Homelessness is a long-standing issue in Northland that’s only getting worse. The Ministry of Housing and Urban Development’s latest Homelessness Insights Report shows the number of people living without shelter has increased, particularly in the Far North and Whangārei districts. Reporter Jenny Ling talks to three Northlanders who have dedicated
Northland community heroes tackle homelessness and poverty head-on

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Petrina Pitman, pictured with her daughter June-Rose, has found her calling in feeding those who need a helping hand. Photo / Michael Cunningham
She got mixed up with a gang and spent many more years living “in survival mode”.
Even after ending up in a psychiatric hospital, diagnosed with a myriad mental health conditions, she knew she was meant for greater things.
“My identity was ripped away when I was young.
“It was like I was destined to do something great on earth, but there was always something trying to stop me.
“I was so stuck and couldn’t see any hope - but then there was hope.”
That hope was from her religious faith and friend Phil Roil, whom she met at the Salvation Army in Lower Hutt 15 years ago.
With his support, she found a purpose in helping others and feeding the homeless.
Several years later, she moved to Northland, where the need was just as great.
“When I came to Whangārei, I wanted to check out my neighbourhood in Raumanga.
“I did a small sausage sizzle at the pools.
“I noticed the need was greater than what I imagined. It went from there.”
Pitman approached the local Salvation Army, then helped to form Te Korowai o Ihu Karaiti Ministries.
Now 49 and living in Takahiwai, Pitman has been providing meals and essential items to rough sleepers in Whangārei and Dargaville for about 10 years.
She also organises free Christmas lunches and arranges funeral services so the homeless can say their goodbyes with dignity.
“What’s happened to me and my life I can see in these people out here replaying all over again.
“We have prisons inside of us.
“I’ve always known I’ve had a wairua [spiritual essence] and I followed that.
“Since I started feeding the homeless, I’ve seen many successful stories.
“I have volunteers that were homeless that now help me serve.
“A lot of the homeless have homes now.”
Monte Tito
Kaikohe community chaplain Monte Tito was always destined to be a guiding light for the underprivileged.
For four decades, the 72-year-old has been helping the homeless, struggling families, meth addicts, and inmates discharged from Ngāwhā prison.
He started when he was a 33-year-old painter, soon after a fight broke out at his local pub.
Tito turned to his mate, who said, “We could help change this by getting people out of unemployment and into employment.”
That resulted in the establishment of Te Kotahitanga e Mahi Kaha Trust, which helps people into training programmes and jobs.
“We had all the gangs in there,” Tito said.
“We said, ‘When you come through those gates, you don’t bring your patches; this is a trust.’
“It’s something that’s still operating today, still employing a lot of people.
“This has changed men’s lives.”
Later, Tito worked at the Northland Region Corrections Facility at Ngāwhā, teaching prisoners his painting trade.
His work has evolved since then; he now works as a Kaikohe community chaplain, helping lost souls who live on the streets and under trees at the local park.
There are the couch-surfers who move from house to house, unable to stay in one place because of their addictions.
One of the biggest factors in homelessness was P, he said.
“Everyone has their pain. It’s [having faith] giving them a way of dealing with that pain.
“A lot are finding peace in a P pipe, and that’s so sad.”
Tito delivers food parcels to families struggling to make ends meet.
With the rise in the cost of living and rents, some can be left with just $60 a week to feed five or six people.
These families amount to “over 100 people, sometimes more”.
Tito works alongside charities including The Koha Shop in Kaikohe to distribute furniture, clothing and homeware.
He calls the shop, whose motto is take what you need and give what you can, “a blessing”.
“They always ask me why I do it.
“It’s the love for people in the community.
“First and foremost, we have to love one another.
“And share the love of God with our people.”
Liz Cassidy-Canning
Liz Cassidy-Canning’s life experiences have helped to shape a career in social work embedded in aroha.
As a young adult, she witnessed inequities, poverty and privilege in her whānau.
Now the chief executive of Whare Āwhina, a Whangārei-based kaupapa Māori support provider, she helps men and women to overcome their housing challenges.
She never calls them homeless; with all her years working with society’s most vulnerable, she calls them only by name.
“At one time, if I saw someone sitting on the pavement, I would have walked by.
“Now I don’t, and often I’ll stop and talk because I know them by name.”
Cassidy-Canning grew up in South Auckland, and always knew she was meant to help others.
Her two sisters are social workers, and her mother and grandmother were “helpers”.
Cassidy-Canning initially studied law at university but decided on grass-roots social work.
“There is power in community,” she said.
“The power comes from unity and connecting, and I see magic in that.
“It opens up your world.”
She has worked for numerous community organisations in Whangārei, including One Double Five Community House.
Since she’s been at the helm of Whare Āwhina, the charity has grown from eight staff to about 40.
She calls her team of community change makers, lawyers and social workers “silent heroes”.
She enjoys sharing the success stories of those they help.
“When they come into the community cafe, they feel like part of the community.
“That in itself is transformational.
“They start connecting with each other and find solutions for each other and become each other’s support network.”
Cassidy-Canning is also involved in food rescue, dropping food off at pātaka kai around town.
“At the end of the day, we’re helping with immediacy.
“When someone needs something, we can work with them to navigate that space.
“And we can do simple things like give them some food.
“Listening and having conversations is what people value the most.”
Jenny Ling is a senior journalist at the Northern Advocate. She has a special interest in covering human interest stories, along with finance, roading, and social issues.