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What to watch on Welly’s local streaming service This week, I’m covering one half of Aotearoa’s fourth most popular folk-comedy duo—Jemaine Clement of Flight of the Conchords. From indie rom-com, to downright absurdity, to Men in Black 3, this national treasure has a varied and pretty weird filmography. Most of his greatest hits are streaming on Aro, so have a read of my picks and then go get watching at ondemand.arovideo.co.nz! An Evening With Beverly Luff Linn (2018) — $5 dir. Jim Hosking, UK“i was attracted to 1980s-esq long haired jemaine clement throughout this entire film and im not ashamed” — maveky, Letterboxd This movie is strange… which you’ll find is a recurring theme in these picks. An Evening With Beverly Luff Linn is so tonally off putting that you can’t not keep watching it. Aubry Plaza is the dissatisfied wife of a deadbeat local coffee chain manager and desperate to meet Beverly Luff Linn. Craig Robinson is Beverly Luff Linn, enigmatic celebrity personality who speaks only in low gruntish-hums and is in a platonic-living-arrangement-relationship-thing with his manager Rodney Von Donkensteiger. And Jemaine, of course, is some sort of hired criminal that develops a Stockholm-like adoration for Plaza. Just your typical love triangle (or hexagon… I’m unsure really). I was pretty dumbfounded watching this. It's just wholly unlike anything I’ve ever seen. 100% recommend. You may not understand it, but it’ll be an enjoyable ride. Jemaine looks great. People Places Things (2014) — $5 dir. Jim Strouse, USA “jemaine is so hot that this movie should technically be classified as erotica” — kanye, Letterboxd This is the least strange of the bunch, but with an equal measure of indie-charm. Here, Jemaine plays a recently-divorced comic artist, university lecturer, and father to two daughters. We watch (a little helplessly) as he figures out how to get them to school on time, withstand an awkward set-up with a student’s mum, and avoid trauma dumping on his unassuming undergrads. His Kiwi accent (which I’ve yet to see him drop for a role) and classic Kiwi Dad demeanor makes for an odd fit in the New York setting, enhancing his character’s aura of general waywardness. The movie’s aesthetic is pretty clearly influenced by 500 Days of Summer, in its illustrated cut-aways and heavy indie-twee-ness, but does enough of its own thing to avoid allegations of blatant rip-off. As a child of divorce with one sister and a certified Kiwi Dad, this hits pretty well for me. Just be aware going in… the female characters are not written well. This is a movie about a semi-depressed artsy Kiwi bloke. Set your expectations accordingly, and you'll have a great time. Again, Jemaine looks great. Eagle vs Shark (2007) — $5 dir. Taika Waititi, NZ “my biggest character flaw is that i would still date jemaine clement in this movie” — vakemeupinside, Letterboxd Ever wanted to see an eagle and a shark get freaky? Yes, the costumes stay on. This is some really heartfelt indie cinema. The name-sake animal costumes are perfect, the dinosaur-themed local cinema is perfect, the failed ugly sweatsuit business is perfect. Set partially in central Wellington, this is somewhat relevant to the Salient reader. I'll bet none of you (myself included) are old enough to feel personally nostalgic for early-2000s Cuba Mall, but it's still pretty cool to look back at. Jemaine’s characters always skew a little (if not a lot) awkward, but this one takes the cake. I felt a real neurodivergent kinship with his poor, insufferable Jarrod (though I’m proud to say I treat women significantly better). You don’t need to know the whole plot, just know this—its about family and grief and unearned, irrational love. Mostly, it's just really funny, well acted, and nice to look act. Despite his terribly unlikable character, Jemaine, of course, still looks great. HONOURABLE MENTIONS Nude Tuesday (2022) — $5 dir. Armagan Ballantyne, NZ“new kink(s) unlocked from jemaine clement playing a naked simlish-speaking sex-guru cult-leader” — parislh43, Letterboxd Ok so I didn’t have time to watch this (it truly does feel like Week 12 is wringing me by the neck) but this comes very highly recommended by all my film-buff friends. That Letterboxd comment sums up the plot; nudity, rural New Zealand, and a wholly fictitious language. All I’ll add is this: confirmed full frontal… take that as warning or encouragement. What We Do in the Shadows (2014) — $5 dir. Jemaine Clement and Taika Waititi, NZ “as a New Zealander who knows full well we were the first country to give women the vote, this movie is what makes me most proud of our great nation” — caityperrie, Letterboxd You’re reading this, so you’re in Aotearoa, so you probably know about peak NZ comedy What We Do in the Shadows. Jemaine co-wrote and directed this film, and of course looks great starring in it… a vampire heart-throb truly never dies. You can find it on Aro when you're due for your next comfort re-watch.

