IN MY TIME AS New Zealand migrant and OFW (overseas Filipino worker), I’ve had nine-ish landlords. Only one of them have treated us with actual kindness, and I don’t include the immediate past landlord, represented by their property manager, who was quite decent to us, because first, the former was on their way to sell the property, and second, the property manager had a near death experience, which made him alter his priorities in all his dealings with fellow human beings.
But that’s getting ahead of the story.
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The first landlord was one of the worst, and that’s saying a lot because having lived in his flat more than a decade ago, time has not dulled our distaste living there. Threadbare carpets, occasional rodents, and the dubious distinction of our flat being called the “crack” (metamphetamine/shabu) house, it not having been repainted or made over for an unacceptable number of years, standing out particularly because we lived in a high middle-income neighborhood.
Because we were “off the boat,” or had been in New Zealand less than a year, we naively co-signed the lease with fellow newbies and accepted everything the landlord dictated, paying high rents (for the quality of accommodation) and ready to live in one of the shabbiest houses in Aotearoa, though we neither knew nor cared at the time. We were just happy to live and work out of our very first address in the Land of The Long White Cloud. This vulnerability was exactly what the landlord was counting on, and that wasn’t even the worst of it: he was intimately aware of our circumstances, because he was one of our own.
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Things had a way of taking care of themselves, as tenants we traversed quite a steep learning curve, and we learned the few basic rules of flatting: go as far as you can without crossing the red line of the landlord or manager, get a flatmate or housemate/s to lessen the financial load, and leave the flat as clean and as serviceable as you left it.
By the time we found our second flat, we made sure it fit our requirements. Not too cold in the winter and not too muggy in the summer, a couple of flatmates to help spread the rent, and walls thick enough to muffle our karaoke sessions almost every weekend.
To be fair, it’s hard to compare this landlord with all the others as he was retired across the pond in Australia, and just let his katiwala (caretaker) sort out tenant problems and issues. the biggest things going for his row of flats was the nearness to every amenity and the spaciousness of his apartments. Then til very recently, it was a landlord’s market, meaning you were free to up and go if you didn’t like the place, no questions asked, and a new tenant would take your place before you closed the gate behind you.
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A couple more anonymous owners who addressed issues only when you complained enough, mostly they didn’t care as, really, for every existing tenant, there were proably hundreds of replacements eager to move in, no matter the rent, if the location and house was barely decent. Some would even offer rents a year in advance, just to be chosen. I will never sympathize with the landlords, but really,when all the advantages of scarcity, demand and would-be tenants willing to bend over backwarads are present, human nature takes over. I hate the situation, but I understand it.
Taking the cake was a landlord who took a picture of us, pictures of every panel, wall and tile of his admittedly beaut residence, required us to use professional cleaners before we left his premises, and checked our flat every now and then just to see if we had extra occupants and violated the conditions of his lease. We were outraged, frustrated and exasperated, but thankfully the contract could be terminated with enough notice. We left short of six months, without looking back. (turned out that he never planned to rent out the house, and rented it as a temporary source of income. At least, that explained why he was so anal with the place, pardon the French )
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Our best landlord was a young builder and his wife, who treated us as his actual friends, came as soon as we had any issues, and never forgot to give us Christmas gifts and vouchers, he was just grateful he had normal tenants (must have had a bad experience with previous occupants). It didn’t hurt that he was a builder, and that we didn’t have pets, were non-smokers, and at the time had no kids.
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In truth most landlords are in the median between the best and worst landlords that we had. Lucky you if you have one of the nicer ones and malas mo na lang if you end up with an a**hole like we had.
I mention all this because for the first time in living memory, it’s a RENTER’S market in New Zealand, a phenomenon driven by low migration numbers, housing stock surplus, and people running to Australia before the New Zealand recession gets worse.
Only 24 to 36 months ago, Landlords could choose the best of the best from among a hundred applicants for their tiny rundown flat. Today, renters can expect a ready-to-move-in flat available on the first or second viewing. The situation has completely reversed.
This isn’t to say that it won’t go back to the bad old days, when landlords will again have all the say and the tenants powerless.
But to all tenants, including this kabayan: your time is now. Kung hindi tayo, sino pa? Kundi ngayon, kailan pa?
Thanks for reading!
