairoa River mouth. As he looked out at the rising water, alarm bells went off.
As the rain continued to beat down, the water level was only getting higher and Pryde knew the sand bar at the entrance needed urgent attention.
Crossing farmland in his trusty bulldozer, he encountered floodwater that was already halfway up one of the gates he had to open. Next, he had to guide his machine through a couple of hundred metres of deep water, which had him “quite nervous”.
Undeterred, and with the help of his team member on a digger, he began excavating the river mouth in the early afternoon.
It wasn’t until darkness began descending that the job was complete, and the river was able to flow as it should.
