21-05-2025
Who pays when the budget cuts?
Underinvesting in early parenthood isn't saving money, it's just shifting the burden to justice, health and education systems down the line, writes E Tipu e Rea CEO Zoe Aroha Witika-Hawke.
As Budget 2025 is unveiled this week, we expect fiscal responsibility and tightening public spending to dominate headlines. But for many of the mātua taiohi we walk alongside at E Tipu e Rea Whānau Services, living with less isn't new. They're already budgeting down to the last cent, already going without so their pēpi can eat, already stretching themselves mentally and emotionally just to get through the day. The idea that this budget will ask even more of them, while offering less, should concern us all.
At E Tipu e Rea, we support hapū māmā and mātua taiohi – young parents – navigating hapūtanga (pregnancy) and early parenthood with wraparound support across housing, education, employment, midwifery, cultural wānanga, and Well Child Tamariki Ora (WCTO). We work with hundreds of whānau, Māori and non-Māori, across Tāmaki Makaurau, as our values as Ngāti Pāoa are to care for all whānau like they are our own. We're an iwi service grounded in the belief that whānau thrive when they are recognised for their mana and supported in culturally safe, affirming environments.
Investment in the first 2,000 days – conception through to their fifth huritau – is one of the smartest and most impactful decisions any government can make. We are pleased to see that the Social Investment Agency has allocated $20 million for initiatives that strengthen parenting in the first 2,000 days of a child's life, reducing harm and setting children up for better long-term outcomes, and we hope that this focus continues in future years. Our tūpuna knew that it is in those early days that brain development is most sensitive to care, connection and stress. That's why we work early and intensively with whānau, wrapping support around young parents to build stability, connection and confidence. When we invest in those 2,000 days, we prevent harm, reduce system costs long term, and build thriving future generations.
Young parents are already at the edge
In the past year, we've seen an unprecedented rise in mental distress among young Māori māmā and pāpā in our service. Our referrals team would tell you that almost every call includes disclosures about anxiety, depression or trauma. Many are parenting or navigating hapūtanga under immense pressure – surviving under benefit rules that punish more than support, and juggling unstable housing and income. The fear of not knowing where your next meal comes from – especially when it means not being able to feed tamariki – creates stress that doesn't show up in fiscal forecasts but is deeply visible in our clinics, caseloads and communities.
These pressures aren't just hard – they're dangerous. One young māmā told us just last week that the pressure she faces trying to navigate the welfare system has pushed her to the brink. Suicide remains the leading cause of death for pregnant women and new mothers in Aotearoa. That's not only a health system failure – that's a cross-sector failure. We all saw the report last week that placed Aotearoa last out of 36 countries for child and youth mental wellbeing, with the highest youth suicide rate in the developed world. These statistics are not numbers for us. They show up in the faces and lives of the young whānau we serve every day.
We are concerned that under the goal of 'efficiency' or 'targeting', this budget will pull back investment in exactly the areas where it is most needed. If we reduce funding for youth mental health, community housing, maternal wellbeing and kaupapa Māori services, the long-term social and health cost will be profound. When we underinvest in early parenthood and the first 2,000 days, we don't save money – we just shift the burden to justice, health and education systems down the line.
What we'd prioritise
If Budget 2025 wanted to improve outcomes and reduce future strain on services, it would address access to safe, stable housing for young whānau so they can parent without fear of eviction or overcrowding; culturally grounded mental health support, delivered in ways that affirm identity, recognise mana and give whānau safe spaces to heal; itegrated wraparound support, recognising that housing, income, parenting, education and health are connected and can't be siloed.
We've seen time and again that mātua taiohi do best when they're recognised as whole people – with whakapapa, dreams, leadership abilities and love for their tamariki. Their aspirations are not radical. They want to raise their tamariki in warm homes, build strong relationships, be proud of who they are and contribute to their communities. But they need systems that don't work against them.
The real question social services like ours are asking this week is: who pays when the budget cuts? We know the answer. It's our young whānau. It's the next generation. When support disappears, the cost is borne not by the system, but by the 19-year-old māmā in emergency housing or the young pāpā trying to enrol in training while finding mahi to support his whānau. These are not acceptable trade-offs.
If we want to support those already working hard, let's invest in our hapū māmā and mātua taiohi – our future generations. The return on investment is not just economic, it's intergenerational. Oranga whānau, oranga mokopuna.
