Eden Fusitu’a went from being a hesitant voter to hosting “Elections with Eden” for Te Karere, to encourage rangatahi to vote. (Photo supplied)
At the last election in 2023, voters could turn up to the voting booth at any time during the advance voting period and enrol at the same time, including on election day. Now the coalition government is proposing to scrap same-day enrolment and require voters to be enrolled 13 days before the election.
Here, Eden Fusitu‘a explains why that move is likely to silence voices like hers.
I still remember my first time voting. It was 2014, I was 19, and politics felt like this faraway, complicated world that didn’t have space for me. I didn’t know about enrolment deadlines or how the process worked. Honestly, if same-day enrolment hadn’t existed back then, I wouldn’t have voted. My voice would have been missing from that election.
But I was lucky. I was living with Rukumoana Schaafhausen. She’s one of those wāhine toa who knows how to get things done and makes you believe your voice matters. “Come on, let’s go vote,” she told me. No overthinking, no months of prep. Just a firm push in the right direction.
So off we went, me with my nearly two-year-old nephew Emanuera, dragging his little red barrel, bundled up in his dressing gown and beanie. We were living in Māngere Bridge at the time, and the voting station was set up at the church near the cemetery.
“I voted because someone believed my voice was worth hearing, and the system made it possible for me to show up at the last minute and still have a say.” Eden Fusitu‘a, a first-time voter on election day 2014, with nephew Emanuera. (Photo supplied)
I can still remember the walk. Partly because Emanuera puttered out halfway through and I had to carry him and his barrel the rest of the way, but also because Ruku was taking photos and making it feel like it was a big deal, even though I didn’t fully understand the weight of it at the time.
I filled out the form, cast my vote, and walked away knowing my voice counted. It felt good. I texted my mum to tell her, feeling proud. And that was all because I could enrol and vote on the same day. If that system hadn’t been in place, I wouldn’t have voted.
It’s as simple as that. And I wasn’t the only one. For so many Māori, Pacific peoples, and rangatahi, same-day enrolment isn’t just convenient — it’s a lifeline. Life is busy. People move flats. Some of us don’t even think about voting until someone like Ruku says, “Come on, let’s go.”
Looking back now, those photos of me and Emanuera walking to vote mean so much more. They remind me that I didn’t just vote that day for the sake of it. I voted because someone believed my voice was worth hearing, and the system made it possible for me to show up at the last minute and still have a say.
Fast forward a few years, and I’d gone from that hesitant first-time voter to standing in front of a camera, encouraging others to do the same. In 2017, I was an intern at Te Karere, where I led a social media segment called Elections with Eden. I was calling on rangatahi to vote — the very same rangatahi who, like me in 2014, might not have enrolled early but would turn up on the day if they had the chance.
That’s why the government’s proposal to scrap same-day enrolment makes me so hōhā. It’s not just a technical change. It’s another hurdle. Another barrier. And it will hurt the very communities that already face the most hurdles when it comes to being heard.
“In the 2023 general election, 48 percent of Māori voters aged 18–19 enrolled during the voting period. Those votes would be gone under this law. For me, that’s personal.”
In the 2023 general election, 48 percent of Māori voters aged 18–19 enrolled during the voting period. Those votes — voices like mine — would be gone under this law. For me, that’s personal.
Christopher Luxon’s comments about this change during the debate felt dismissive. The way he said: “Well, people can just enrol early — if Australia can do it, why can’t we?” His tone, his body language. Like he couldn’t care less about the realities of our lives.
The reality is that most of us can’t even remember to take the meat out of the freezer some days, let alone make sure we’re enrolled weeks ahead of time. And I know I’m not alone. Rangatahi Māori juggle so much. Mahi, tamariki, whānau, study. Life isn’t neat, and neither are our timelines. That doesn’t make our voices less important.
Removing same-day enrolment won’t magically make us “better prepared voters”. It will just stop us from voting.
For me, voting isn’t just a civic duty. It’s personal. It’s about having a say in decisions that affect my whānau, my culture, and my future. And I know how easy it is to miss out when life gets in the way.
That’s why I’m proud that my first vote happened the way it did — casual, last-minute, but still powerful. I want every young Māori to have that same chance. I want them to know their voice matters, even if they only decide on the day to stand up and be counted.
Same-day enrolment isn’t a flaw in our democracy. It’s one of the few things that works for us — for Māori, Pacific peoples, rangatahi, and anyone who has ever felt like the political system wasn’t built for them.
