Kirsty Wiringi and daughter Aveiyah, 10 months, have been living in a motel unit in Rotorua for over a year. Photo / Alex Burton
Today, the Rotorua Daily Post launches a series called Fighting for Rotorua that looks into the city's housing crisis, the motel misery and what is being done to make it better. Kelly Makiha reports.
"I just feel so stuck in there. I don't see the end at all."
These are the words of utter despair from Kirsty Wiringi, who has been in and out of emergency housing motels since 2020.
She sits in her Rotorua motel unit most of the time with her curtains closed cuddling her 10-month-old baby and dreaming of having a house - somewhere safe so she can build a home with her other four children, aged 5, 10, 11 and 12.
For now, they can't be with her, but she still hangs on to her goal.
"It's sad to say that I'm just so used to being in here now. All I want is a stable abode for my children."
Wiringi is sharing her story as part of the Rotorua Daily Post's series Fighting for Rotorua, which reveals nearly $70 million has been spent on emergency housing in Rotorua over nearly five years.
New data released to the Rotorua Daily Post Weekend shows the average number of consecutive weeks spent in emergency housing at the quarter ending June 2022 was 35 - more than eight months - up from 18 weeks two years prior.
The average number of consecutive weeks in emergency housing for people with children for the quarter ending June 2022 was 31 compared with 17 in June 2020.
So far, 57 families have spent longer than a year in emergency housing.
Wiringi, 31, first sought emergency housing help in 2020 and was put into Tuscany Villas, where she stayed for about eight months.
She then got a transitional housing home on Malfroy Rd. However, she says because of circumstances out of her control - including the actions of someone living there - they lost the house.
That meant a heavily pregnant Wiringi had to go back into emergency housing.
That was in September last year, and she's been stuck there since - and the conditions at first were not ideal for her or her baby, Aveiyah.
"The state of the rooms were so disgusting, and I was freaking out about having to have my baby in there."
Being back in that situation was the wake-up call she needed. She self-referred for a drug and alcohol rehabilitation course and is proud to say she has been clean from methamphetamine for more than a year.
Wiringi gave birth to her baby in December and wants a home.
The place she is living has now been renovated with new carpet, a new oven and a paint-job.
She says she lives among gang associates, and children are sometimes stopped from playing outside because they make a mess. Sometimes they can only play in the car park.
There are now only a few issues because most of the tenants have each other's backs.
But Wiringi just wants out.
"We support each other more than anyone who comes to help because we are trying to get out of there."
Whanau Ora Commissioning Agency chairwoman Merepeka Raukawa-Tait sympathised with Wiringi's pleas to get out of emergency housing.
"In virtually all circumstances I believe motel living for children is tantamount to child abuse."
She said no-one wanted to see children herded into confined quarters, not knowing who was living directly on the other side of the wall.
"This so-called housing solution, no matter how temporary, will have similar long-term impacts to the children who are taken into state care."
She said their health would be compromised, educational progress hindered and behaviour issues would surface.
"This all leads directly to the justice system pipeline. I do not agree that we should set these families up for failure."
As for Wiringi, she wants to be normal and to be seen as a regular member of society - not one of those people who were subjected to what she said were judgmental comments, such as "those people in emergency housing who are making Rotorua look like s***".
"My benefit won't cover market rent and that's the standstill for me. I just don't know how we are going to get out."