STAFF STRIKE FOR BETTER PAY, WHILE MASSEY SUSPENDS IT FOR THOSE WHO DO
OPINION: HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS, BUT WHAT IF YOU CAN’T FIND EITHER ANYMORE? A YEAR SINCE OCTOBER 7TH
Why should the most well-paid public servant also get free housing? Humble yourself.
Last week, Prime Minister Chris Luxon moved into the newly refurbished Premier House in Thorndon, Wellington.
Over $95,000 dollars was spent on the refurbishments. And according to Newshub, $9,832.38 of taxpayer money was spent readying the property for Luxon.
This taxpayer money was spent on new mattresses, linen, a new toaster, kettle, knife set, microwave, tea towels, and even a Sky TV connection.
Do you want us to pay for your Netflix, too?
As of 2023, the PM’s salary sits at $471,049. The thought that we are paying for this person’s bed sheets feels ridiculous. I hope we got him Egyptian cotton.
Because the Prime Minister gets this privilege, last month Luxon was able to sell his Wellington apartment for $975,000, 1News reported. He is expected to make a capital gain of $180,000 as he bought the apartment in 2020.
Scrutiny for this was inevitable, but Luxon expected this. He told reporters, “If we’re going to criticise people for being successful, let’s be clear, I’m wealthy and I'm sorted.”
He argued that it was normal for Prime Ministers to sell their own accommodation before moving into the Premier House. “Now I'm moving in, and I don't need the apartment, so I’m selling it. That’s what John Key did when he became Prime Minister.”
Luxon isn’t the only person to spend up budget money on the house. In 2011 John Key spent $275,000 on renovations including new paint, carpet, and blinds. In 2018, Jacinda Ardern was advised to invest in repairs and security upgrades and ended up spending around $3 million.
It feels completely ironic that we have budgeted $340 million a year on emergency housing for people at the bottom of the chain, while simultaneously spending money to house someone at the top of the chain.
The Prime Minister gets to live in a house valued at $37 million just because of their job title,
while the rest of us fight to find healthy homes, pay for rent and argue with landlords.
Luxon is a multimillionaire who owns seven mortgagefree properties. He doesn’t need to live rent free. But this isn’t actually about Luxon in particular. Every Prime Minister has been on a high enough salary that they can and should pay for their own accommodation.
So perhaps Luxon should consider moving back into that Wellington apartment he lived in happily since 2020. Unless he’d like to lead by example and pay rent on the Premier House — just like the rest of us.
Love, Sammy.
ALL RENTAL ACCOMMODATION LISTED ON TRADE ME MUST MEET HEALTHY HOMES STANDARDS. PROPERTIES THAT DON'T MEET HEALTHY HOMES STANDARDS ARE ILLEGAL AND THEREFORE CANNOT BE LISTED ON TRADE ME.
IF YOU FIND A NON-COMPLIANT PROPERTY ON TRADE ME YOU CAN REPORT IT BY CLICKING 'COMMUNITY WATCH: REPORT THIS LISTING' AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PAGE. OUR TRUST & SAFETY TEAM WILL THEN EVALUATE THE LISTING'S DESCRIPTION AND PHOTOGRAPHS. THEY MAY GET IN TOUCH WITH THE MEMBER WHO LISTED THE PROPERTY FOR MORE INFORMATION ABOUT THEIR HEALTHY HOMES COMPLIANCE. IF WE FIND THE LISTING BREACHES STANDARDS, WE WILL REMOVE IT OR BAN THE MEMBER.
WORDS BY REBECCA HOGAN A SHE/HER, SAMMY CARTER A SHE/HER, ELIZABETH MOISSON A SHE/HER
Staff and students joined together to strike for a 6% pay rise to match inflation, but Massey University may not be budging from its 2% offer.
The Tertiary Education Union Strike was held on September 26th on all three Massey campuses, as well as the University of Auckland, Canterbury University and Lincoln University.
Out of the four universities striking, Massey University was the only one suspending pay for staff who chose to strike.
In an email sent to staff shared with Massive, it said, “the university is suspending all TEU and PSA union members who are on strike as notified pursuant to section 87 of the Employment Relations Act 2000. Please treat this email as notice that you are suspended, effective immediately and until the end of strike at 4:30pm today.”
Communications lecturer Sean Phelan started the Wellington strike with a speech over a megaphone.
He said, “The university says it's not acting punitively. And yes, from a legal perspective, that's true. Folks, forgive me, I'm not a lawyer. There's four universities going on strike today. There's only one that's not going to pay.”
“Maybe we should all start doing mock invoices, of all the hours we work when we reply to student emails on the weekends, when we spend a few hours responding to some administrative request after hours.”
The union wants to make sure everyone is paid at least the living wage.
Phelan told Massive the living wage is simply about paying people enough to live a dignified life. “As a basic principle, this is something that the union is obviously supportive of, and we'd like our employer to be supportive of as well.”
He criticised Massey’s desire to have a constructive relationship, while simultaneously suspending pay. “That, I think, has surprised a lot of people, who often give generously of their own time outside of formal work hours to support the work of this institution.”
He believed Massey has been prioritising investment in areas other than staff.
