#WhānauVoice

Te Tiratū Iwi Māori Partnership Board was honoured to attend Tainui Hui-aa-Tau 2025, hosted by Tainui iwi walking in the steps of their visionary Koiora strategy. This aspirational kaupapa brought together thousands of uri and providers across the motu to connect, share, and strengthen collective oranga.

We were there by invitation to support Whaanau Voice and deepen our understanding of how the Koiora Collective and Te Tiratū fit within the wider ecosystem of Māori health and wellbeing. While our original focus was on promoting our Oranga Survey the day quickly turned into something more — a space for heartfelt koorero and deep listening.

What we heard was despite government targets focused on faster cancer treatment, shorter ED stays, improved immunisation, and reduced wait times for specialist and elective care, whaanau at Tainui Hu-a-Tau described a system that remains slow, hard to access, is culturally disconnected, and difficult to navigate — especially for whaanau seeking kaupapa Maaori services and timely, affordable care.

Whaanau Voice Leads the Way

Our space at Hui-aa-Tau was a hive of activity, filled with whānau keen to share their experiences and insights about accessing healthcare. Many whaanau wanted to koorero at length, reflecting a widespread desire to be heard. Primary care was a consistent topic. Whānau spoke about long GP wait times, often up to four weeks, difficulty enrolling at kaupapa Maaori clinics due to capped rolls, and the frustration of not being able to see the same doctor for continuity of care. Many whaanau living rurally shared feelings of isolation from healthcare, relying on transport support from whaanau, iwi or local services. For those who could afford it, urgent care was preferred over long waits at emergency departments, but even this came with financial strain.

The Strain of Financial Pressure

Cost was a major barrier. Whaanau shared stories of having to choose between kai and seeing a doctor. Prescriptions added another burden. Even if a whaanau member managed to secure an appointment, the costs didn’t end there. Some spoke of giving up altogether — delaying care or avoiding it until it became urgent. Many whaanau weren’t enrolled with a GP at all. Some had been trying to enrol with kaupapa Maaori services but were turned away due to capacity limits. Several questioned why non-Maaori were enrolled in Maaori-specific services when they, as tangata whenua, were being declined. There was deep mamae in these koorero, and a desire for a fairer, more culturally grounded system.

The Challenge of Health Literacy for Kaumatua

Kaumatua shared personal journeys of navigating health conditions and the system without proper explanations or support. One kaumatua described an 18-month journey to get assistance to help manage his diabetes to get it under control which is a long time to be mauiui. Others expressed confusion around medication or what services were available to them. Many didn’t know where to go or how to ask for help, and several mentioned feeling whakamaa about not understanding their conditions. The language barrier was another big one, where whaanau are not able to understand a lot of different accents by non-Maaori health practitioners, they feel there is a lack of cultural safety too. For kaumatua living rurally, transport remains another major barrier. Many said that it was much easier for them to go to their local marae that was close. Many rely on once-a-week iwi transport or local hauora hubs that have now been scaled back due to funding cuts. In some areas, services that once operated five days a week now open for just one — creating high demand and limiting access.

Mental Health in Crisis

Mental health was another area of concern. Many who spoke were supporting a sibling, cousin or other whaanau member. The main issue raised was the lack of support available before a person reaches crisis or hospitalisation. Henry Bennett Centre came up repeatedly — described as difficult to deal with, lacking cultural safety, and disconnected from whaanau. Whaanau described not being informed about loved ones’ care, feeling shut out of the process, and being left to advocate for their whaanau without support.

There was a strong call for mental health services that are proactive, culturally safe, and easy to navigate. Many felt stuck trying to get help for their whaanau and repeatedly faced barriers in the process.

The Hidden Gaps in Women’s Health

A number of wahine raised concerns about the lack of accessible information around menopause. They described debilitating symptoms and feeling unsupported or dismissed. Some were surprised to learn just how little was publicly available in terms of education and care. The koorero made it clear that more kaupapa Maaori women’s health services are needed — both in delivery and in design.

