Northland Flood Evacuees Blocked From Home By Red Tape
Five months after severe storms battered Northland's east coast, displaced residents remain stranded at Ngātiwai Marae. Rigid government infrastructure requirements are blocking off-grid whānau from receiving temporary housing, exposing a critical gap in Aotearoa's climate disaster response.
What happened to Northland communities in January?
On 18 January, a violent deluge struck the Whangaruru area, leaving families like Aroha Samuels and Willy Thompson waking in knee-deep water. The rising creek surged roughly six metres overnight, destroying homes and washing away lifetimes of accumulated belongings.
Samuels recalls the terrifying morning. Around quarter to five, Thompson woke to water up to his knees inside their caravan. They were trapped, unable to open the door against the force of the rushing water, forced to wait for daylight surrounded by the flood.
We just didn't know what to do. We were lost because all our stuff, we could see it floating down the river.
Once the water receded, the couple evacuated to Ngātiwai Marae in Ngāiotōngā with nothing but the clothes on their backs. The marae became a vital sanctuary after the storm washed out a bridge just north of the settlement and blocked the southern road with slips. Stranded travellers and locals sought shelter, kai and showers, sustained by a tight-knit community that donated replacement bedding and clothing.
How is bureaucracy blocking off-grid whānau from returning home?
Most evacuees eventually returned home, but five months later, five individuals, including Samuels and Thompson, remain displaced. Their ongoing displacement highlights a jarring clash between government disaster aid and sustainable, off-grid living.
Ngātiwai Trust Board kaimanaaki Karlene Wakefield explained that the marae and the Trust Board are working with the Temporary Accommodation Service, a government agency, to secure cabins for the evacuees. However, the agency mandates that any temporary housing must be connected to mainstream power and wastewater systems.
This requirement completely overlooks the reality of how these families live. The displaced whānau previously lived off-grid, far from conventional utility connections, relying on solar power and composting toilets. Because their land lacks grid infrastructure, they do not qualify for the very assistance designed to help them.
Because we don't have the infrastructure they can't really help us with cabins. We'd have to get power, access, water, septic. It's going to cost money and we don't really know how long it's going to take.
For Samuels, the prolonged stay at the marae takes a heavy toll. While she appreciates the warmth of the campervan provided by the marae, she longs for privacy and autonomy. The system, it seems, is fundamentally ill-equipped to support those who live lightly on the land.
The power of marae and manaaki in climate recovery
Where government systems fall short, indigenous community networks have stepped up. Sam Tamihana, who turns 70 next month, lost his caravan when the gale blew out its door and windows. Despite comparing the storm to Cyclones Bola and Gabrielle, he noted this single night of rain caused unprecedented devastation.
Initially reluctant to seek help, Tamihana eventually accepted the marae's hospitality out of sheer necessity. Rob Tamihana, who also lost his caravan and his children's belongings, felt profound gratitude that his tūpuna, or ancestors, were watching over him by keeping his children away that night.
Dedicated volunteer Beau Rewha, known as Aunty Beau, emphasised that this care is the core function of the marae. Manaaki means caring for family, community, and people across all backgrounds, breaking the isolation that follows climate trauma. Wakefield affirmed there is no time limit on this support, promising to walk alongside the displaced whānau for as long as needed.
Why are Northland's climate recovery efforts still failing?
The lack of broader awareness compounds the struggle. Wakefield noted that even in nearby Russell, just over the hill, people are shocked to learn families remain displaced. The isolation is literal as well as social; the main road linking Ngāiotōngā, Whangaruru and Ōakura to Whangārei city remains closed due to a massive slip from a second deluge on 21 January. The Whangārei District Council projects one lane might reopen by late July.
In the meantime, some evacuees are channeling their own trauma into community service. Aroha Samuels recently travelled to the Far North settlement of Whirinaki to assist victims of the March flood. She found profound purpose in helping others navigate the same devastation she continues to endure, proving that even in limbo, the human capacity for solidarity endures.
Why are Northland flood evacuees still homeless five months later?
Five individuals remain at Ngātiwai Marae because their off-grid homes were destroyed, and the Temporary Accommodation Service requires grid-connected power and wastewater for replacement cabins, which their land lacks.
Can off-grid communities access government disaster housing?
Currently, accessing temporary cabins is difficult for off-grid communities because government mandates require conventional power and wastewater hookups, effectively penalizing sustainable, off-grid living arrangements.