“This is a criticism you can make against Massey and a lot of universities that they're often more interested in investing in their own kind of grand management plans, in things like buildings, rather than the people.”
Massey student and Green List MP Francisco Hernandez said, “the University doesn't have its priorities in the right order. They've been trying to kickstart their Singapore campus, and they invested just a few years back in building a bunch of buildings that they've ended up having to lease out again or sell.”
“But what they need to be doing is investing in the number one asset of any university, and that's the people.”
He believed the wider issue was within the tertiary sector, and Government cuts.
Late last year, the Tertiary Education Commission cut $52 million in funding for four major universities, including Massey. The commission defended its actions by saying enrolment numbers had dropped.
A Massey University spokesperson said, “The university has recently increased its pay offer from 1.5 per cent to 2 per cent and this was done in consideration of improvements in its financial deficit.”
The university had a budget deficit of $40 million last year and has projected to have a deficit of $30 million this year.
The spokesperson said that while the university respects employees right to strike, the university also has the legal right to reduce the pay for employees who choose to withhold their labour through strike action.
“We cannot comment on the decisions and response actions of other universities in respect of strike action. Massey did not reduce pay during previous strike actions in October 2022 when some other institutions decided on that course of action. Each university makes its own decisions according to its own set of circumstances.”
Regarding the Singapore campus they said, “The university has not prioritised the expansion over staff pay. No New Zealand based funds are being invested in to Singapore and the new campus will be self-sufficient.”
They clarified that the work in Singapore is the domain of Massey Global Singapore Private Limited, a wholly owned subsidiary of Massey University.
Long term, the expectation is that Massey Global Singapore Private Limited will return to its previous practice of making financial dividends to the parent, Massey University.
Regarding bargaining process and details, the spokesperson said its confidential.
“The university is now taking a short period of time to reflect on the unions’ claims and on aspects of our bargaining position.”
They said the university has engaged with claims for the living wage.
However, Ben Schmidt an organiser from TEU said the university had not recognised or responded to requests for fair pay.
“This is a protest to keep up with the cost of living, a fair pay rise, this is not being recognised or responded to by the employer.”
WORDS BY REBECCA HOGAN A SHE/HER
During Te Wiki o te Reo Māori, a student posted on the Massey@Distance Facebook page angered that their Te Tiriti paper had been replaced with Project Management.
The paper called, The Treaty of Waitangi in New Zealand Society, has been retired as a compulsory paper for students majoring in Health Promotion through the School of Health Sciences. The class is still available as an elective.
The student’s Facebook post stated, “This doesn’t feel right!” sparking kōrero about integrating Te Tiriti in classes, or having separate courses for it.
Former student, Lace Cat, commented on the post saying the treaty paper was fundamental for her degree.
She wrote, “I can’t imagine that ‘project management’ would be a suitable replacement for that kind of knowledge.”
When approached to elaborate, Cat said the content taught in the treaty paper revealed a side of Aotearoa’s history that “shocked” her as it was so different from what she’d been taught before starting university.
Health Science lecturer, Angelique Reweti, was asked how the management paper would adequately replace content taught in the treaty paper.
She said the university is taking a more integrated approach when it comes to Te Tiriti content in health courses.
“While 152.252 Project Management does not replace the specific Te Tiriti content from 150.201, its inclusion addresses a different but complementary set of competencies that are critical for health promotion work.”
She said Te Tiriti content has been included across nearly all courses in the Health Promotion major.
“This approach allows students to engage with Te Tiriti o Waitangi throughout their learning journey, reflecting the real-world application in health promotion work where Te Tiriti is central to all areas of public health in Aotearoa New Zealand.”
Reweti said three of the majors' compulsory courses are from Te Pūtahi-a-Toi (The School of Maori Knowledge).
To provide context within the flurry of opinions in the Facebook comment section, professor in Public Health Christina Severinsen acknowledged concerns.
Severinsen wrote, “While we have removed 150.201 as a standalone course, we have expanded the integration of Te Tiriti o Waitangi learning across nearly all courses in the Health Promotion major. This approach ensures that Te Tiriti o Waitangi is not isolated in a single course but woven throughout your learning journey.”
Severinsen told Massive that the changes had been led by the College of Health Tiriti mentors team, and that by next year, 15 out of 20 compulsory courses will have Te Tiriti-focused learning outcomes.
Both figures in the College of Health maintained that the changes reflect both the college and Massey’s commitment to delivering an inclusive education that prepares students to thrive and recognise Te Tiriti o Waitangi.
MBY ELIZABETH MOISSON
assey University is waiting for resource consent from the Palmerston North council to build a large solar panel farm, but a retired lecturer believes the location choice is a bad idea.
Last year, Massey University announced plans to host one of NZ’s largest solar farms in partnership with Solar Bay.
The solar arrays are expected to produce around 38% of the campus electricity.
Massey aims to place these solar panels in a horse grazing location, as well as Orchard Carpark.
Alan Palmer, a retired professor that worked for Massey for 30 years said the site sits on the flood plain of the Turitea Stream.
“We should not be placing major infrastructure on flood plains, there are no stop banks to prevent flooding, and it would destroy the natural nature of the stream.”