A feed for fuck-all Lemongrass Kitchen What: Vietnamese Price: $11.00 - $15.00 When: 11:00 - 21:00; Monday - Sunday Nothing mindblowing, but wins by the size and value of their menu. ⭐⭐⭐ There’s something doggedly endearing about Capital Markets that calls me back. It’s beyond the fact that it’s a gold mine for plates of food at reasonable prices. The bare concrete floor and the restaurants built inside old shipping containers give the space a liminal but functional feel; it’s got a job to do and will fulfill that without artifice or frills. It echoes, to me, the mood of an old time road inn, where windswept and weary travellers can come in to sit and be warmed by a bowl of food, without playing the games of social convention or structured dining. Sure, it’s not the most inspiring place: grey and shadowy, with tiny TV screens on the back wall playing infomercials and shitty puns on loop. But it’s not meant to be inspiring, it’s meant to be dry and out of the wind. It’s dignified and noble, the tables kept clean and the food served on beautiful dinnerware by chefs who continue to work, even as the shopfronts around them remain permanently ‘for lease’. Besides, the scents from each kitchen that mingle into a soft, pan-Asian miasma smell inspiring enough. Today, I followed my nose to Lemongrass Kitchen, immediately on the right as you enter Capital Market. Their menu covers more of the storefront, offering a range of Vietnamese fare such as Goi Cuon, Cha Gio, Pho, Banh Mi, and rice noodle salads. Following the success of the soup at KC Cafe last week, and in need of some revitalisation, I chose their Rare & Cooked Beef Noodle Soup for $14. The lady behind the counter, working on her own, had her hands full with a steady stream of orders and gave me a buzzer instead of offering to bring my meal out to me. I’m just glad business is keeping up enough to warrant a stack of buzzers and customer self-service. Besides, it’s fun to take a cafeteria tray back to your table and compare meals with your friends, “What did you get? What did you get?” My soup, as I set it down, is a bit grey, with a pale slice of lemon on top trying its best to add some zest to the picture. It is a reasonable portion, however, and they haven’t skimped on the slices of beef or spring onion. This all on a base of great rice noodles; they were chewy and thick enough to hold lots of broth on their way up to your mouth. The broth itself was heavy on the spring onion, not very rich but meaty, salty, and with a bright hint of lemon. The cooked beef was a little overcooked so it was often the last thing in a mouthful that you were left chewing, but it also brought lots of juice with it in each bite. The rare beef was something else. Pieces were sinewy or still attached to lumps of cartilage. It tasted… peculiar, with a meaty, musky leather flavour and an aroma of molasses and shoe polish. It added depth to the broth and, when eaten in the same bite as pieces of cooked beef, it gave a more rounded taste that reminds one that he’s chewing on a sliced hunk of animal. It’s a taste to get used to, but I respect the honesty of this flavour profile; it’s unrefined and pragmatic. It feels a step closer to true ‘street’ food that sees no reason to not use rough-cut but fine to eat bits of meat. That said, those less carnivorously-inclined might be better off with the cooked beef soup as a safer option. Not to say that this soup with rare beef was that much more exciting. Besides an interesting gameyness, it was a bit plain and lukewarm, without any real kick and not as filling as I was expecting. Luckily, Lemongrass Kitchen offers a wide range of dishes at $15 or less. There are six other soups, including a Seafood Noodle and a Roast Duck with Bamboo, grilled or braised meats with rice and salad, pork dumplings, fish cakes and hefty-looking spring rolls. This kitchen wasn’t mind-blowing in taste, but the range and prices of their menu means they’re a very reasonable option for any student wanting a decent dinner. Am I talking shit? Do you wildly disagree, or want to feed my ego by telling me I’m so right? Or have I overlooked a place so far that readers really need to know about? Send me something to chew on at: guy@salient.org.nz.

