Debbie Munroe is one of those uncommon individuals who maintains composure in the face of pandemonium and who observes the person in the back of the room, locks eyes with them, and inquires about their needs.
She frequently has a line of clients waiting outside the door, but she always appears to have the patience to listen to everyone and the presence to remember their names.
People can visit Debbie if they require a television aerial. If they require a food parcel to get them through the week, they visit Debbie.
They will eventually be told to “go see Debbie” if they have nowhere to sleep and are traveling with their entire lives packed into a station wagon.
The ABC was quickly dispatched to her location, and once inside the drop-in centre she refers to as the “Waka of Caring,” it is clear why this particular sliding door on a strip shop is so well-known.
The traditional Mori canoe is called a waka. This makes it the ideal metaphor for Debbie: everyone in, everyone afloat.
In front of the drop-in centre, a woman is sleeping, and the word “Waka of Caring” is written on the wall.
The waka is located in South Auckland, a region of New Zealand where homelessness is a pervasive issue that has reached crisis proportions.
Debbie has been on the front lines for ten years, but it wasn’t until just over three years ago that she made the decision to relocate the waka from her home to this storefront.
The distinction between those who provide money and those who need aid might occasionally blur because it is a full-time volunteer endeavour.
Food, clothing, blankets, pots, cookware, books, tampons, and diapers are all freely available in the waka.
No questions asked, about 150 food parcels are distributed each day. Only a smile and a quick interaction are necessary for Debbie to be pleased that the recipient is ok.