Massey wants to decrease their carbon emissions with the solar panel project, however, Palmer said power generation will always have a carbon footprint.
“Solar panels need mined minerals, some of which are found in NZ if we dig them up.”
Solar panel farms should be on flat, gentle slopes, or in areas that are not prone to flooding, or away from vegetation, and grazing land, according to Manawa Energy.
Allanah Ryan, the associate director in sustainability, policy and communication told Massive, “There is not much to update about this project at the moment as it is with the PNCC waiting for resource consent.”
Ryan said the resource consent “shouldn’t be too far away”.
Jayden Alcock, a second-year linguistics student was on board with the solar panel idea, however, he referenced the irony of the plans due to the university’s relationship with Fonterra.
“It feels like a greenwashing exercise when they have a comfortable relationship with New Zealand's largest polluter (Fonterra) right across the road.”
Ben Penno, president of the Horticulture Society, felt good about the location as the solar panels “won't be in any commercially operated farms or native areas”.
“Generally, I think it is fine to install the panels. It seems like an effective way for Massey to achieve carbon zero status while being fiscally responsible.”
He felt as a research institute, it's probably good for Massey to be one of the first entities in the country to explore solar panels in paddocks.
He felt the plans align with the university’s values of supporting and advancing New Zealand farming and productivity.
The university aims for the solar panel agreement with Solar Bay to continue for 25 years.
After 25 years, the university wants to purchase all the electricity generated and transfer ownership from Solar Bay to themselves.
I lost my mum unexpectedly at the beginning of last year. I was dragged into a new chapter that day. And home, nor my perception of it, will never be the same.
And yet every day since October 7th, I accepted the absolute privilege of not having lost my home in the way that so many Gazans have lost theirs.
That 43,000 is made up of around 41,431 Palestinians, and 1,706 Israeli deaths, according to Al Jazeera (although the injury toll and firm numbers are unclear). A YEAR SINCE O CTOBER 7TH
To hold a loved ones hand, as they pass away in dignity, is something so many dream of. As hundreds of thousands of mothers, fathers, daughters, sons and friends, die all at the hands of another's bullets, machinery and ideology.
As you read this, the death toll in Gaza will be higher than the roughly 43,000 it stands at as of October 1st. Today marks exactly 365 days of constant, inhumane war in Gaza.
To be sitting and reading this, without the background echo of shelling and gunfire, is a ‘normalcy’ of ours that so many can only fantasise about.
Many believe what's happening is nothing to do with us, or think that the genocide in Gaza came out of the blue. However, there is a long history that led us here.
In the 1930’s a movement emerged within factions of the Jewish community, called Political Zionism, where the desire was to create a solely Jewish state following years of unfathomable prosecution. Today, Zionism is often associated with far-right, extremist politics, and the Israeli Defence Force (I.D.F).
Following the tragedies of the Holocaust, with the desire to find home, roughly 60,000 Jewish people migrated to Palestine following the war which was mostly populated by Muslim-Palestinians at the time. Palestine has historically been home to many due to the religious significance of the land.
Following internal disputes, the UN General Assembly passed a resolution in 1947 partitioning the state into two. The Muslim-Palestinian population didn’t agree with the proposal presented, and so neighbouring allies began arriving in support.
When Israel declared its independence on May 14th, 1948, after Britain's departure, a two-year conflict began the following day. This conflict garnered the name ‘Nakba’, which translates to ‘catastrophe’.
The Times claims that 15,000 people were killed during the Nakba. With 531 Muslim-Palestinian towns and historic cultural sites destroyed, and new towns built over top. Allegedly, the I.D.F also used biological warfare to poison human drinking water.
The horrors of this mass expulsion are still mourned today. Many academics draw connections between the 1940s Nakba and the current genocide in Gaza.
As of September 2024, 76 years after the Nakba, the United Nations reported that 9 out of 10 Gazans have been displaced at least once. That's roughly 1.9 million people.
Home is where the heart is, but what if you can’t find either anymore?
I guess we mustn't forget that when money’s involved, it becomes that much more complicated for governments and institutions to remove investments with the perpetrator. Even when there has been consistent calls to do so from protesters across the globe.
Al Jazeera reported in August that the US was investing $3.5 billion in Israel. This was so Israel could invest in American-made weapons and military equipment.
I’m no genius, but that seems rather circular and a win-win for both Israel and the US... not the people on the other end of said weaponry.
At what point does the extreme loss of human life become more important than the loss of money, power, and bragging rights?
Israel’s Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, maintains that any notions of the war in Gaza being a 'genocide' are false, and that Israel’s movements in Gaza and Lebanon are far from over.
A statement from Israel on October 1st highlighted its planned advancements of “limited, localised and targeted” ground raids directed at the militant group ‘Hezbollah’, in Lebanon. This force thousands to evacuate to Syria.
Al Jazeera reports that 60% of the people currently fleeing the place they called home, are Syrian refugees, who must now return to the space they traumatically left behind.
On day 12 of Israel's advancement in Lebanon, over 1,000 people have been killed, including some key militant leaders. And yes, Gaza is still facing relentless attacks, despite additional I.D.F attacks in Yemen and Syria.
