What Matters to Mum - the hopeful fantasy

What If We’d Listened to the Kids and Built a System Worth Inheriting?

Let’s imagine, just for a moment, that somewhere between the press releases and photo ops, a government decided to govern.

Picture it - a room full of rangatahi stand up to talk about the Budget. But instead of polite applause and patronising nods, something unexpected happens.

The Minister for Finance actually listens.

She doesn’t smile tightly and move on. She doesn’t look to her staffer for the cue card that says “youth engagement = tick.” No, she hears what the young man says about his mum and something long thought extinct in Parliament stirs - conscience.

And for once, the government stops treating "lived experience" like an optional garnish and makes it the main ingredient.

In this reality, budgets are drafted with communities, not just imposed on them. Treasury reports still come with graphs, but also with stories, quotes and photos of real people -  the solo mum in Porirua who got access to free dental care; the kaumātua in Kaikohe who now runs an intergenerational storytelling programme at his fully funded marae.

Health policy? Transformed. Instead of "doing more with less," we finally chose to do enough with enough. Community trusts don’t compete for grants, they co-design the system. Primary healthcare is centred around hauora and manaakitanga. The word "deficit" refers to nutrient intake, not budget shortfalls.

Meanwhile, in education, instead of stifling students with fear of debt, we opened the floodgates of access. Free trade training. Universal tertiary. Cultural competency training for every school board. The University of the South Pacific becomes a regional model, exporting both knowledge and equity.

In the climate space, we ditched performative neutrality and chose active regeneration. We stopped measuring carbon offset potential and started planting kai forests beside every kura. Philanthropic foundations, inspired by the long view, backed not just short-term outputs but intergenerational ecosystems of care.

The government’s KPIs shifted from “number of people served” to “number of people thriving.”

The Budget media briefing even began with a 19-year-old, the same one who once stood awkwardly in a hall and talked about his mum, now standing tall as a policy advisor. The Minister stepped aside. The cameras rolled and no one said a word about ROI.

🧾 Imaginary Government Statement (Alternate Timeline)

Ministry of Human Outcomes and Long-Term Governance
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Budget 2025 - Investing in the Lives Behind the Numbers

This Budget represents a new paradigm, one not driven by deficit obsession or GDP fetishism, but by the simple belief that people matter - all of them.

We no longer separate economic strategy from social wellbeing. Every dollar spent is assessed not just for efficiency, but for dignity delivered. We’ve funded community-rooted institutions, restored kaupapa Māori health infrastructure, and ensured every New Zealander, young or old, sees themselves in the future we’re building.

We acknowledge that real change takes decades and we’ve finally committed to being here for all of them.

Signed,
Min. Moana Rivers
Minister for Systems Change and Human Futures

📮 Letter to the Editor (from the same Mum, this time with support)

Title: “Someone Finally Asked”

To the Editor,

Last year, I was working nights and rationing my asthma inhalers.

Now, I’m helping run a local health co-op funded by the government and led by the people it serves. I still knit in the evenings, but it’s for my mokopuna, not for stress relief.

My son? He’s just finished his first term as a policy analyst. He talks about climate, equity and hope like they’re real, not buzzwords.

Someone finally asked what mattered to us. And they didn’t just nod - they did something about it.

Gratefully,
Moana Te Rina, Te Atatū South