Hearing Loss, Delayed Care and Advocacy

Hearing support was another unexpected but prominent theme. Many whaanau attending the hui wore hearing aids, yet no hearing-focused service was present. One kaumatua, a veteran of the New Zealand Army, shared that it took years to realise the extent of his hearing loss. Another wahine described the two-year process of trying to get care for her daughter — eventually only made possible with the help of a Maaori advocate. For these whaanau, accessing support required determination, energy, and navigating complex systems. Funding options, eligibility, and appointment access created further layers of stress. Even for tamariki, care was delayed — sometimes for years. While support grants like the kaumatua hearing aid fund exist, awareness and accessibility remain major gaps.

The Need for Rongoaa and Kaupapa Maaori Options

Throughout the day, whaanau called for more access to mirimiri and rongoaa Maaori. There was a hunger for services that reflect maatauranga Māori and are grounded in whakapapa and whaanau values. One whaanau member, supporting a younger relative who had experienced a stroke, spoke of the lack of Maaori-led recovery options. Others expressed interest in alternatives to mainstream medication but didn’t know where to start. The desire for Maaori-led, whaanau-centric, culturally affirming care was one of the strongest themes to emerge. It aligns closely with the aspirations of Tainui’s Koiora strategy and the values Te Tiratū holds as we walk alongside whaanau and providers.

A Call to Honour Whaanau Voice in System Change

Tainui Hu-aa-Tau 2025 was more than an event — it was a collective pulse check on how the health system is serving our people. Whaanau were open, honest, and generous with their koorero. Their insights paint a clear picture of a system that needs to evolve, one that genuinely centres Whaanau Voice, upholds Te Tiriti o Waitangi, and recognises hauora as a right, not a privilege. We are committed to carrying these voices forward — into our planning, our advocacy, and our partnership with Te Whatu Ora. We also mihi to Tainui iwi for their bold leadership and vision, and for the opportunity to stand together in kaupapa Maaori-led transformation. Te Tiratū will continue to listen and act — because when whaanau speak, the system must listen and respond.

Cancer impacts countless whānau across Waikato—and feedback from 23 whānau within the Tainui waka region, together with broader insights from our Community Health Plan, initial Monitoring Report, and engagement efforts from March to June, is revealing what’s effective, what’s falling short, and where services need to improve.

Our first Monitoring Report, released this month, shows that breast screening rates for wāhine Māori in Waikato continue to lag behind. Currently, just 54.5% of our wāhine are up to date with screening—7% lower than the national rate for non-Māori (64.6%). While there has been a small improvement of 1.1% since the last quarter, the pace of change remains too slow to close the equity gap.[1]

Most surveyed by our Whānau Voice team (nearly 74%) told us they regularly take part in cancer screening, particularly breast and cervical checks. Many said this is driven by personal or whānau experience of cancer. One participant shared: “My mum had cancer… I made self-referrals. I know how important it is to catch it early.”

But behind those statistics lies a more complex picture. Screening isn’t always comfortable. Over half of respondents said the process left them feeling whakamā, exposed, or in pain. Several described experiences that were rushed or poorly explained—leaving them uncertain, anxious, or unlikely to return. One woman shared: “Didn’t want to go back after last time—felt exposed.” Another added: “It was painful and no one explained anything.”

This discomfort was often made worse by a lack of cultural safety. Māori participants talked about mispronounced names, feeling spoken over, or being asked sensitive questions without privacy. “The lady at reception was white and made no effort to pronounce my Māori name,” said one. Others spoke of rushed appointments and the feeling that their experience wasn’t respected or mana-enhancing.

Not everyone receives timely results, either. Some whānau said they had to chase clinics for updates, while others described waiting months for treatment—even when a diagnosis had already been made. One respondent noted: “We waited 3–4 months, even with private insurance. Treatment took 6–9 months. Too long.”