This comes down to a complex kōrero about the privilege of having somewhere secure to call home.
I've always been thirsty for justice, and it only feels fair that we demand our Government, representatives, and institutions to be educated on the past, to be humane, and to not only listen but take a stand.
This piece was written in memory of my beautiful mother, Gillian Marie Hodgson-Hogan. Thank you for always encouraging me to move through this world with empathy and passion.
Maisie 7 October 2024 ��
!!!SUBLET FOR SUMMER!!! 1Y
$283.45 per week (not including utilities)
The room comes with built in shelves, and a water tank that doubles as a heater and desk. No windows, but I just keep the door open.
Seven flatmates. Ages range from 18 to 67, so looking for someone similar. One of the flatmates, Jerry, deals with the rat infestation. His main hobby is taxidermy. LGBT+ friendly (Leslie is a lesbian... I think). 77
We keep to ourselves, but sometimes we hang out in my room since its the biggest
My flatmates now graciously laugh at the times when one of our mums started crying as she moved us in, mopping mould off the ceiling, rat-catching comps, and my window falling out into the street and not being fixed for a month.
We were once shown photos of a friend k-holing in our shower, and at the same flat, a previous tenant allegedly fell off the balcony.
Coming from two different cities, but the same university, Sarah and I understand the feeling of brain-numbing cold and coughing mould out of your lungs. These ‘character building homes’ are a common living experience for students around the country.
According to a 2022 survey by Newsroom, tertiary students in New Zealand are more than twice as likely to be living in mouldy homes. Māori and students with disabilities are even more likely.
Out of 522 students surveyed, two thirds of them said that they could see their breath inside their homes.
I ask Sarah why her landlords had not attempted to fix the crumbled remains of their vanity, and an awkward situation arose Sarah's landlords are her flatmate's parents.
"When we ask him if his parents can fix the bathroom, he says we can just fix it ourselves if it bothers us that much.”
Using their son as a money laundering scapegoat, the landlords originally told Sarah she would be paying $125 weekly. It was only after moving in that she had to pay $165.
Similarly, my former landlord is a skilled alchemist, spinning shitholes into a gold rush. He charged me $240 for a room that felt like I was sleeping outside, and said he was too busy with all his other properties.
As he would churn out another excuse, my eyes wandered from his ridiculously red Air Forces to the large wad of multi-coloured keys, and I wondered how many other 19-year-olds he allowed to suffer from respiratory infections.
During a bit of a rowdy night at Sarah's, a mat belonging to the landlords was sacrificed to the fire pit. After the son ratted them out, the landlords demanded $250 once the mat was replaced, which they refused and threatened the tenancy tribunal.
"I was like, hold the fucking phone, no, we are not.”
While Sarah and her flatmates shiver under the one heat pump in the hallway, the flatmate and his parents are on a European ski trip.
Despite living in squalor, Sarah says she would consider staying in the flat if the rent was cheaper. "I would stay if the rent were $125, and I'd be satisfied despite the mould”.
Sarah and I agree that there is an unhinged kind of fun that comes with terrible flats.
We share stories of stealing street signs, smoking cigarettes inside, scaling the balcony when the front door stopped working, and breaking the toilet seat after one too many ‘bathroom dance parties’. I even remember Chromecasting a virtual fire to stay warm.
Sarah loves the boys she lives with, whom she has known since primary school, and loves hosting in their homemade tin hut in the backyard.
Whilst we both agree that Massey flatting culture is fucked and renters' rights need to be elevated, it's kinda funny when your flat is that bad.
My second year flat, which sits on a faux throne at the top of Wallace Street, will forever be the worst and best thing that happened to me.
*Name changed for anonymity.
Not too far from here, there stands a house. A rickety old thing, narrow and towering over soft streetlights on quiet nights. When the current owner bought it, the only bathroom was an outhouse in the overgrown backyard, littered with leaves and branches and the passage of time. It changed, of course, by the time these inhabitants moved in, but the outhouse remains a hiding place for spiders and flighty little shadows. With a gentle creak, the front door swings open.
Three distinct personalities coexist in this old townhouse, leaving imprints and echoes in every cracked tile and scuffed floorboard. They shine through in every scattered memory and patterned corner, but it is their rooms that give the clearest glimpse into their minds.
One lives in a haven of knowledge and dreams, cracked book spines and the soft rustle of paper. Novels spill across every surface, stacked high on shelves and bursting with colour. Slumbering below the window is a worn writing desk, found on the side of the road and lovingly carried down busy streets to find its new home. It is worth every minute of that hour-long trek through town, and has seen many long nights of writing as its new owner spins a tale of fairy hunting, to one day join the books on her shelf.
Across the hall there exists a person out of time, surrounded by a forest of her own making. This soul is one that would be at home in the 70s, vintage clothes folded and placed neatly on warm green bedding. Every piece of clothing and accessory has been carefully curated over the years, pried from the jaws of second-hand stores. Vinyl records decorate the walls, scattered amongst shelves of hanging plants and the rich scent of earth. A stash of home-made cookies is a permanent fixture in here, perfect for late nights and the comforting smell of baking.