Saad Aamir Fees Free was a policy that covered the first year of tertiary study, providing up to $12,000 in tuition payments per student at a cost of roughly $350 million a year to the taxpayer. It was presented as a policy that would improve equity and open the doors of higher learning for disadvantaged people. In 2024, the National-led coalition shifted the policy from the first year of study to the last. Then, on 8 May 2026, Winston Peters and Nicola Willis announced that the scheme would be scrapped entirely in the 2026 Budget. The disestablishment of Fees Free has drawn scathing backlash from student associations like VUWSA, advocacy groups, and many students. This sentiment is unjustified. Fees Free failed to provide an adequate incentive for students to attend university and ultimately functioned as a wealth transfer from the poor to the rich. That $350 million a year would have been far better spent elsewhere: for students, and for Aotearoa at large. Fees Free, Same Enrolments The rationale behind Fees Free was rather simple: by removing the cost of a year of tuition, the government hoped to encourage more young New Zealanders—particularly those from lower-income backgrounds—to enrol in tertiary study. The reasoning went that fees were a barrier, and if you removed the barrier more New Zealanders would attend university. The fact of the matter is that this policy never led to more enrolments. It failed to increase access to tertiary study for poorer New Zealanders. This is not merely opinion; it is backed by credible data analysis from a variety of sources. The AUT Policy Research Institute Study from May 2026 and the Ministry of Education Supplementary Analysis Report from January 2025 found that Fees Free did not cause increased enrolments. If the facts have not convinced you, the underlying logic should. New Zealand's student loan scheme is, quite frankly, among the fairest in the world. It covers tuition upfront, charges no interest if you stay in the country, and only requires repayments once you are earning above a set income threshold. No student is ever asked to pay out of pocket. No graduate is ever asked to pay before they can afford to. And the rewards for taking up this offer are substantial. The government already subsidises roughly two-thirds of the cost of tertiary study, and on average graduates earn over a million dollars more over their lifetime than those without a degree. So let us be clear about what Fees Free was actually doing. The incentive it claimed to create already existed. The barrier it claimed to remove was never there. It never opened any doors that were not already open. At this point, you may be bristling. Many students do genuinely struggle to make ends meet. But that struggle is not caused by tuition fees. It is caused by living costs: rent, groceries, power, transport. Fees Free did nothing to address any of that. It solved a problem that did not exist while leaving the real one untouched. Money for those who needed it least The AUT study identifies that it is because of brutal living costs and deep inequalities in school achievement and family resources that the people who make it to university are, on average, more privileged than those who do not. That is unfortunate. It is unfair. But it is reality. And it is fundamentally why Fees Free was a wealth transfer from the poor to the rich. Fees Free was a universal policy, available to every eligible student regardless of household income. That matters, because lower-income New Zealanders pay tax too. That tax contributes to a public pool that funded a programme whose benefits flowed disproportionately upward: to the tuition of students who can afford the rent on Kelburn flats, and away from those who could not. Fees Free was an untargeted, inequitable policy. It took from the poor and gave to the rich. What is the alternative? It has been disheartening to watch advocacy groups and students lobby so aggressively to reinstate Fees Free. Student associations, student magazines, advocacy groups, and each of us individually wield real political power. This article is not meant to discourage student activism. The opposite, in fact. It is meant to ask that we be careful with how we spend our resources: our time, our political capital, the space we take up on social media. Those resources would be far better spent advocating for policies that actually help the most marginalised and vulnerable. Increase student allowances. Push for paid placements. Fight for affordable student housing. These are the things that would make a real difference to the students who are worst off. And even if none of that moves you, scrapping Fees Free is still the right call. $350 million a year is a lot of money. Spent on health, education, or social security, it goes to the people and services that need it most. Spent on Fees Free, it ends up in the pockets of students who do not need it, including students like me. If we care about the vulnerable as much as we care about ourselves, we cannot in good conscience keep arguing that Fees Free ought to be reinstated.

