The faces of homelessness
In the third and final part of a Herald series, Corazon Miller talks to those living on the streets
There is no single face to define homelessness. It’s the man in South Auckland living in his van who has a job but no house. It’s the men sleeping outside the Onehunga public toilets. It’s the young woman often seen at the end of lower Queen St, in the central city.
Homelessness is just the start of their story and that of the estimated
20,000-plus others in the wider Auckland region at the last Census in 2013 — a figure expected to go up in this year’s Census.
Around New Zealand, more than
41,000 people fit the Government’s official definition of homelessness, which includes those sleeping rough, living in cars, garages, emergency or temporary shelters — of these more than 4000 had no shelter at all at the time of the last Census.
The Census figures, analysed by University of Otago academic Dr Kate Amore, also showed more than half of homeless adults (52 per cent) were working, studying or both and the same proportion were younger than
25.
Many of the rough sleepers were single, men and women, often of Ma¯ori, Pacific Island or Asian descent, who moved to the streets for reasons including a lack of affordable housing, joblessness, mental health, addiction and family violence.
Carrie Allen’s story started with a broken relationship that left him sleeping in his van. Two years later, in autumn 2018, he still called it home.
He had a job — moving construction materials between building sites in South Auckland — that earned him enough to pay for his meals, dogs’ food and vet bills.
Last year he donated a ham to the Christmas lunch held at St Peter’s Anglican Church, in Onehunga.
“Food is delivered out here at nights to the homeless, ones that don’t sleep in cars. I don’t eat from that, I eat basically from my own pocket, my dogs I feed them out of my own pocket.”
But despite his regular income, Allen was unable to secure a house for himself and his two dogs for more than two years.
He struggled to save extra money for a bond and to find a place where he was able to have his dogs. They shared his mattress in the van at night.
He would park in a quiet space behind Onehunga Mall and use a small gas cooker to make his meals.
“That’s where I knuckle down with my dogs . . . in my van. It can get a bit hot [in summer], winters I’m not too fussed about, I’m used to the cold.”
The two large mastiffs, Nala and Kaiser, are not negotiable — they are his lifeline.
“My life doesn’t really matter to me . . . my main concern is my dogs really, that’s all that matters to me.”
Several weeks after speaking to the Herald, the construction worker finally found a house, where he now lives with a friend.
His former living situation is not something he tends to tell others about.
“It’s been a secret for years. It is probably more or less the shame, I don’t really want them to know.”
Friend and fellow streetie Ricky Rawiri shares a sense of shame about his living situation — by the public toilets in Onehunga.
He gives little away about what led him there. Overcome with emotion, he struggles to put how he feels into words.
Rawiri wants to get off the streets, but says a broken phone meant he missed his Work and Income New Zealand call.
I know we have to get on and do things for ourselves. I just don’t want my kids to see me here like this, on the street. Rawiri, “streetie”
“I don’t want to be here . . . “It’s a sickening place to be, I don’t want to end up like that [dead before my time].”
He says it is all on him to find a way up.
“I know we have to get on and do things for ourselves,” he says. “I just don’t want my kids to see me here like this, on the street.”
The vicar at St Peter’s Anglican in Onehunga, Petra Zaleski, estimates the two men were among five to 10 others sleeping rough in the Auckland suburb at the time.
Another, who was in hospital at the time of the Herald visit, has a severe disability and typically could be seen sleeping out the back of the church.
In the weeks since, three, including Allen, have been housed, but Zaleski said others had taken their spots.
The helplessness of the situation angers and saddens her.
“There’s nothing for these people . . . they are the most vulnerable, they have got convictions, addictions and burnt family ties.
“Most of them have significant trauma stories and there really is not anybody to help.”
The latest Governmentcommissioned Housing Stocktake report, released in February, shows levels of homelessness “far outstrip” the available assistance.
In 2017, the “turnaway rate” for these providers ranged from 82 per cent to 91 per cent, so for every 10
homeless people to approach them, only one to two could be housed.
According to the report the data from the providers painted a picture of both desperate families and workers from a range of government agencies going through a laborious process of calling around, looking for emergency housing.
“The need for a more modern, coordinated system is clear.”
Diana Hegan is part of the New Zealand Coalition to End Homelessness and has called for a specific government portfolio to tackle homelessness.
She said alongside the commitment to build affordable housing options it needs to look at ways to “address the pipelines into homelessness”.
Housing Minister Phil Twyford says the Government is still looking at how it could streamline services.
“One of the reasons we performed so badly and the housing crisis got out of control was not just a lack of political will, it was fragmentation and the lack of viewing housing in a unified way.
“There is no question we need better integration between housing policy and broader social development.
“I think we have to be open to doing things differently and above all treating people with compassion.”