Families living in campervans, workers spending their house deposits and communities watching loved ones leave for Australia.
As New Zealand heads to the polls, voters are asking what happened to the promise of a better life.
For generations, New Zealand has offered a simple promise: work hard, look after your whānau, your family, and build a future here.
But for many, that promise is getting harder to keep.
About 350,000 people, including non-New Zealand citizens, are estimated to have left New Zealand over the past three years, with almost half of them moving to Australia.
For those who stay, frustration over the rising cost of living is spilling onto the streets. In August, hundreds of people marched on parliament in protest at soaring bills from Tiaki Wai, the Wellington region's water provider. The average annual bill is now almost $NZ2,390 ($2,000).
Ahead of the November 7 election, Māori and Pacific communities, which are among those hardest hit by unemployment and homelessness, are asking whether politicians can give them a reason to stay.
Katherine Taniwha's family knows how to build a home.
She is a rigger. Her husband David is a crane driver. Their son Eli builds houses.
Now all three live in a campervan while Katherine, 62, undergoes treatment for blood cancer. She says she takes her chemotherapy tablets at night to sleep through the side effects.
David has had to cut back his working hours so he can take his wife to appointments and weekly tests.
As their savings dwindled, Katherine says they sought housing assistance but were told David's campervan counted as their home.
"They said, 'You don't qualify. David has an RV. That's your home,'" Katherine says.
The family has lived in the campervan for more than two years. David says he has sometimes had to borrow money just to get to work and put food on the table.
"We don't really have that much to stretch out anymore," he says. "I almost have to beg for some money at work just to help me get to work or help put a little bit extra on the table for my wife and son."
For Katherine, it's a situation she has come to accept.
"This must be how it is now," she says.*
Their story is not unique.
At the 2023 census, about 112,500 people were severely housing deprived across New Zealand, a figure some housing organisations say has only grown, with Māori and Pacific people disproportionately affected.
"By almost every measure, things have gone backwards quite significantly in the past three years," Paul Gilberd, from Community Housing Aotearoa, says.
Katherine wants politicians to see that reality for themselves.
"Get your hands dirty. Don't say you're doing your best, 'cause your best isn't enough apparently," she says.
The promises and the politics
New Zealand is home to about 5.4 million people. Unlike Australia, voting is not compulsory, although enrolling is.
At the last election in 2023, about 2.9 million voted, just over 78 per cent of those enrolled.
Prime Minister Christopher Luxon is seeking another term for his National-led coalition with ACT and New Zealand First.
Labour, now led by Chris Hipkins after he succeeded Jacinda Ardern in 2023, hopes to return to government, potentially with support from the Greens and Te Pāti Māori.
But New Zealand's electoral system works differently from Australia's.
Voters get two votes: one for their local MP and another for a political party. The party vote largely determines how many seats each party wins, making coalition negotiations central to who governs.
One of the system's most distinctive features is its seven Māori electorates: voters of Māori descent can choose to enrol in these electorates, where they elect their own local MPs, or join the general electoral roll. Both groups also cast a party vote.
About two-thirds of New Zealand's Pacific population lives in Auckland, many in the south, making it a key electoral battleground and a familiar stop on the campaign trail, despite traditionally being a Labour stronghold.
At Johnnie Timu's Brown Pride gym, there's frustration with politicians who turn up during elections but struggle to connect with the people they're trying to reach.
"They always come out in community, but they make a big racket out of it," Johnnie says.
He wants politicians to build trust beyond election season.
Finding work remains a pressing concern.
Unemployment reached 5.6 per cent in the June quarter, with unemployment among people with a Pacific background double that at 11.6 per cent.
For Haora Hema, who lives down in Wellington, the economic downturn has come at a high personal cost.
He spent five years as a principal adviser helping the public service work with Māori and the Crown, before his team was disbanded last year.
His partner, who has a PhD and worked on a programme supporting Pacific leaders, also lost her job, leading the couple to start spending their house deposit just to get by.
"The reality is the job market is smashed," he says.
They pulled their children out of sport and swimming, and slept beside a single heater during winter to save on electricity.
The family wonders if they'll ever own a home.
Beyond financial issues, Haora says he is also worried about how Māori issues have become a source of political division.
