Local government in Aotearoa has been shaping our towns and cities since the 1800s. Councils are the backbone of our communities, making rules and decisions that affect almost every aspect of daily life – from where housing gets built, to how clean our water is, to whether the library down the road keeps its doors open.
Unlike Auckland’s local boards, which make neighbourhood-level decisions, councils govern the whole city, district, or region. They set budgets, strategies, and bylaws that flow down into the services whānau use every day.
We spoke with Tamatha Paul, former Wellington City councillor, about why Māori voices at the council table matter now more than ever.
In the election I stood in, there were more people called John on councils across the country than there were councillors under the age of 30.
What councils do
Councils manage the services and infrastructure we often take for granted. They look after roads and footpaths, rubbish collection, clean water and waste systems. They plan where housing, businesses, and green spaces can go. They provide facilities like pools, parks, and libraries, and they prepare for emergencies and climate impacts.
There are two types of councils. City and district councils cover towns and cities, focusing on local services. Regional councils oversee bigger areas, dealing with environmental management, public transport networks, and large-scale infrastructure. Every council is led by a mayor and elected councillors who sit around the council table.
Young voices at the table
In 2019, Tamatha was elected to Wellington City Council at just 22 years old – one of the youngest councillors in the country. She stood because she could see her generation was missing from decision-making.
“In the election I stood in, there were more people called John on councils across the country than there were councillors under the age of 30. That ain’t right and it ain’t reflective of the communities we live in.”
Her goal was to challenge the mindset of “we’ve always done it this way” – an approach that hasn’t served people or the planet well.
Some people might look at councils today and think ‘what’s the problem? There are Māori around the table now,’ which ignores the 100+ years we weren’t even allowed in the building, let alone a seat at the table!
Why Māori voices matter
For Tamatha, the history is clear.
“Some people might look at councils today and think ‘what’s the problem? There are Māori around the table now,’ which ignores the 100+ years we weren’t even allowed in the building, let alone a seat at the table!”
Recent progress has come through the introduction of Māori wards, which guarantee Māori representation. But under current law, Māori wards are the only ones that can be overturned by a public poll. No other wards face that scrutiny. This rule singles Māori out and risks undermining fair representation.
Tamatha is proud that Wellington City Council has both Māori wards and mana whenua representatives from Ngāti Toa and Taranaki Whānui on every committee, with full voting rights and the same pay as councillors.
“That’s real partnership in action.”
She also championed making Wellington a bilingual city, restoring Māori place names, and educating the public about the rangatira who founded Te Whanganui a Tara.
“I can’t wait to tell my tamariki one day about these achievements and about this whakapapa.”
In my view, there is no one better who knows the long history, whakapapa, whenua and taiao of a given place than those who have inhabited that land since before settlers came ashore.
Why it matters to whānau
The work of councils shapes everyday life. It affects how much rent or rates we pay, whether the water from our taps is safe, if the street lights work, and whether we can access housing, libraries, or pools.
“We gotta vote cos otherwise you have a whole bunch of old randoms making decisions in their own self-interest,” Tamatha says.
Yet Māori remain underrepresented in these spaces, even when predominantly Māori communities are most affected by council decisions. Some councils have introduced Māori wards to ensure our voices are heard – but these are the only wards that can be overturned by a public poll, singling Māori out in a way no other group is.
For Tamatha, representation is about whakapapa and tino rangatiratanga:
“In my view, there is no one better who knows the long history, whakapapa, whenua and taiao of a given place than those who have inhabited that land since before settlers came ashore. On a big level, it means that we can begin honouring Te Tiriti o Waitangi and the hopes of our ancestors for true partnership and collaboration, as well as the pursuit and realisation of tino rangatiratanga.”
Māori wards are one tool to get us there – but the bigger picture is simple. If our councils looked more like us, decisions would be fairer, smarter, and more connected to our communities. It starts with us: voting, submitting, and standing, so Māori voices are always heard at the table.
