In the latest in our Finances after 50 series, we talk to 60-year-old Mikaere Hina of Taranaki about work, stress and the gap between the Māori and Pākehā approaches to money.
I had three myocardial infarctions over one year. Bang, bang, bang. My first one was when I was working for Fonterra and I was actually chatting with the health and safety officer at the time! I collapsed in front of him, I just went whammo, like a falling Kauri tree. They were brilliant, they had a doctor on site.
I took time off, came back and had another one, and another one. I ended up in hospital for a little while, and the doctor gave me an ultimatum. He said, ‘if you have another one you might not leave the hospital’. It was burnout, really. So I had a big lifestyle change.
I’d been a professional chef and baker for what – 40 years? Since I was 15. As a chef, you can work 14 to16-hour days and when you're younger, you can do that. You get paid little and work a lot, but it’s rewarding. I got to work on cruise ships. I got to work in some of the fancy restaurants in Auckland and some quiet restaurants up north. And down here in Taranaki, I worked at the local Chartered Club which was nice. It was a wide spectrum of working environments, not like a corporate office.
I was brought up in a Pākehā culture. My biological father and my mum split when I was a really small baby. So she met this other gentleman, when I was about five and they got married, and I was brought up with his children, and then they had two others after that. So it was a mixed, blended family which, back then, was very unusual and interesting, but I didn't know any different.
When I was about 10 or 12, my parents bought this big boarding house in Palmerston North. This was back in the late 70s. That was an experience. They had maybe 40 or 50 boarders in this place. As a child, it was like, oh this is really cool. But I never saw the parents, really, because they were working 14 hours a day.
But there's a little bit of a silver lining in this. I ended up having a really good rapport with the chef. I just really loved the smell of his food. He was a Scottish chef and he’d make the old Scottish stews, lamb and beef, and he’d make his own pastry, apple pie, cakes. I’ve always loved food. So I basically stayed in the kitchen and was a bit nosy, and he got me into helping him with veggie prep after school. And I got hooked.
Mum asked me not to contact my biological father until she passed. So I respected that decision. I didn't like it, but I respected it. She passed away in 1990 and one of my sisters actually knew my biological father and introduced me to him. We built up a rapport, and I found out about my Māori side.
One thing I found out – and I was kind of shocked – is that Māori culture is not about the money. It sounds pigeon-holing or judgemental but, it’s never about the money. It’s about family and keeping the whānau together. With the other (Pākehā) side, it’s about your dog-eat-dog world. You’ve got to be better than everyone else and get up the ladder of success. When I found my Māori side, it was a totally different (attitude of) being together as a whānau, don't worry too much, we'll get there, we'll get it done.
I've come from two different worlds. I was in the army from 1983 to ’89, and one of the things it embedded in me was self-resilience. Focusing on a goal and planning, finding what obstacles there are going to be and how to get over those obstacles and move forward. I loved it. And after that I went to Massey University and got my Bachelor’s degree in Business. So I took those learnings and applied them to what I’d come to understand as the European side of me.
I was married. I’m divorced now. We had four daughters, and we took on a niece for a while, so it ended up being five. That was a lot, you know? When it came to buying a house, it was like, it’s just not going to happen. Children will eat. It can be a struggle and it can tear at relationships. And sometimes the best intentions are just not enough. We're still the best of friends, but we just couldn't do it together.
In my late 40s, I started to invest. I’d actually bought a couple of houses when I was living in Northland, but I sold those and I opened up an account with Sharesies. I really looked into it. You can pick ethical companies that might have ideologies with regards to, say, the environment, or clean water or things green, which I like. And I also invest in New Zealand companies. So yeah, so far so good. I watch the sharemarket closely. Some find it stressful but I find it quite soothing.
I did buy another house here in Stratford, a nice little unit. And then I ended up having to sell it. It was just after I’d had my heart attack. An investment advisor I knew up in Auckland said, ‘Look, just sell the property, rent a place and reinvest the money. It's going to be cheaper because you don't have to worry about rates, you don't have to worry about any of those other expenses’.
I tried to live off my investments for a little while, but I ended up having to go to WINZ and they stuck me on this Supported Living Allowance, where you can also have a job, or investments and savings and you're not really penalised that much. But, you know, my income went from, went from about $1800 a week when I was working, down to about $600 a week. I had to cut out everything I didn't need. I’ve always been very kind of frugal, I don’t like waste. My mum always told me, create a budget. Know what's coming in and what's going out.
A lot of people think they can’t wait until they retire. But you've got to have a plan. I've seen guys in my industry retire and drop dead six months later, because they didn't know what to do with themselves. The body is so used to working, it goes into shock. And I really don't want to die. No, I can't do that. So I ended up sitting down with a person from the hospital and setting up a calendar and a planner and some goals.
I like baking, so I just make things at home – bread, scones, muffins, just basic stuff. It keeps my mind going but I don’t end up like Gordon Ramsay. There’s a kohanga reo near me so sometimes if I bake something, I'll take it round there. Or I'll bake scones or some takakau, which is unleavened bread, and take it to the te reo class that I’m doing at my local polytechnic.
I said to one of my daughters, life is supposed to be hard sometimes. That's what I was taught. Life is hard. It develops you, it builds you up, so that when the next disaster comes along, you're able to cope with it.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
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