There is not a single curtain in this house after mould was discovered on the ones in this room. They figured it was better safe than sorry, and the time-traveler's plants soak in every extra ray of sunlight that spills across the floor.
The weathered staircase grows narrow as it ascends to the third level, where two turrets stand proud. Stained glass windows filter sunlight and cast vibrant shadows across the floorboards. The third soul of this house resides here, up a set of stairs so slim that a bed frame could not pass through.
One of the turrets is blacked out with tapestries, illuminated by fairy lights, lamps, and flickering candles. Coming from a family of witches, the stash of crystals scattered across the ground is no surprise. Up here, at the summit of the house, the air is sharp with magic. Books on women’s history and culture are cracked open, and it is all too easy to imagine ghosts and spirits emerging from their pages to guide her through the turbulent ups and downs of life.
Three souls occupy this place, and it is in the living room where their lives overlap. Pieces of themselves exist in harmony here, a witch’s string lights glowing like the fairies from the English major’s mind, plants that don’t fit in the 70s bedroom suspended in time, books that broke free of their shelves in the writer’s room, crystals that made their way down from the arcane turret. Faded beanbags lie beside a sunken crimson couch they rescued from the tip shop, scavenging and rehoming pieces that others threw out. One such thing is a fat orange cat they adopted off the street, he hates men but feels safe in this place. Orange cat hair is a familiar sight all through the flat.
These three souls infuse this old place with life. Perhaps not friends with the spiders in the outhouse, but certainly familiar with the shadows. Three souls that have learned to make their own light and share it in the place their worlds overlap.
Sitting in my shoebox of a bedroom, my flatmate shouting a reminder that the rent and utilities bill is due, I can’t help but think what it would be like to live in the rolling hills and trees outside my window.
My mind drifts to the housing crisis that has all of Aotearoa in a chokehold, and the idea of whakapapa living in their homemade wharepuni starts to seem appealing.
I’m Māori, and a large majority of us have been rural for centuries. Whenua, the land, is integral to our being, our way of life. Before colonisation changed how we lived forever, Māori were incredible at sustainably using the land to thrive.
And if they could do it, then surely, I can too.
I wake up to a sunny morning, having checked the weather the night before, and face my new frontier. Admittedly, I lounge in my boyfriend’s bed for a few extra hours and soak up modern luxury before leaving it behind.
When the sun dips further, I finally force myself away from my mouse-infested flat. Off I go, with nothing but the clothes on my back and the strength of my whakapapa to guide me along the path my people have long navigated. With their ancestral knowledge and my indigenous instincts, I quickly reach the site that I will call home...
The backyard of my flat.
To those with complaints about ‘authenticity’, just know my flat backyard is no picnic. A thick wall of bush encroaches the property line, with admittedly non-native but still impressive pine trees towering around our flat. The terrain is coarse and uneven, native birds sing and swoop at one another, and my flatmates and I are 99% sure the house was built on an anthill. It’s about as rural as you can get living in central Wellington.
But now I’ve set foot in this unfamiliar territory, I realise just how daunting my endeavor is.
Early Māori wrote the blueprint on living off the land. They slept in wharepuni's, which were well-crafted buildings structured from different parts of trees in order to be durable.
I have a few hours at most before it gets dark to build my own wharepuni. And I can only use whatever is loose and strewn about the backyard, since I’m pretty sure my landlord wouldn’t be a big fan of me cutting down his trees.
Luckily for me, the bush is encroaching on the property a bit too much, and some of the trees have been hacked at. But the tree pieces are heavy as fuck, and I almost slip trying to move them.
My solution? I pop my head through the window of my Pākehā boyfriend’s room, where he is sitting at his desk.
“Can you come outside and help me build my wharepuni?”
“I don’t really want to right now.”
“But you will, because you love me.”
“I do love you, but I still don’t want to.”
“But you will, because it’s land reclamation and you owe me reparations.”
He sighs and gets up from his desk.
Almost three hours later, after a lot of yelling about architecture and one near miss on a big toe, the wharepuni is complete. It’s very uneven and low to the ground, since my boyfriend kept going on about me getting “crushed by logs if it collapses” and whatever.
All the hard work has made me hungry, which leads me to my second problem.
While early Māori caught wildlife and carved their own tools, there’s no nearby water source for me to try fishing (and it’s pretty illegal to eat native birds these days). Our backyard does have space for a garden, but all that’s in it are some spring onions the previous tenants had planted and a sad looking lemon tree.
Eyeing up the meagre selection, I look to my boyfriend. He sighs, again, and heads into the flat to raid the kitchen.
The kai he brings back is lackluster. But that’s mostly because I ask for stuff that is as pre-colonial as possible and he tries his best to humour me.
I get potatoes, a warm bowl of vegetable soup with no spoon, and a bag of chicken nibbles. I hand him back the chicken if I’m not going to risk damaging the trees, then I can't go lighting fires to cook with.
By this point the sun has all but disappeared, and it’s getting dark. I set up three blankets within the wharepuni and crawl inside to bundle up for the night. I lay there, taking in the sounds and smells of the night, and try to go to sleep.