The good news? Whānau know what would help.

They asked for more Māori doctors and support workers, better access to information, and culturally grounded care that includes warm, respectful service and more whānau-friendly settings—like marae, mobile clinics, or iwi spaces. Many called for free screening for kaumātua, flexible appointment times, and reminders by text or email, noting that these are not offered consistently.

Suggestions were practical and clear:

• “More Māori health professionals, please.”
• “Better-informed and pre-screening promotion.”
• “Use marae and iwi groups to get the message out.”
• “Have a Māori support person due to the medical language.”

A little over half of those surveyed also had a whānau member diagnosed with cancer in the last three years, and nearly half of them said they did not receive enough information about the treatment journey or support services.

There’s a clear call here—not just for more education and outreach, but for services that genuinely listen, respond, and hold space for whānau with care. As one whānau put it: “We need more manaaki-focused care. It makes all the difference.”

This kōrero reinforces the need for screening services that don’t just invite people in but hold them with dignity, understanding, and culturally safe support. Because early detection saves lives—but only if our people feel safe enough to walk through the door.

[1] Pg 13 Source: https://tetiratu.co.nz/wp-content/uploads/2025/07/2025-Te-Tiratu-IMPB-Monitoring-Report-to-March-2025.pdf

“We waited eight hours, and no one even told us how long it would be.”

This is the reality for many Māori whānau in the Waikato region, as shown in the latest Whānau Voice quarterly results that reveals the deep cracks in our primary care system.

These insights are drawn from a snapshot survey completed by 88 participants, alongside wider data gathered through our Community Health Plan, first Monitoring Report and engagement activities held between March and June. Their voices paint a clear picture judging by the indicative results, that our local health system is under immense pressure, and it’s pushing whānau to breaking point.

Despite more than 90% of respondents being enrolled with a regular GP, nearly 40% said they were unable to get an urgent appointment when they needed one. For many, the GP door feels effectively closed—whether due to fully booked clinics, high costs, or services being unavailable altogether.

In the first Health System Monitoring Report by Te Tiratū released this month, we note that key data from Te Whatu Ora is still missing. This includes:

• GP enrolment figures compared to the population (Māori vs non-Māori by age)
• Māori utilisation of GP services over the past 12, 24, and 36 months
• Māori utilisation by type of service (in-clinic vs virtual)

This lack of data limits our ability to assess equity in access and use of primary care services for Māori.[1]

So, in these moments of urgency, whānau are being forced to turn to urgent care clinics or hospital emergency departments for care that should be delivered by a GP. Nearly three-quarters of those surveyed said they had gone to A&E when they couldn’t get a GP appointment.

Of those, 29 percent reported waiting six to eight hours. Nine percent said they waited more than ten hours. Most waited without receiving any updates or basic information—86 percent received no health information during their wait, and 84 percent weren’t told how long the wait would be.

Adding to the strain, more than half of respondents said cost had stopped them or their whānau from getting care. This was particularly true for those in remote or rural areas like Tokoroa, Waharoa, and Huntly, where choices are limited and even getting to a clinic can be a challenge.

Some whānau reported being unable to enrol with a GP because no clinics were accepting new patients, or they lacked the required ID. These are not isolated stories; they reflect systemic barriers that need urgent attention.

What is Working?

Not all findings were bleak. Most people reported being able to get planned appointments when needed, and those who used telehealth services found them useful—90 percent said the advice met their needs.

Enrolment in a regular general practice remains high, which shows that there is a foundation to build from. But trust and consistency remain issues, with more than half saying they don’t get to see the same doctor each time.

This survey doesn’t just reveal long wait times or stretched services—it highlights the emotional weight of a system that too often leaves Māori whānau out of reach. It tells a story of people navigating closed doors, cost barriers, and uncertainty, just to access the care they deserve.

Te Tiratū Iwi Māori Partnership Board is using this data to advocate for urgent investment in services that are responsive, affordable, and culturally safe. Because no one should have to wait ten hours in an emergency room for care that should have been delivered in a clinic—least of all our tamariki and kaumātua.

