A disabled woman’s housing saga
‘‘They didn’t care I had nowhere to go, nowhere to stay – I would’ve been out on the street.’’ Huria Madani, tenant
A disabled woman was days away from rough sleeping – until a social agency backtracked on its threat to cancel her emergency accommodation.
‘‘They [the social agency] dropped off a letter telling me I have to move out,’’ Huria Madani says. ‘‘They didn’t care I had nowhere to go, nowhere to stay – I would’ve been out on the street.’’
‘‘Please remove all your belongings [by June 9],’’ Wellington-based social agency Atareira wrote in its letter. ‘‘Any items not removed will be disposed of at a cost to you.’’
And so began a three-day ordeal for the woman, including two sleepless nights, several desperate calls to MPs and government departments and a demoralising conversation with the social agency.
‘‘They told me there were people sleeping in cars who need this house.’’
The saga culminated in a wanton act of destruction, when someone allegedly from the social agency turned up at the woman’s flat and tore up a small kūmara patch.
That same afternoon, roughly a day after being contacted by The Post, Atareira decided not to make her leave after all.
Madani learnt she wouldn’t be made homeless from a reporter and was still struggling to rationalise the agency’s actions.
‘‘Why put me through all of this?’’ Atareira did not respond to questions – including one about the kūmara patch – but the Ministry of Social Development offered some clues.
Wellington regional commissioner Gagau Annandale-Stone said the ministry had since spoken to Atareira and understood that the initial cancellation came about because Madani did not honour an agreement with the social agency.
It claimed she would ‘‘not accept help to find suitable long-term accommodation’’, nor would she participate in some of the agency’s health services.
Indeed, Atareira identified similar issues in its letter – listing a failure to ‘‘search for (and accept) suitable long-term accommodation’’. Madani believed she was being punished for turning down a Kāinga Ora home late last year. That home, in the eastern suburb of Maupuia, was not suitable, she said.
She has several debilitating health conditions and needs to live close to her doctor. The Mt Cook flat, where she lives, is 800 metres from the medical centre.
‘‘Mobility is a huge issue for me. I literally have to ask a friend to drive me to the doctor’s. I’m not in a wheelchair, but walking is sometimes impossible.’’
Madani provided a doctor’s letter to Atareira, attesting to this fact – and says she engaged with weekly house inspections, even though sometimes the social agency was a no show.
Kāinga Ora, for its part, accepted the house wouldn’t do.
‘‘When we had our conversation with Ms Madani, it became clear the property offered was not close enough to her medical centre, it would not meet her needs,’’ spokesperson Vicki McLaren said.
Unfortunately, there were currently no suitable vacant homes. But with 122 homes under construction in Mt Cook and Newtown, the agency hoped to offer Madani a home ‘‘within the next two months’’.
Annandale-Stone referred to Atareira’s change of heart as ‘‘a positive outcome’’.
‘‘We would encourage [Madani] to engage with Atareira in good faith, as they are trying to help her into permanent accommodation.’’
The ministry didn’t have direct oversight over transitional housing providers, she said – as those providers were instead contracted by the Ministry of Housing and Urban Development. (That ministry was contacted for this story and a spokesperson said it expected providers would ‘‘work with clients to identify and manage issues’’.)
No reason was given, ultimately, that explained the sudden reversal.
Green MP Ricardo Menéndez March believes he knows why.
‘‘The provider backtracked because a reporter called.’’
Menéndez March had earlier received a panicked voicemail from Madani. He said the situation highlighted the need for more co-ordination between the disparate government departments responsible for housing.
‘‘If MSD was able to work in the background to overturn this, and yet the provider was comfortable making this person homeless, it shows there needs to be a more co-ordinated approach.’’
Transitional housing and emergency housing are different – the latter is provided on a week-to-week basis, while the former is available for up to 12 weeks initially, and is expected to come with wraparound support services.
Both are types of short-term, emergency accommodation.
Madani has lived in transitional housing since April 2021, when she first went on the public housing wait list. Her housing need was assessed at A20 – the highest priority rating.
Originally, she stayed with a different provider at a central Wellington boarding house – before moving into the Mt Cook flat last January. Before that, she cycled in and out of unaffordable rentals for years, often moving homes every few months.
Buoyed by the news she might wait just two months longer for a state house, Madani has started to dream.
The Rolleston St apartments are close to being completed, she knows. And while she hasn’t yet been shoulder-tapped by Kāinga Ora, she believes the 80-unit development would be the ideal launch pad for a new life. It’s close to her doctor and dentist – and so much more.
‘‘Once I get some of my healthrelated issues sorted, I can start going for walks up the hill.’’