The main street of Ōpōtiki.
Photo: RNZ / Alexa Cook
Desperate times call for desperate measures – and on the streets of Ōpōtiki in Bay Of Plenty, it’s butter on the chopping block.
While some residents are forgoing small pleasures like real dairy, others are giving up entirely on saving for retirement, or going so far as to commit benefit fraud to put bread on the table.
Alexa Cook reports as part of Pinch Point – an ongoing RNZ series about living with the cost of living.
“When the price of butter is like $12, I don’t even eat it anymore. I’ve taught myself not to like it!”
That’s the strategy of one Ōpōtiki resident who spoke to RNZ on the small town’s main street, facing butter prices as the country has never seen before.
“It’s just little things, eh?” she said. “I’m probably more conscious of my spending than I ever used to be, and I’m buying in bulk. As many tips and tricks as I can get.”
RNZ found even people on two incomes with no dependent children could not escape the impacts of the rising cost of living.
Photo: RNZ
One woman said: “We have no dependents now, but we no longer save, and that’s a concern of ours because we still have 10 or 15 years-plus before we retire and we still have to keep on working.”
Ōpōtiki gift shop owner Carol Hata was seeing it first-hand. Her shop was quiet, and she said few customers were coming through the door.
Ōpōtiki gift shop owner Carol Hata.
Photo: RNZ / Alexa Cook
“For the lower income people, we are in a bad situation,” she said. “The rich are getting richer and the poor poorer. It is a struggle for people out there to just live, let alone have luxury items.”
It was a feeling shared by one Bay of Plenty resident, who did not want to be named. She had moved in with her dad in Edgecumbe after they were both made redundant.
“It’s been quite a struggle because I’m also a single mum and trying to make sure my son has everything with the [increase] of all the costs – food, rates, and then we have power and gas.
“Every single thing has shot right up and when it comes to food, you go to the supermarket and get five items, it’s like $150,” she said.
She felt the situation had gradually become worse over the past two years.
“Slowly and slowly, you get used to how it is, then it gets worse … then you get used to that and then it goes up again, and it just keeps going up,” she said.
Whakaatu Whanaunga Trust’s food bank in Ōpōtiki was busier than ever, feeding about 500 people a year.
Its food parcel was in higher demand during the colder months when people grappled with bigger power bills and fewer jobs in the region’s orchards and farms.
The trust’s financial mentor and whanau support worker, Nursy Pirini, told RNZ it was not just beneficiaries who were struggling to put food on the table – even those with employment were seeking help.
Nursy Pirini at the Whakaatu Whanaunga Trust’s food bank.
Photo: RNZ / Alexa Cook
“There’s little opportunity to save for retirement or holidays, most people are just making do,” she said.
The food bank was supported by the community, including local schools, supermarkets, churches, growers and other businesses.
The majority of people accessing its services were on a benefit, which Pirini said with the rising cost of living often did not cover essential living expenses such as rent, food and power.
“So they must look at other ways in which they can help themselves, like carpooling and utilising the environment. We are the land of plenty – we have the bush at our backdoor for hunting, we have the sea for fishing,” she said.
Through her budgeting services, she knew most families of four were spending more than $350 a week on basic groceries.
It was forcing some to take desperate measures, such as forging letters from work and income about their eligibility for food parcels.
“The other day we had one [person] who committed fraud and wrote over their specific letter. We’ve informed Work and Income, who are checking it out,” said Pirini.
Food prices were up five percent on this time last year, and even those doing okay were worried for the friends and neighbours.
“My friends have got multiple children and they might have elders living with them as well – their kaumatua, their parents,” said one Ōpōtiki resident. “I feel real sad for how they are coping at the moment.”
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