I last all of thirty minutes.
I’m sorry, but the wharepuni was fucking uncomfortable and we’re only just coming out of Winter. And while I do love the cry of the ruru at night, I also hear some freaky ass sounds out there.
With a heavy heart, growling stomach and shivering body, I make my walk of shame back into my flat. As it turns out, the path my whakapapa followed is rough, and I’m not quite ready to walk it without falling flat on my face.
I don’t think I have any room to complain about rent prices as I crawl back into bed with my boyfriend. The irony of me literally leaving behind my ancestry and climbing into bed with the white man isn’t lost on me. I’ve been driven away from my ancestral roots in favour of the comforts of colonisation. Even as I bask in those comforts once more, I can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. As though I’ve failed at something that should be practically instinctual.
MAYBE ONE DAY I’LL STEP BACK ONTO THIS PATH, TRY TO MATCH MY FOOTSTEPS TO THE PRINTS THEY LEFT BEHIND LONG AGO. IF I DO, I’LL BUILD MY WHAREPUNI WITH MORE CARE, DEDICATE TIME TO A VEGGIE GARDEN, AND GIVE BACK TO THE LAND THAT HAS HOUSED US FOR SO LONG. BUT I’LL ALSO TAKE AN ELECTRIC BLANKET AND MEMORY FOAM PILLOW, AND I DON’T THINK MY ANCESTORS WILL PROTEST TOO MUCH.
WHY LET YOUR FLATMATE FLOP IN MEDIOCRITY WHEN YOU CAN BE THEIR UNWANTED LIFE COACH?
DROP PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE LIFE TIPS TAILORED TO THEIR ANNOYING HABITS: “SUCCESSFUL PEOPLE DON’T LEAVE DIRTY DISHES ON THE BENCH, BUT HEY, YOU DO YOU!”
CRAFT A VISION BOARD OF THEIR ‘DREAM’ LIFE TIDY DISHES, ACTUAL JOBS, PAID BILLS. SMOTHER THEM WITH TOXIC POSITIVITY UNTIL THEY RUN OUT THE DOOR.
FEW THINGS ARE AS UNSETTLING AS WALKING INTO YOUR ROOM TO FIND YOUR BED KEEPS MOVING AN INCH TO THE LEFT EACH DAY.
SUBTLY MOVING YOUR NIGHTMARE FLATMATE’S FURNITURE AROUND, JUST ENOUGH TO CAUSE MILD CONFUSION, IS THE BEST WAY TO MAKE THEM FEEL UNEASY IN THEIR OWN SPACE. IF CONFRONTED, ACT CLUELESS — "WHAT? YOUR DRESSER WAS ALWAYS NOT AGAINST THAT WALL, WASN’T IT?" ADD IN A SLIGHT HEAD TILT FOR EMPHASIS. OVER TIME, THEY’LL START DOUBTING THEIR MEMORY, SANITY, AND GRASP ON REALITY.
NOTHING DRIVES A PERSON TO THE EDGE QUITE LIKE THE SCREECHING WAIL OF A BEGINNER VIOLINIST AT 2AM. START OFF WITH SLOW, UNSTEADY SCALES. EVENTUALLY TRY YOUR HAND AT CLUMSY ATTEMPTS AT PACHELBEL’S CANON, VIVALDI’S FOUR SEASONS, OR EVEN SOME BACH.
YOUR OUT-OF-TUNE SCREECHES AND SCRATCHES WILL LEAVE YOUR FLATMATE BEGGING FOR MERCY. REMIND THEM THAT “ROME WASN’T BUILT IN A DAY” AND THAT THEY AREN’T SUPPORTING YOUR MUSICAL JOURNEY.
YOU GET BONUS POINTS IF YOU ASK THEM FOR SONG REQUESTS, THEN BUTCHER THEIR FAVOURITE SONGS.
THERE'S NOTHING LIKE A LITTLE PARANORMAL ACTIVITY TO SEND A FLATMATE RUNNING FOR THE HILLS. START SMALL: STRANGE TAPPING NOISES IN THE NIGHT, FLICKERING LIGHTS, MISPLACED OBJECTS. WHEN THEY ASK IF YOU HEARD ANYTHING, SAY THINGS LIKE, "OH, I’M NOT WORRIED, THE GHOST ONLY SEEMS INTERESTED IN YOU."
YOU COULD EVEN ENLIST YOUR FRIENDS TO DRESS UP AS GHOSTS AND HIDE AROUND THE FLAT. IF THEY EVER QUESTION WHY THE GHOSTS ARE ONLY GOING AFTER THEM, INSIST THAT THE SPIRITS MUST BE FIXATED ON THEIR DARK ENERGY.
