A journey from homeless teen to Highlander
As an angry young man the Aucklander left home, fought, stole and ended up sleeping rough. Now he’s a qualified accountant with a Super dream. Paul Cully reports.
New Otago wing Freedom Vahaakolo has a story to tell.
Earlier this year, he was an Auckland university student sitting in a lecture when the Highlanders called, inviting him to Dunedin.
It was out of the blue — at that stage, there was no Otago Mitre 10 Cup contract waiting in the deep south, never mind a Super Rugby deal — it was just a simply an invitation to chase a dream.
But that’s only a small part of his story. Eight years ago, when he was 15, Freedom Vahaakolo was lost, angry at the world and homeless.
‘‘ I used to sleep in a bush in west Auckland,’’ Vahaakolo tells the Sunday Star-Times. ‘‘I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I didn’t have people offer to help me.
‘‘ But at the time I refused to accept grace when it was offered.
‘‘ I had a lot of pride in me. I was determined to prove other people wrong.
‘‘I slept in a bush at night for about a year. I used to try and earn money to go to the laundromat and wash my school uniform.
‘‘ I didn’t care about school. When you don’t even know where your lunch is coming from, or if you don’t know if you are going to be sleeping in the rain that night, those things were more important to me than doing my homework.’’
A product of tara in South Auckland, Vahaakolo has addressed those troubled years.
In a video posted to Facebook by Tupu Toa, an organisation that develops young Pasifika and Ma¯ori leaders, Vahaakolo told a gala dinner in June how he fell victim to his own ‘‘toxic pride’’.
Indeed, for a while, Vahaakolo’s life was wild. He walked out of home at 14 – it was his own decision – and communicated via acts of aggression and rebellion.
Looking back, he sees those years as a cry for help, the actions of a boy with Tongan, Samoan, European and Ma¯ori ancestry who didn’t know where he belonged.
‘‘I really struggled with identity and anger growing up,’’ he says.
‘‘For me, the way I used to express myself was through fighting and stealing. I was doing everything I could for someone to see me, for someone to notice me.’’
The result was a young life that was dominated by instability. Vahaakolo went to five high schools during his teenage years. ‘‘And I was suspended from three of them,’’ he says.
The big change came in 2015. Lonely and tired of people drifting in and out of his life, he went back to his whanau.
‘‘When I was 17 or 18, heading into my final year at high school, the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, was ask my family for forgiveness, and try to earn back their trust,’’ he says.
‘‘ The turning point was realising I couldn’t do everything alone. I didn’t want to do my life by myself.’’
Success immediately followed. In 2017, Vahaakolo did a foundation course to get into university, and he is now a qualified accountant with a job waiting for him at Deloitte when he finishes with rugby.
In terms of rugby potential, the 98kg Vahaakolo has enormous upside.
Although he only started playing the game in the last year of high school, he was selected for the NZ Barbarians Schools side in 2015, where he roomed with Stephen Perofeta and played alongside Otago team-mate Jona
Nareki. Gaining his accountancy degree took priority after that, but the Highlanders’ revamped talent ID setup, under Kane Jury, kept tabs on him, noted his tryscoring feats for Ponsonby in Auckland club rugby, and flew him to Dunedin in the middle of the year.
In the modern era it’s almost unheard of for players to be contacted by Super clubs before they have Mitre 10 Cup deals, but since his move Vahaakolo first stood out in Dunedin in club rugby and then won a contract with Otago.
Vahaakolo has pace, power and agility, befitting someone with a background in athletics and dance, and he scored an excellent finisher’s try against Manawatu¯ in his first start for
Otago, backing it up with another try during the Ranfurly Shield win against Taranaki.
Vahaakolo acknowledges he has taken an unconventional pathway, but the 23-year-old has no regrets.
‘‘I’ve always believed in myself in the sense that I do feel like I have what it takes,’’ he says.
‘‘I just need to keep chipping away.
‘‘I’m still learning a lot. It was always my plan to finish uni and then go all out with rugby, even if I didn’t get a contract.’’
The next step is to grab a Super contract, whether that’s with the Highlanders, or wherever the opportunity pops up.
‘‘100 per cent,’’ he says. ‘‘That’s my dream. I’m being honest in the sense that I really do want a contract.
‘‘In the forefront of my mind I really do hope I get to spend some more time in the Landers environment, but at the moment I’ll just keep playing and I’ll let the coaches and selectors worry about that, and let me know if I’m in that picture.’’
No matter what the future holds, the one quality Vahaakolo will never lack is perspective. He talks about his own mistakes so that young Pasifika and Ma¯ori men can see that asking for help isn’t a weakness. And he sees himself as one of the lucky ones.
‘‘I grew up seeing so many people struggle, but just doing their best to get through it,’’ he says.
‘‘I knew kids in my neighbourhood that were getting beaten up every day by their parents. I never had parents like that. My parents were tough love, for sure, but my parents told me they loved me. Where I grew up, it’s a pretty rough place. There are a lot of gangs.
‘‘I consider myself very lucky to be where I am right now because there are a lot of young people in the neighbourhood who are super talented but never get the chance to see that talent blossom . . . ’’
‘‘I slept in a bush at night for about a year. I didn’t care about school . . . I really struggled with identity and anger.’’