Dear dating diary, The past two weekends have potentially been some of the most romantically confusing and stressful I have ever experienced. For the first time since being single, I have been seeing multiple people at once. I know this is no big deal considering I am not exclusive with anyone. However, the stress ensues when your circles begin to cross. Two weekends ago, some friends and I decide to go to a gig. Our friend is hosting pre’s so we head there and to my shock (and horror) Finance Bro (a guy I slept with from a previous issue) and Main Bro (the guy I am currently mainly seeing) are in the same room. It’s an incredibly awkward situation but I feel as though I play it off well. I chat to both parties without being overly flirty before Finance Bro leaves early to get to the gig. I go to the gig with Main Bro a little later and end up having a fabulous time! I turn around and give him a quick smooch, only to look to my right and see Finance Bro staring at us making out. Not the most tasteful move by me… I end up leaving with Main Bro to another club only to bump into a third suitor, a guy I had made out with at a party the evening before (hereafter known as Party Bro). We say a quick hello before continuing our journey. After a while Party Bro starts messaging me asking where I am and if he can come join. Considering I’m with Main Bro, the answer is most definitely no and I ignore the messages. Main Bro and I split for a little bit, and I finally open the messages from Party Bro, the final one saying he has gone home but asking me on a date the next day. Fuck it, why not! I say yes and we agree to go for coffee the following day. Main Bro and I link back up and I end up going back to his and staying the night. The next morning, I wake up and gap it out of there so I can go on this date with Party Bro, which goes well. I get home from the date with Party Bro and decide to check the message from Finance Bro I got on Friday. Turns out he had asked me out on a date, and I just had not seen it. I’m sorry Finance Bro, I did you dirty!!! Holy shit, stressful weekend. However, I am excited to not do it again right? RIGHT???? No. Next week, same shit crops up. It’s Friday night and Main Bro and Party Bro are both at the same event… FUCK!!!! Not only this, but I somehow end up flirting with a FOURTH guy and making out with him instead of Party Bro or Main Bro. I meet a cute fifth guy (!!!!) and his friend and we start chatting on Instagram that evening whilst we’re out. This is getting completely and utterly ridiculous. On top of this, that Saturday night I go to a party and Finance Bro (surprisingly) makes a return. We chat a little before I leave and he tells my friend he wishes he had gone home with me. That Sunday I lose it. I have the craziest hangxiety over the events of the two weekends and I frankly feel incredibly overwhelmed. Turns out the guy I was messaging on Instagram was not the cute fifth guy but actually his friend that I have absolutely no interest in. I’ve apparently made quite the impression as I have had to leave him on seen 3 different times for him to stop messaging me. Trust that I know leaving someone on seen is bad, but I was at quite a loss for what to do!!! The only solution in my eyes is to abstain from EVERYTHING!! I have gotten far too drunk these past few weekends, so it’s time to chill out and take a break from drinking. I have been seeing far too many people, yet I only actually care about one of them. Why am I wasting my time (and theirs) responding to their messages when I don’t have an interest in dating them. It’s time to abstain from dating and talking to men! I am not cut out to see more than one person at a time. I have not felt as horrible as I did that Sunday and it’s time for me to make a change for the better. Lesson: It’s okay to see multiple people at once casually, so long as you’re prepared to face the consequences of playing the field!

Connections Answers: First Connection Insult: Jerk, Chump, Sap, Stooge Second Connection Ways to interlace strands: Lace, Plait, Braid, Weave Third Connection Public open areas: Plaza, Square, Mall, Court Fourth Connection Last names famous actresses: Knightley, Robbie, Stone, Weaver

Dandifil after Toni Morrison I arrived to meet the ancestors at the edge of the world. I arrived breathless, dripping of sweat, snot and tears and my jaws clenched so hard my vision blurred. At least ko oti te ta’ua. They say my ancestors were the first surveyors of the ocean, some of the first to master and practice aerodynamics. Engari i luga i te maunga nei, They say I might be the first of this ancient agni, first of this ocean salt to be given flesh and bone. Koia anō, seki oti loa te ta’ua, I take a deep breath, hoping that if I breathed hard enough my jaw would relax and my head would hurt less. I bring my eyelids together tightly and in the nothingness, there is no noise, seai se logoa. I wish I could tell you a story full of joy and childhood dreams. I’m scared that once I start speaking though, I’d tell you a story of abandoned dreams and sacrifices. and I called the world to me - an expansion My people and I are masters of storytelling; blending humour, suspense and caution all together. This is the story of a powerful edge walker who claimed the ocean as theirs through birthright. I have been an edge walker all my life. I’ve walked to the edge of consciousness before. I have arrived at the edge of the world on the cliff of creation and have always found myself seconds away from the edge of destruction. Even at the edge of a knife, I have learnt to wield power, to walk into agni unscathed, to survive with mind and soul intact. I have always been an edge walker, but these days the wind gifts me stories from Hawaiki, lullabies that soothe weathered spirits. Gossip that is now ancient. I have always been an edge walker, but these days the ocean rises to greet me, promising healing, change and power. I have always been an edge walker, but these days I bow and mountains of ancestors bow back. Their joy is immense, their stories legendary. These legends, they say, are mine too, that I must carry them beneath my skin so that the world never forgets. At the edge of the waking world, the wind pulls me into an ancient agni. “We have all been edge walkers,” the wind whispers, stealing my breath and using it to fan new flames. Through this ancient agni we must pass – first at birth, then at death, and many more times in between. They draw me singing songs of wayfinding and somewhere someone whispers, as I arrive at the edge of reality, “it is merely your turn.”