LEAVE YOUR DISHES IN THE SINK UNTIL THEY GROW MOULD, NEVER BUY TOILET PAPER, BORROW MONEY AND NEVER PAY IT BACK — AKA BECOME YOUR BAD FLATMATE. IF YOU NEED MORE IDEAS, TRY TICKING OFF 35 THINGS ON THE 'HOW BAD A FLATMATE ARE YOU' QUIZ. MASSIVE
■ LEFT DIRTY DISHES FOR A DAY
■ LEFT DIRTY DISHES FOR A FEW DAYS
■ LEFT DIRTY DISHES FOR OVER A WEEK
■ PRETENDED A DIRTY DISH WAS NEVER YOURS
■ LEFT THE BENCH DIRTY AFTER COOKING
■ LEFT THE COMMON SPACE MESSY
■ LEFT LAUNDRY IN THE MACHINE/DRYER AFTER IT’S DONE
■ LEFT LAUNDRY IN THE MACHINE/DRYER AFTER IT’S DONE WITH NO BASKET OR BAG
■ HAD MORE THAN THREE GUESTS OVER WITHOUT GIVING YOUR FLATMATES A HEADS UP
■ MADE PASSIVEAGGRESSIVE COMMENTS ABOUT CLEANLINESS IN THE GROUPCHAT
■ MADE PASSIVEAGGRESSIVE COMMENTS ABOUT CLEANLINESS IN PERSON
■ CLAIMED THE BEST BEDROOM IN THE FLAT WITHOUT DISCUSSION
■ DIDN’T TAKE THE RUBBISH OUT WHEN IT WAS FULL
■ LEFT THE EMPTY TOILET PAPER ROLL ON THE HOLDER
■ DIDN’T BUY TOILET PAPER/ DISHWASHING LIQUID/ SOAP/RUBBISH BAGS WHEN IT WAS YOUR TURN
■ IGNORED YOUR FLATMATE OVER TEXT
■ IGNORED YOUR FLATMATE IN PERSON
■ LEFT LEFTOVERS IN THE FRIDGE FOR OVER A WEEK
■ LEFT LEFTOVERS IN THE FRIDGE FOR OVER TWO WEEKS
■ LEFT LEFTOVERS IN THE FRIDGE FOR OVER A MONTH
■ USED YOUR FLATMATE’S TUPPERWARE/DISH AND NEVER GAVE IT BACK
■ SKIPPED YOUR CHORE
■ PAID RENT/WIFI/POWER LATE
■ LEFT ALL LANDLORD COMMUNICATION UP TO YOUR FLATMATES
■ HAD A PARTNER OR FRIEND OVER FOR MORE THAN A NIGHT WITHOUT ASKING
■ HAD A PARTNER OR FRIEND OVER FOR MORE THAN A WEEK WITHOUT ASKING
■ USED ALL THE HOT WATER
■ HAD SEX LOUDLY WHILE OTHERS WERE HOME
■ MASTURBATED LOUDLY WHILE OTHERS WERE HOME
■ STOLEN YOUR FLATMATES’ CLOTHES
■ STOLEN YOUR FLATMATES’ FOOD
■ COOKED BETWEEN THE HOURS OF MIDNIGHT AND 6AM
■ USED YOUR FLATMATES’ SHAMPOO/CONDITIONER/ BODY WASH WITHOUT ASKING
■ BOUGHT STUFF FOR THE FLAT WITHOUT TALKING WITH YOUR FLATMATES, THEN ASKED THEM TO SPLIT THE COST
■ BORROWED MONEY FROM YOUR FLATMATES AND DIDN’T PAY IT BACK
GOT A CONFESSION, A TAKE,NAUGHTY OR A SEXY STORY?
Listen, the rumours are true. Rowing is a cult. A sex cult.
But HEAR ME OUT! Have you ever seen a rowing boy in the middle of summer? Washboard abs, glowing tan, sweaty and hunky AS FUCK. It's hot. It's why I stayed in rowing for so long (sue me).
One summer, I was having a fling with this rowing guy at the same club as me. We were cleaning up the boats one evening. One moment we were just chilling out in the boatshed, having cutesy little chats, next thing I know we were dry humping each other on a shelf which was holding up three rowing boats.
Clothes came off, dicks and clits were sucked, and just as he climaxed... the shelf broke. Three rowing boats fell down and smashed on the concrete floor.
Bad timing for us, unfortunately, because our coach had forgotten his wallet at the club and had come back to grab it when he heard the crash.
He ran into the room to find my hot-boy-rower knocked out on the ground, still with a hard dick sticking straight in the air, and me butt naked standing next to his unconscious body.
We both still owe the rowing club about $30,000.
Personally, I don’t like to be pissed on. However, I find pissing on others quite arousing. But I didn’t always feel this way.
It wasn’t until I took the ‘Benefits of Wiz’ paper at Massey that I learnt about all the vitamins that are inside your piss. It makes sense really, like when you drink a Berocca and your piss becomes neon orange. The lecturer taught me that our wee is a natural probiotic, with lots of nutrients and anti-aging properties.
So, I see receiving a golden shower as an act of love. Your partner is gifting you vitamins and minerals. And also giving you a fake tan. Q.
I first tried out my newfound golden shower kink on a horse whose coat was looking rather pale. I was staying at my granny’s paddock at the time, and she was really excited to have me over. She was constantly looking for me every time I tried to get some privacy. So, I had to use the trough out the back.