The government’s voting changes will silence voices. It will make voting harder for the people who already feel like they’re on the outside. Why put up another barrier to something that’s working?
I want rangatahi Māori to know their voice matters, and that showing up, even at the last minute, is powerful. It can shape our future.
Same-day enrolment isn’t just about convenience — it’s about removing unnecessary hurdles so all of us can take part in the decisions that affect us. I’m living proof of why it matters.
Eden Fusitu’a is a journalist and communications professional with whakapapa to Ngāpuhi, Te Arawa, and Tainui. After years abroad supporting her husband David’s rugby league career and raising their tamariki, she returned home to reconnect with te ao Māori. She now works in Māori public health, using storytelling to uplift kaupapa Māori.
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The change of address process on-line is broken. I have been sent a new on-line form via email, late, too late! Paul Goldsmith can bark at us through the TV as much as he likes, but we, each and every one of us, has the legal right to vote. In 56 years I have never been treated with such contempt as I have been by VoteNZ.
Worth noting that this change in the rules will affect working-class Pākehā as well, and for many of the same reasons!
Tautoko that Ross – definitely not just Māori who’ll be affected. I just wrote from my own experience, but there’s plenty more kōrero out there.
Would love to read yours if you ever write it! 🙂
Hi Eden, thank you for replying! I’m a Pākehā New Zealander who has lived in the UK for many years. In terms of experience: when I first arrived in the UK, I saw all the same dreadful headlines that I was used to seeing about Māori and Pasifika. Except, of course, that it wasn’t about Māori and Pasifika; and it wasn’t exactly about racism either, given that Scotland is fairly mono-ethnic and people of colour are not, e.g., over-represented in the prison system. But it really was about the poor. In England, to quote an example, whites from rougher backgrounds are sometimes referred to as “chavs”. It’s reputedly an acronym for “‘Council House And Violent”.
This led to me rethinking a lot of what I had thought up to that stage about New Zealand and the situation of Māori, in particular. Now, while the *causes* for Māori being poor(er) are very different than what applies in the UK, the *consequences* are often the same.
So, I have wondered about the difference(s) for poorer Pākehā, compared with poorer Māori, for some time. I’m not sure we know enough about this, though as someone on this site very helpfully pointed out to me, “If we get it right for Māori, we’ll get it right for everyone”. If anyone here can shed any more light?
Hi Ross,
As someone with a mixed heritage, raised on a marae and later living with a European aunt, I recognise the value inherent in both cultures. I deeply appreciate the concepts of manaakitanga and whanaungatanga in Maoridom. I am disheartened by the treatment of Māori by many New Zealanders and in return the internal conflicts arising from tribalism and the language used in debates by both parties. I feel that some Maori have lost sight of what was valued by our tupuna. At the iwi, hapū, and whānau levels, actions were typically taken for the collective good rather than individual gain; land was commonly owned collectively, in contrast to the European model of individual ownership. The concept of mana is vital for one’s wellbeing.
Regrettably, the promises outlined in the Te Tiriti partnership have not been fully honoured. Had they been, I believe our prison and health and wellbeing statistics would look quite different today. I completely agree that what benefits Māori ultimately benefits all New Zealanders. While society is evolving, there will always be those who prioritise their own interests over the collective.
Māori are fundamentally kaitiaki (guardians) of the land and its resources, and we aim to protect these for all New Zealanders, not just Māori. Fear, often fueled by the media and influential figures, stifles progress. Māori have had to contend with the ongoing repercussions of confiscation; only about 1% of the true value that was taken has been repaid. Yet, many New Zealanders feel entitled to dictate how Māori should manage that small fraction.
Times are changing, and so is our entrepreneurial spirit. The identity of New Zealanders is intricately linked to Māori culture, which sets us apart from other nations. Unfortunately, those with racist viewpoints often overlook this connection and engage in debates over terminology, such as “Aotearoa,” on our passports.
This government has squandered millions attempting to erase the history and rights that have been hard-fought for, which will result in more New Zealanders being made homeless.
I hope this provides you with a different perspective on the current situation and its underlying reasons. In essence, a lack of respect breeds conflict. While we must strive for a future grounded in equity and equality, it is crucial to acknowledge cultural diversity and uphold the laws established to achieve this through the Tiriti, our nation’s foundational document.