"My wish is that people understand that Te Tiriti and Māori stuff is not about division: it's about how we exist here in a harmonious way," he says.
Te Tiriti o Waitangi, or the Treaty of Waitangi, is New Zealand’s founding agreement between Māori chiefs and the British Crown, signed in 1840. Its place in modern New Zealand remains a source of political debate.
National minister Paul Goldsmith says the previous Labour government's spending and public service expansion were unsustainable.
"It's not fair to make future generations pay for uncontrolled spending today," he says.
He points to forecasts of stronger growth and jobs. Haora is still waiting for that recovery.
"What is the vision for our country?" Haora says.
A reason to stay, a reason to leave
In Waihi, a gold-mining town a couple of hours' drive from Auckland, mining offers some a reason to stay.
Chloe Witika, a young Māori woman who spent some time growing up in Australia, returned to New Zealand to be near her parents.
She works as a purchasing officer at the local mine.
She says Māori workers are a rare sight in the industry, but sees mining as a source of opportunity and hope, despite economic trade-offs.
"The pay is so low in New Zealand," she says, when asked about life in comparison to Australia.
"However, my mind has changed: home is everything for me, and to be able to work in a mining industry in New Zealand with my family is all I ever wanted."
When it comes to politics, she says she's still undecided on how to vote.
The government sees mining and infrastructure projects as a way to boost the economy, introducing controversial fast-track laws to speed up approvals for priority developments.
But the changes, which allow some projects to follow a streamlined approval process, have sparked opposition from communities, including around Waihi.
Neville Williams, a spokesman for a Māori collective opposing the mining development, says the approval process left too little room for their concerns.
"That's just some of the duality and the conflict that our people suffer from when confronted with a taniwha like gold mining — it divides, and it separates," he says.
For Chloe and Neville, both Māori, the debate exposes different views about what a future at home should look like.
Despite differences of sentiment or feeling though, Neville urges communities to vote.
"I want [Maori communities] to have hope, and to use their vote," he says.
But across the country, the question of staying or leaving is increasingly familiar, as more New Zealanders watch family, friends and colleagues make the move to Australia.
Back at the gym, Johnnie says several people he knows have moved to Australia this year, seeking secure work and better opportunities for their children.
For families like Johnnie's, New Zealand was once the destination. His own family's journey began in Samoa.
"They done all they could in Samoa and moved to New Zealand," he says.
"Now most of the families here have felt like they've done all they could in New Zealand, now move to Australia."
It's a move he admits he's considered himself, for his children's future. But despite the uncertainty, he remains optimistic.
"Regardless who's in power, we're gonna figure it out — we're gonna learn to survive."
A home worth coming back to
At South Auckland's 275 Markets, Savele "Fitz" Refiti sees neighbours helping each other through hard times.
"Coming together, we can stretch our dollar," he says.
"The village mentality has always worked for us."
But helping each other only goes so far.
Whoever forms the next government faces bigger questions about jobs, housing and whether families can afford to stay together.
For a country that has long promised opportunity and a better life, the challenge is not just stopping people from leaving, but giving them something to stay for.
Labour finance spokeswoman Barbara Edmonds knows that pull personally: her daughter plans to move to Australia after graduating.
"My job, as both a mother and as finance spokesperson, is to ensure that children like my girl will want to come back home," she says.
It's a dilemma facing families across New Zealand: how to build a future for the next generation, without losing them to somewhere else.
But for Katherine and David, the future is a more immediate concern, as the family fights for housing while receiving cancer treatment.
As voters prepare to decide who will lead their country, David hopes the next government will see the people struggling to get by.
"Open your eyes. See who needs help," he says.
Watch The Pacific's special on New Zealand's election tonight on ABC Australia or ABC iView.
Credits
- Reporting, photography & writing: Johnson Raela
- Filming & photography: Alice Lolohea
- Producer: Gabriella Marchant
- Graphics & visual treatments: Synthura Sandrasegaran
- Digital production & editing: Steven Viney
- The Pacific executive producer: Sean Mantesso
- Additional media/footage: ABC Archives, AFP, Supplied
*Editor's Note: Ahead of publication, the family told the ABC they may have secured housing assistance after more than two years of waiting. However, their housing arrangements had still not been confirmed at the time of publication.