[1] Pg 4 Source: https://tetiratu.co.nz/wp-content/uploads/2025/07/2025-Te-Tiratu-IMPB-Monitoring-Report-to-March-2025.pdf

“We’re aware. We just need more support.”
That was the clear message from rangatahi and whānau who engaged with our Whānau Voice kaimahi at the inaugural Te Mokotini ki Tainui and Tainui Secondary School Kapa Haka regionals over the weekend. Alongside thousands gathered to celebrate te ao Māori, haka excellence, and hāpori, our Te Tiratū stand was part of a ‘Hauora Hub’ inside the doors of Claudelands Event Centre. The whare was humming with conversation — and concern. From rangatahi to kaumātua, whānau shared openly about their health journeys, what’s working, and what’s failing them.

What Our Rangatahi Are Saying

Across two days, rangatahi spoke frankly about what they’re facing. They’re switched on and vocal about the lack of mental health and sexual health education in schools — especially around hauora hinengaro. Many shared they learn more from social media than from the classroom. They know mental distress is a problem among their peers but feel unsupported by the current system. They want more—more kōrero, more guidance, and more honest talk in safe spaces. One rangatahi said it best: “We talk about it on TikTok, but not in class. That’s not right.”

Vaping: From “Cool” to “Can’t Stop”

We were alarmed by how widespread vaping is among rangatahi, particularly those aged 12 to 17. Nearly all told us they had easy access — either through shops not checking ID or older siblings buying on their behalf. What began as something “cool” quickly became something they couldn’t stop. Many now feel addicted. They want to quit, but said it’s hard — and support is scarce.

Their message was clear: restrictions aren’t enough. They believe a total ban is the only way to truly protect rangatahi. Importantly, they also called for earlier education, aimed at tamariki aged 10–12, before peer pressure kicks in and the dreaded addiction cycle begins.

Vaccination? Yes. Understanding It? Not So Much.

While most rangatahi had received their HPV vaccination at school, nearly none knew what it was for. One said: “I just signed the form. I didn’t even know what it was.”

This shows a huge gap in informed consent and health literacy. Our tamariki and rangatahi deserve to know what’s going into their tinana and why.

Primary Care: Cost, Wait Times & Whānau Avoiding Help

Whānau told us loud and clear: “If it’s not for the tamariki, we just don’t go.” The reasons are simple — long wait times and unaffordable costs. Standard GP visits range from $60 to $80, and after-hours care can be as high as $180. Many are turning to emergency departments by default, not because it’s ideal, but because it’s faster and more accessible. For some, the choice between paying rent or seeing a doctor isn’t really a choice — it’s about survival. While telehealth works for a few, unclear pricing has left others feeling misled — one whānau member was shocked when their father’s online consult cost more than an in-person visit.

Cancer Screening: Awareness Growing, But Gaps Remain

Many whānau had been screened for breast, cervical, or bowel cancer, but few had completed all three — and most had to initiate the process themselves, with little guidance from GPs or nurses. A registered nurse told us that while reminders appear in patient files, many health professionals simply overlook them. For wāhine, the screening experience was often described as cold and clinical, lacking cultural safety, with many feeling whakamā — exposed, undignified, and unlikely to return. There was positive feedback too, particularly around cervical screening reminders, which were clear and helpful, and the fast, reassuring turnaround times for breast screening results. However, follow-up care was inconsistent, and whānau made it clear they want more community-based education and engagement — they want to understand what to expect, why it matters, and how to access care before it becomes urgent.

Thank you For Your Truths

We’re deeply grateful to every whānau member and rangatahi who stopped by to share a laugh, a selfie, and a story — your voices are shaping the future of our hauora. Every kōrero is being carried forward in our regular reporting and meetings with Te Whatu Ora. We’re listening, and we thank you for trusting us with your truths.