Connections Answers: First Connection Leniency: Mercy, Grace, Pity, Clemency Second Connection Parliamentary procedure verbs: Table, Motion, Draft, Charge Third Connection Workshop tools/devices: Wrench, Clamp, Vice, Jack Fourth Connection Fabrics: Cotton, Linen, Wool, Silk

Connections Answers: First Connection Things in space: Comet, Meteor, Asteroid, Satellite Second Connection Spices: Clove, Nutmeg, Cinnamon, Paprika Third Connection Marks on Skin: Freckle, Dimple, Wrinkle, Scar Fourth Connection Surnames that are also occupations: Mason, Taylor, Baker, Carter

For years, researchers at Te Herenga Waka, wanting to study depression in rats, could dunk them in a tank of water and watch how long they struggled before giving up. The Porsolt Swim Test (PST)—also called the forced swim test—was a standard tool in preclinical drug research for decades. Now, the University has made its position explicit: it won't approve the procedure anymore. VUW’s Animal Ethics Committee updated its website to formally reflect what had already become practice in the lab, late last month releasing a statement “We recognise that scientific understanding evolves, and with it, the appropriateness of certain methodologies. Procedures that are no longer considered valid (such as the use of the Porsolt Swim Test for depression research) or relevant within the context of contemporary research will not be approved for use.” When I spoke with Adrian Bibby, Secretary of the Animal Ethics Committee at Te Herenga Waka, they told me that no application to use the test had been approved since 2018, and the last time it was actually carried out was 2017. Bibby explained this is because often both researchers and the committee remain committed to ensuring robust results that do not need unnecessary repetition, thus “Researchers often move away from outdated methodologies proactively, without the need for the Committee to formally ban specific tests.” Put simply, researchers move away from the PST far earlier than it needs to be banned. The reason for its obsoletion, according to Bibby, is that the test had become outdated and controversial within the scientific community. What happens to a rat forced to swim doesn't tell us nearly enough about what's happening in the brain of a person living with depression. Bibby informed me that both the University and the Animal Ethics Committee “remain committed to being open about how and why animals are used in research.” As such, the broad and diverse membership that make up the committee inform their opinions based on a range of sources such as “members’ expertise, guidance from the National Animal Ethics Advisory Committee, resources on alternatives to animal research, and emerging scientific knowledge.” Bibby makes a point to inform me that consideration for such tests are not tied to fixed review intervals but instead are considered based upon "Scientific validity and ethical acceptability.” When asked whether the Animal Ethics Committee is focused on reducing further animal testing within the University, Bibby stressed that “the term ‘animal testing’ is often used to refer specifically to regulatory toxicity testing, which the University does not undertake.” VUW requires all researchers to consider the 3R’s, “reduction—how the number of animals can be reduced to the minimum necessary; refinement—how methods can be refined to minimise impact and enhance animal welfare; replacement—how they can use alternatives wherever possible,” and as such Animal welfare is one of the highest concerns for the Animal Ethics Committee. However, in a statement, the Animal Ethics Committee did admit that “The Committee acknowledges that, despite significant advances in alternative methods, certain complex biological processes and integrated physiological responses currently cannot be adequately studied without the use of living animals (in vivo).” Approximately half of the University's animal research is conducted concurrently within conservation biology programmes. That means that the study of wild animals within their natural habitats is focused on non-invasive and non-harmful methods. Ultimately, VUW’s quiet shift away from the Porsolt Swim test reflects a broader change already underway in scientific research: a move towards methods that are more ethically sound and scientifically reliable. The evolving standards on the committee are ever-changing and we should look to them keenly as current scientific approaches change. This is a win for both the Scientific Community and for animal ethics as a whole.

A feed for fuck-all KC Cafe What: Cantonese Price: $7.00 - $16.00 When: 11:00am – 11:30pm, Sunday – Thursday, and till 1:30am on Friday and Saturday. One of Wellington’s best, even for those on a budget. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Of all of the iconic jewels studded in the grubby yet glittering tiara that is Courtenay Place, KC Cafe & Takeaway deserves top billing. Not as glittery as St. James or The Library, but it is bursting with charm and prowess. Nick Iles, of Two Bear Sandwich Club fame, writes a fierce ode to this place: its rich wood panelling and 60s-chic interior design, the glittering meats that hang in the kitchen window and the behemoth of a menu that wraps around the walls. And that’s before he gets to the food. KC Cafe is a beautiful place that never ever disappoints, and I will always stand against any presumptive, colonial insinuations that this restaurant, by its cuisine, is at all cheap or dismissable. So then, why is it featuring in your feed-for-fuck-all column, Guy? Right, yes. Thankfully, KC’s legendary status is not exclusionary. While most of the menu does look upwards from the $20 mark, there are a handful of excellent dishes for those with a bit less to dish out. For these we turn to the section ‘Soups/Starters/Congees’ (numbers 30. through 53. on the menu). Working our way backwards, the Fish Congee is the easiest to review: not very good on its own. This rice porridge would, I imagine, be a comfort food for many, but the kind that you have to grow up with to like. Unfamiliar, I found the congee to have an unpleasant texture: too watery to try and chew, but too lumpy to spoon like soup. I was surprised by the flavour of the light, salty broth and ginger, but the combination of white rice and white chunks of fish made for a big bowl of $10 plain. The same could not be more false to say about the Wu Xi Pork Ribs. Equally priced but infused with flavour, this starter is a thing of beauty. Dripping with a syrupy red braising, they’re almost caramelised but with a deeper, spiced umami. As you bring each piece to your mouth (with chopsticks or fingers; you’d be forgiven for using your hands to pick every last piece off) you can smell the orange oils and the ginger in the glaze that cut through what could otherwise become sickly and cloying. These tender, flaky ribs are like the refined older cousin of the sticky ribs from the gastropub down the way, but just as moreish. It’s not a big enough plate to call it a meal by any standard, but with a side of rice and some choy sum it could go a long way. Honestly, it’s good enough to order as a side regardless. What does suffice as a meal are the soups, which max out at $14. Everyone at the table let out a ‘woah!’ when my bowl was set down, a bowl I could wrap my arms around and cradle as the steam warmed my face. I picked the Roast Duck, Gai Choy, and Tofu soup, which was a whole meal for $12. The tofu was silky and soaked up lots of the savoury broth, as did the leafy parts of the gai choy, while the stalks remained crunchy and burst between my teeth. The thick-cut roast duck breast, sliced from one of the golden birds hanging on display, was tender and gamey. It was a little impractical to eat; I ended up pulling the meat off the little bones with my fingers in the end—so worth it. The seared skin went soggy in the soup, but still a deliciously salty fried addition. This is genuinely one of the best meal deals I’ve found so far, for its size, quality and nutrition. I could come back to this for days on end. KC Cafe’s menu is so extensive, there’s enough under budget to explore for another column. I, for one, won’t be complaining. I have so much love and respect for this institution; it’s no surprise the restaurant is coming up to its 30th birthday in a few years. If the menu is still daunting, check out Nick Iles’ articles at @twobearsandwich, as well as the icons at @kc_review who are eating their way through that phonebook of dishes and living my dream. Or head down with a random number generator, it’s very hard to go wrong. I’ll probably see you there! Am I talking shit? Do you wildly disagree, or want to feed my ego by telling me I’m so right? Or have I overlooked a place so far that readers really need to know about? Send me something to chew on at: guy@salient.org.nz.

Weekly Pacific Politics with Otis Whinney GOING BAND FOR BAND ON IMMIGRATION POLICY 26 votes to 22 have decided the fate of Solomon Islands’ Prime Minister Jerimiah Manele. The vote of no-confidence for his leadership finally took place on May 7, the third time the parliament of the Solomons had attempted to push him out in this manner. Former foreign minister Peter Shanel Agovaka—who crossed the bench to help take out Manele—threw out allegations that Manele was facilitating corruption among his ministers, while 1000 police patrolled the capital to prevent unrest that has previously broken out during other political events such as this. Manele didn’t step down quietly, directing comments to the leader of the opposition, Matthew Cooper Wale, arguing he should “be very careful of who you are dealing with and sitting next to.” Considering some of Manele’s own allies switched up on him to remove him from power, maybe the warning should not be taken lightly. Manele has done his best to balance his country's relationship with China and the West, so his ousting is significant. A diplomatic move to recognise the People's Republic of China over Taiwan in 2021 sparked enough unrest in the streets for Australia to deploy troops and police to the islands, and a 2022 security and defence pact between the Solomons and China raised many eyebrows among the usual suspects. Whether a move towards or away from China is on the cards, or whether the new leadership seeks to maintain the status quo, remains to be seen. A new vote for a replacement is due to take place before this article releases, so we cannot consider this whole debacle over just yet. Niue is also having some changes in government, but is doing it the normal way by having a general election. Incumbent Dalton Tagelagi managed to retain his position as Prime Minister, but the biggest shock came in the demographic changes. The Fono Ekepule (Niue Parliament) now holds 7 woman MPs out of the possible 20, boosting their representation to 35%. Moments like this are significant, as it shows a shift in how people are perceiving leadership in a region that is still untangling itself from generations of misogyny. We obviously still have a long way to go, and progress on this front will depend heavily