Māori poverty pays very well if you run the trust
If you’re on X, you may have seen a report by independent journalist Nick Shirley into Somali-run daycare centres in Minneapolis. According to the investigation, these centres received staggering sums of public money despite reportedly having no enrolled children. The 42-minute video has racked up around 84 million views on x since it was posted on 26 December. That does not happen by accident. It happens because people recognise a scandal when they see one.
Elon Musk responded with a blunt assessment. He argued that fraudulent government programmes have been used for years to import and retain immigrant voting blocs, hollowing out democracy and turning countries into de facto one-party states. He pointed to Minnesota, once home to virtually no Somalis, now electing Ilhan Omar, and warned that the same dynamics are playing out across Europe, the UK, Canada, Australia and, crucially, New Zealand.
That last country should make us uncomfortable, because it hits close to home.
In New Zealand, we have developed our own version of this problem. Not with daycare centres in Minneapolis, but with a cottage industry of taxpayer-funded “charities” and “trusts” that seem permanently flush with cash and chronically short on measurable outcomes. When organisations like Waipareira Trust can collect hundreds of millions of dollars in public funding while delivering results that are, at best, opaque, Musk’s warning starts to look less like hyperbole and more like a red flag.
This is not an attack on Māori, Pasifika or anyone else as a people. It is a critique of a system that rewards the right branding, the right buzzwords and the right political alignment, while punishing scrutiny. In practice, if you register a charity, promise transformational outcomes, document a few photogenic community initiatives and tick the right cultural boxes, the funding spigot opens. What begins as a genuine effort can quickly morph into something else once the money becomes effectively unlimited.
Take the numbers. According to Waipareira Trust’s own annual reporting, 13.3 full-time equivalent senior managers earned an average of around $510,000 a year. Half a million dollars each. For an organisation whose stated mission is to uplift Māori communities, that figure is not just eye-watering, it is obscene. If you are serious about reducing inequality, you do not do it by creating a new elite paid for by the very taxpayers you claim to be helping.
Yes, Waipareira Trust has since had its charitable status stripped. Credit where it is due. But the real question is why it took so long. How many years of rubber-stamping, how many warnings ignored, how many audits waved through before someone finally said enough?
Waipareira is not alone. Too many organisations follow the same blueprint. Minimal frontline impact, maximum administrative bloat. Brand new Ford Rangers. Overseas “staff conferences” that look suspiciously like paid holidays. Executive salaries that would make a private sector CEO blush. All funded by public money, all justified in the name of helping the vulnerable.
My taxes and yours already support people in genuine hardship through the welfare system. That support is administered by Ministry of Social Development, an agency that at least operates under clear rules, public accountability and parliamentary oversight. If the government has hundreds of millions to throw around, maybe it should stop laundering that money through quasi-charitable entities that set their own pay packets and start putting it where transparency actually exists.
New Zealand needs to put these charities under a microscope. Not a friendly review, not another glossy report, but hard audits, clear benchmarks and real consequences. Because right now, too many people are laughing all the way to the bank, and the people they claim to represent are no better off.
If that does not worry you, it should…
