02/02/2026
Meet Nara Latu, one of our Service Managers who looks after four homes. She joined us in 2021, bringing the kind of aroha that stays with people.
Being a leader in the disability sector means coming up against moments that change your sense of what matters.
This is the one Nara remembers most.
A 50th birthday.
The home was ready. Colourful decorations. Kai prepared. Invitations sent.
Then she saw him, the birthday boy, standing at the window.
“He kept staring at the gate. Then I saw tears running down his face. He knew his family wasn’t coming.”
It’s a moment she still carries every day. Not because they didn’t try their damned hardest to still give him the party he deserved, but because of what it revealed: the quiet grief some of the people we support live with, and a loneliness that doesn’t always get named.
“Some of our people don’t have anyone to hug them when they’re scared or tell them they’re loved. We are the only family that they have.”
Since that day, Nara has pushed for homes that feel like home. Not just warm and clean, but personal. She tells her team: “If you wouldn’t want to sit on the couch or sleep in the bed, we’ve still got work to do.”
Culture is part of that feeling. Not as decoration. As belonging.
She remembers one Pasifika Christmas Party when she taught two groups of staff to learn and perform cultural dances, one Samoan and one Tongan. They learned the steps, the words and their meaning. Costumes were handmade. And when they got up there, proud and a bit nervous, something shifted. The people we support weren’t just watching a performance. They were seeing themselves reflected in the faces of the people who show up for them every day.
That’s what Nara hopes for.
That if someone is ever left waiting at the window, looking for someone who doesn’t come, they’ll still have somewhere to turn.
They’ll turn back and know they’re home.