on how these new MPs perform in their role, but thanks to these results, the opportunity is there for the taking. Unfortunately, our leadership in Aotearoa cannot change until November. But time is ticking on the coalition, and every party in government has already begun slinging mud to convince as many voters as possible that all our country’s problems are because of the other guys. One of the key issues right-wing parties across the globe have been bringing to the forefront is immigration. Donald Trump, Nigel Farage, Pauline Hanson; the world seems to be assembling the racist Justice League. New Zealand is no stranger to this; immigrants have been used as a political tool since Richard Seddon was bad-mouthing our Chinese community to win over racist miners in the late 19th century. We had irrational restrictions on immigrants from China in the 1880s, and of course the dawn raids under Robert Muldoon in the 1980s. In the modern day, we have Shane Jones calling Indian immigration a “butter chicken tsunami” while Brian Tamaki radicalises the people of Facebook. In short, this whole debate has been in our midst for a long time, and our good mate David Seymour claims he has the solution. David Seymour and the ACT party have officially released their new plan to solve New Zealand’s immigration crisis. It's a 6 point platform that includes making it easier to deport migrants who are serious offenders, stronger English language requirements, and a dedicated enforcement unit to deal with overstayers. Now, it's not ridiculous to claim that New Zealand needs to update its stance on immigration. Migrant exploitation and worker shortages in key sectors are just some of the things successive governments have been kicking down the road for the next lot to solve. But ACT’s platform, to me at least, seems more like a series of signals to a certain type of voter in the run up to an election. Seymour’s immigration stance has always been interesting. He has, at least recently, presented himself staunchly in favour of immigration and consistently claims that this country was founded by it. When defending these policies to Sean Plunkett on his openly far-right radio show, Seymour still refused to play along with Sean’s more radical outbursts, even saying that “we all, at some point in our family history, have a story of immigration, and in many ways New Zealand, being the last major landmass to be settled by humans, is the country of immigration.” A perfectly reasonable statement, in sharp contrast to Donald Trump claiming Haitians are eating people's dogs during a televised debate. Even as Sean threw out a daft reference to Shane Jones’s butter chicken comment, Seymour declined to engage in that kind of anti-Indian racism. A similar story played out as Seymour spoke to Duncan Garner, another far-right media personality who parrots those anti-immigration talking points. Even when speaking on a platform that gives him carte blanche to say whatever he wants about anyone, Seymour won’t budge. This is less surprising when you consider the ACT party’s frequent race-baiting over this term in Government towards Māori, pandering to the many who believe Te Tiriti is being abused in favour of Māori over others. Things like the Treaty Principles Bill and his constant references to apartheid pander to this demographic, draping the want to erode Te Tiriti’s legal power in assertions that all New Zealanders should be equal under the law. Seymour and ACT have always been about ‘cutting red tape,’ removing regulations and allowing the private sector to have more freedom in how they operate and make money, regardless of the consequences for things such as the environment, or the people who work in it. Te Tiriti has been a significant roadblock to this for some time. Seymour needs the right to vote for him, so these new immigration proposals seek to activate that crowd, but he’s got to toe a line, lest he break his own argument that all New Zealanders are equal. On the other hand, since when have politicians been consistent? Unfortunately, it seems like our right-wing parties are entering a sort of anti-immigration arms race to see who can demonise this group most effectively. After ACT released this platform, Winston Peters took to social media to argue it “doesn’t even touch the sides,” and that Seymour needs to “watch this space” for what a real man’s immigration policy looks like. Minister of Immigration, National’s Erica Stanford, has also been showcasing proposed changes to immigration laws, including making it much harder to appeal deportation on humanitarian grounds. The coalition is going band for band on immigration, and the escalating rhetoric will have ripple effects through not just the Pacific community in this country, but to the many other diasporas that call Aotearoa home. The endless rise of anti-Indian sentiment specifically in this country should worry us all, and as Pacific peoples we should be more aware than most about where this could end up taking us. South Asians have been disproportionately affected by racial abuse and hate crimes in the past few years, with Police hate crime data reporting 4,767 hate incidents involving South Asian victims in this country occurring between January 2022 and October 2025. All it takes is our politicians to continue to lean into this racism to gain support (as Seddon and Muldoon did before) for this to end up mirroring some of our most shameful moments in history. So let’s hope we can collectively see the forest for the trees when it’s time to tick those boxes in November.

