The policy adviser for ram raids came in
and sat on my other side.
I said, “Good morning.”
“Whatever,” she said, and began marking passages in a report with purple highlighter.
Prime Minister Hipkins brought the meeting to order.
He said, “Well okay, so the first item on the agenda is to sort out the wholesale and radical changes that will inform our policy announcement later this week on the future directions and public perceptions of…”
He looked down at papers on the table, shuffled them, then looked around the room until he saw me, and smiled.
“Three Waters, Prime Minister?” I said.
“Let’s not call it that,” he said.
TUESDAY
Gathered my team of assistant advisers, sub-advisers, consultant advisers, media advisers, HR advisers, Te Tiriti O Waitangi advisers, and advisers manque to work through alternative names for Three Waters.
“Two and a Half Waters. Like the sitcom.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Water 4 You.”
“That’s like a licence plate.”
“Water Solutions.”
“That’s good. But something more…personal.”
“Your Water Solutions.”
“Good. But we need something that speaks to a government that acknowledges Kiwis are doing it hard and wants to lighten their load.”
“Budget Water Solutions.”
“Budget’s a bit Homebrand.”
“Affordable Water Solutions.”
“Yes! Yes, that’s good. But maybe the ‘Solutions’ part isn’t quite right.”
“Affordable Water 4 You.”
“Could you please leave?”
The adviser manque left.
“Okay,” I said. “We’re nearly there, people. Affordable Water - what, exactly?”
“Affordable Water Whakamāramatanga.”
“What?”
“It means ‘explanation’ or ‘clarification’.”
“Right. Yeah. But maybe something less…”
“Māori?”
“No, I didn’t mean that. But you have to admit there are a lot of syllables in ‘Whakamāramatanga’. Plus I think we need something that speaks to a government that has changed tack and is longer so, you know, Jacinda.”
“Affordable Water Directions.”
“Good. Keep them coming.”
“Affordable Water Solutions.”
“I think we’ve been there.”
And that’s when one of the youngest consultant advisers - a recent graduate of political science at Victoria University, whose father had been a policy adviser in the Clark administration and whose mother had been a press secretary in the Key administration - rose to her feet in a kind of trance.
She said, “Affordable Water Reforms.”
The room went quiet. It’s at times like this that you realise you have the best job in the world. When there are moments not just of clarity, but a kind of genius. We all stood up and applauded. Some people shook hands, others hugged. A few wept openly.
I set up a Zoom with Prime Minister Hipkins. He loved it. “This,” he said, “is the kind of thing that wins elections.”
WEDNESDAY
Spent the morning fiddling around with the actual reforms in the Affordable Water Reforms.
THURSDAY
Prime Minister Hipkins announced the Affordable Water Reforms. We all watched it on the big screen at Parliament’s 3.2 bar and then drank low-alcohol craft beer way past our bedtime. I got home at 10pm.
FRIDAY
A text from Prime Minister Hipkins just as I was heading out to take the kids to Mum’s house in Eastbourne.
It reads, “Hi Sarah, gr8 work this week. There’s a vacancy to head up the ram raid policy advisory team.” He added an emoji of a winking face. A wink from Prime Minister Hipkins only ever means a direct order.
“Oh God,” I said.
The kids said, “Are you okay?”
“It’s at times like this,” I said, sitting down, “that you realise you have the worst job in the world.”