Country Living – How to fix the housing crisis (part 2)

Further to my last column, and before we were rudely interrupted by the Delta variant, I had promised to hatch out a rather ingenious and creative plan for a temporary fix to help ease some of the appalling housing crisis our communities are suffering. Being only the ideas woman, I would first gather some of our community’s finest (think lawyers, accountants, and planners) to sit nice and tight on my wing to help me push this baby through the goalpost and replace the bloated system of pen-pushers and bureaucrats that are currently roadblocking solutions.

Armed with a fist full of cash from the now scrapped and glutinous cycle bridge fiasco, my team, comprised of those who don’t crumble like a cookie in a crisis, would politely ask the bureaucrats to kindly step aside to give us a clear pathway to help those in need, but void of greed, out of grotty, expensive and crammed motel rooms.

Gifted to the people by the people sits Ātiu Creek farm park in Tapora. It would be my intention to borrow 100 hectares of its 843 hectares for my temporary community until the Government gets its sh*t together to actually do something about this crisis. Being mindful and respectful of our hard-earned public money, and the financial impact that Covid has had, perhaps it’s timely for us to become rule breakers not rule makers. I intend to scrap most of the consent costs for my project. I find it dumb to charge the public gazillions for glaringly obvious logic and the tried-and-true methods.

This money is better off in the productive sector, so the lads at Auckland Council can just put that bloated invoice straight back in their pockets. My heart refuses to believe that philanthropists gift with the intent of making money for the system. Therefore, we have the land for free and consenting for free, which equals winning. Now, with temporary land secured, please put your hands together for the stars of this housing show – our incredible local tradies and contractors, who have the magical skills to bring dreams into practical reality. Yee ha!
Pride and respect are a most beautiful by-product of ownership, so with this in mind I believe a scheme offering a rent-to-buy option for the “home only”, with the full understanding that the sited land is only available until a more permanent solution is found. After doing a pack of research I believe a mix of quality spec container and tiny homes is the answer.

The container homes could be placed on skids with fold-down, awning-style verandas and clip-on decks. They could be added to (and subtracted from) according to family size.

Continuing with my low impact theme, the homes will be solar powered with removable roof panels. Each site will have a buried septic system because the new ones are incredible, and water will be supplied by individual rainwater tanks. This form of low-impact living is not only good for our environment, but teaches the lovely ethos of living softly alongside our natural resources, and it hugely mitigates outrageous interim development costs. With no power or water bills, residents will have savings in their wallets. Don’t believe it’s possible? Then take yourself over to Great Barrier Island because this low impact living is exactly how all those happy campers live.
In case you thought I had forgotten about employment opportunity, don’t worry I’m hot on it. After researching a wonderful scheme in the Far North that orchardists are implementing to help ease people back into the workforce and create sustainable local employment, perhaps the massive orchard operations out this way could trial a similar scheme. Employment gives such wonderful dignity and self-worth.

Admittedly, I don’t have all the answers. I am really struggling with how to deal with anti-social behaviour. It would be my preference to jam myself between the jaws of a sabre-toothed tiger than live next to a drongo’s and hooligan’s place. This would be best left to those who are more PC because I would take a ruthless hard line on that.

So there you have it, a good ‘ol Kiwi “number 8 wire solution” to an appalling crisis and our country’s grubby little secret. For me, there is no rulebook for fixing desperation, and New Zealand does not have to be a cookie-cutter country with mass-produced standards often feathered from afar. Simplicity holds much beauty. So to the eye-rollers and brow-beaters who are reading this under their secure roof, your horrified angst is currently being drowned out by us problem solvers, rule breakers and happy glampers. Our ambiguity should be seen as a great gift of hope – let’s pluck it like a blossom from those who have it, and use it in a bouquet of hope, dignity, and security for those who need it.