VUWSA has decided to request $7000 from the VUWSA Trust to fund Re-O Week: a three-day, glorified party scheduled for the second week of Trimester Two. The request alone is concerning. Why would VUWSA consider a party to be a reasonable use of Trust money? Just weeks ago, students were left homeless after flooding damaged their flat. Across the University, demand for the community pantry has increased by 400% since 2024, as reported by Salient. It remains unclear whether VUWSA will have the funding to continue Stress-Free Study Week, at least in its current form. And, of course, VUWSA has spent its entire organizational life telling students, and just about anyone who will listen, that it is underfunded. Against this backdrop, requesting $7000 from the Trust for a party is irresponsible, confusing, and insulting. When criticised that the money could be better spent elsewhere, VUWSA President Aidan Donoghue told the Executive that “these aren’t mutually exclusive.” If VUWSA needed to dip into the Trust to fund the community pantry or Stress-Free Study Week, he said, he would consider it. But that argument falls apart under the slightest pressure. In theory, funding Re-O Week and funding student support are not mutually exclusive. In practice, they are. VUWSA is not dipping into the Trust to meet demand for student support—demand it already appears unable to meet. It is dipping into the Trust for Re-O Week. Then, in response to concerns about the allocation of funds, one Executive member, who I could not identify by voice, said what may be the most confusing line of the whole meeting: “We’re never going to be able to pay to fix poverty in Wellington, but this is something we can pay for.” What? No one is asking VUWSA to end poverty in Wellington. That is not the standard. But VUWSA could invest in the community pantry. It could support students affected by the floods. It could protect Stress-Free Study Week. It could use Trust money for something materially useful. Instead, the Executive appears to have looked at student hardship, shrugged, and decided a party was more achievable. This also raises a question: why is VUWSA pursuing Re-O Week at all, when there is no evidence students actually want it? So far, there has been no meaningful consultation about whether students support Re-O Week, or whether they think it is a good use of $7000. Donoghue indicated that consultation may happen later, after the Trust has approved the money. But that is not consultation—that is retrospectively asking students to bless a decision already made. The obvious defence is that students elected Donoghue, and Donoghue campaigned on Re-O Week. Therefore, the argument goes, the student body endorsed it. That logic has a number of flaws. First, it assumes VUWSA elections are meaningfully representative of the wider student population. At a university with more than 20,000 students, Donoghue received around 1,000 votes — and that figure includes the benefit of the STV roll-down. A small turnout should not give the Executive a blank cheque to spend Trust money without proper consultation. Second, it assumes students voted after carefully weighing each candidate’s policy platform. That is also doubtful. One of the criticisms of Donoghue’s campaign, raised on VuW: Meaningful Confessions, was that he gave cake to students in exchange for a vote. That does not exactly suggest a deeply informed democratic mandate for his presidency, let alone for taking thousands from the Trust to fund Re-O Week. This is what makes Re-O Week look like a vanity project. It appears less like a response to student need, and more like an attempt to fulfil Donoghue’s campaign promise for the sake of his own reputation. Because if students were not consulted, and no demand has been shown, who exactly is this for? All of the justification for Re-O Week seems retrospective. It appears the Executive started with the conclusion that Re-O Week should happen, then worked backwards to find reasons to support it. One example came from Education Officer Aría Lal, who argued that Re-O Week would be good for international students, many of whom arrive in Trimester Two and need opportunities to meet people. On its face, that sounds reasonable. But it does not hold up. From my experience working in the International Office, international students often do not attend O-Week events. So why assume they would attend Re-O Week? More importantly, Lal’s point overlooks the fact that international students already have dedicated Trimester Two events designed for exactly this purpose. The International Office runs International Welcome Night, alongside a full week of orientation events for incoming international students. I have never seen the VUWSA Executive at any of those events. If VUWSA genuinely wants to support international students, there are better ways to do it. It could partner with the International Office. It could show up to International Welcome Night. That would likely be more targeted, more useful, and far cheaper than $7000. That is what makes the justification feel so thin. International student connection is being invoked as a convenient argument for Re-O Week, rather than treated as a real issue requiring a thoughtful response. In that sense, a comparison to Trump’s ballroom is not as absurd as it may first sound. The scale is different, but the logic is the same: public or collective money is being used to fund a symbolic project for the benefit of the Executive, while the people it is supposed to serve are facing material hardship. The most shocking part is that the Re-O Week proposal passed at a VUWSA Executive meeting with only two members objecting: Welfare Vice President Aspen Jackman and Treasurer-Secretary Sanjukta Dey. That leaves nine Executive members, excluding Donoghue, who somehow decided this was a responsible use of Trust money. Perhaps Donoghue delivered the speech of his life—although, after reviewing an audio-recording of the meeting, I doubt that is the case. It seems more likely that nine people in the room accepted the proposal without giving it the scrutiny student money deserves. Either way, it is hardly a ringing endorsement of the Executive’s collective judgement. This decision also comes at a time when VUWSA is already under fire surrounding their transparency and democratic processes. Last month, Save Our Clubs exposed VUWSA’s plan to take over club administration. As previously reported by Salient, one of the major criticisms of VUWSA’s approach was its lack of proper consultation before advancing the proposal. Re-O Week follows the same dodgy pattern: a decision made at the top, justified without any student consultation, with students left to piece together what the hell just happened. And any consultation that does occur happens after the decision was already made. The lack of transparency is not helped by the fact that, while preparing this article, I tried to find relevant VUWSA meeting minutes. None of the meeting minutes for any of the 2026 Executive Meetings (of which they have had four to date) have been made available, despite students having the right to know this information. Taken together, the Re-O Week proposal reflects a troubling pattern: dress up a vanity project as student service, scramble for justification after the fact, and look past the hardship of the people you claim to represent. VUWSA should not be asking students to accept that Trust money is available for a party, but only hypothetically available for welfare. If the Executive wants to prove it understands the reality students are facing, it should start by putting student need before student spectacle.