The horsey gave me the go ahead, and I started to piss on her legs. Unfortunately... my granny walked past. She’d been looking for me to give me this cross stitch of myself that said ‘Home Sweet Home’. When I turned to thank her, I accidently got some of the golden shower on her. Sorry, gran <3
But nevertheless, both the horsey and my gran were glowing the next day.
It’s great that you’re willing to fight to protect the people you love. But take a different approach this week. Let them stand on their own two feet and fight their own battles. It will turn out better than you expect.
Something exciting and a long time coming happened to you last week. Relish in the joy for a couple more days before finding something new to look forward to.
Your romantic side has been feeling left out recently. You miss connection and are struggling to find it. Watch your old fave rom com to
Your multitasking skills are going to come in useful this week, Gemini. You’re going to be balancing a lot on your plate. Make a to-do list each day so you don’t lose track — use highlighters and stickers to add some fun.
Remember to actually use common sense this week. If you get sick or injured, please just go to the doctor. It won’t just go away on its own this time.
Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it hasn’t got you! .... Yet. Be careful with who you question this week, Sagittarius. You might bite off more than you can chew.
You’re a great listener, Flat hunting and upcoming handins are stressful, but that’s not an excuse to snap at your friends. Take a step back and stop being so argumentative before you say something you can’t take back.
and they could really use a helping hand.
This week is going to be a lucky one for you, Virgo. Your patience is finally paying off, and something great is coming your way. Keep up that Virgo tolerance and
You are very open-minded except when it comes to that one person who grinds your gears with their obnoxious opinions. Try and be openminded to what they have to say before you start a debate.
Your body is craving dancing Pisces. You’ve been feeling angry, and you need to let it out to your favourite song. Have a boogie somewhere private until you start to sweat — you'll sleep better after too.
2. Reality show where couples refurbish a home and sell it at an auction (3,5)
5. Te reo Māori word for sleeping house (9)
7. Countryside (5)
10. Song by American rock band Lynyrd Skynyrd (5,4,7)
11. Singer who stars in kids' movie Home (7)
12. 2006 animated movie about a haunted house (7,5)
14. Australian household hardware and garden centre chain (8)
15. Nickname for flatmates (8)
16. Where is the Premier House? (8)
18. The process of repairing and improving something (10)
19. TV show starring Kevin McCloud visiting building project sites (5,7)
20. Nickname for The Warehouse (4,5)
21. Saying about home (4,2,5,3,5,2)
1. Film about Playboy bunny Shelley moving in with a sorority full of awkward girls (3,5,5)
3. 70s architectural feature that incorporates built-in seating into a depressed section of flooring (12,3) 4. 80s song about West Virginia (4,2,4,7,5) 6. Real Estate company (3,5)
8. American magazine about interior design and landscaping (13,6)
9. A room with a glass ceiling and walls that bring in maximum sunlight (12)
13. A smaller community adjacent to or within commuting distance of a city (6)
17. Christmas movie starring Macaulay Culkin (4,5)
SwampFest is an iconic annual celebration of Palmerston North's diverse and vibrant music scene, showcasing local talent and fostering a sense of community through the power of live music.
Launched in 1996, SwampFest was born out of a desire to give underground and alternative artists a platform to share their music, and it has since become a beloved staple of Palmy's cultural calendar.
Over the years, the festival has changed shape, size and venue,
all while staying true to its grassroots beginnings.
The festival is organised by The Stomach, Palmerston North's community music venue, rehearsal space and recording studio.
This year, SwampFest will be run exclusively from The Stomach. Expect a lineup packed with a diverse range of bands and artists representing everything from indie rock and punk to electronic and experimental sounds all born from the Swamp.
As always, the festival will maintain its relaxed, welcoming vibe, making it a great event for everyone, whether you're a longtime Palmy local or a new student to the scene.
SwampFest’s enduring popularity stems from its DIY ethos, community spirit, and dedication to promoting local talent.
So, grab your tickets from The Stomach, 84 Lombard Street.
Get your SwampFest merch via Print Mighty and join us in celebrating the best of Palmerston North's music and creative scene!
AARIA HUNIA
EDITOR IN CHIEF
SAMMY CARTER
SHE/HER
TE AO MĀORI EDITOR
NGĀTI AWA, NGĀTI RANGITIHI
SHE/HER
PUKEAHU REPORTER
REBECCA HOGAN
SHE/HER
HEAD OF DESIGN
SUB-EDITOR
LUKA MARESCA
HE/THEY
NATALYA NEWMAN
THEY/SHE
MANAWATŪ REPORTER
ELIZABETH MOISSON
SHE/HER
STAFF WRITER
JESSIE DAVIDSON
SHE/HER
TE AO MĀORI ILLUSTRATOR
KEELIN BELL
NGĀTI MANIAPOTO, TI POROU, NGĀ
ŌTEHĀ REPORTER
YESENIA PINEDA
STAFF WRITER
HE/HIM
ILLUSTRATOR JESS SKUDDER
SHE/THEY
MAISIE ARNOLD-BARRON
SHE/HER
MASSIVE P*SSY POCKET
POCKET WOULD NOT PROVIDE PURRRNOUNS
COVER PHOTOGRAPHY BY LUKA MARESCA
CENTREFOLD BY JESS SKUDDER
SHE/HER
