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Gambling was ingrained in Rose’s life from early childhood - she was her mother’s “lucky charm” at the TAB. Then when she lost her mum, she buried her grief in gambling and drinking of her own. This gambling harm awareness week, Rose reflects on the love of her family as she slowly recovered from her addictions. Jaime Lyth reports.

Rose’s brother used to buy her groceries when she couldn’t feed her family due to her gambling addiction.

But eventually one day, he said no.

“He said no more, I’m no longer going to lend you money. I’m no longer going to enable you.

“That would have taken a lot of strength and courage,” Rose - who did not want her surname used - told the Herald.

She says she didn’t recognise her own addiction because gambling had been so normalised throughout her life.

Much of Rose’s upbringing was spent at the local TAB in Ōtara, Auckland, she said.

“Those are my early memories because my mother saw me as a lucky charm.

“I would actually be taken out of school to go to the TAB ... so that she could win.

Rose estimates that at her worst she spent $10,000 a month on gambling. Photo / Michael Craig

“It was lonely. It was confusing. Why am I here, not at school?”.

Six-year-old Rose would crawl underneath tables while her mother gambled - hunting for dropped coins she could spend on lollies at the dairy.

At the height of her addiction, Rose estimates she spent $10,000 a month on gambling.

“The many days and hours I spent in the casino and in the pubs would have been over half my life.

“Gambling stopped all the thinking, all the stress and the negative feelings - it all went away. But it was a delusion.”

Most of Rose’s big wins didn’t make it home - she would spend them on more gambling.

“I was going on binges for two days, being drunk, staying up gambling.”

Rose now believes she gambled out of grief for her mum, who died when Rose was just 21.

“I was her driver when she was alive. I took her to the Sky City Casino. I took her to the pubs and I would pick her up because she would drink while gambling.

“I was never interested in the pokie machines - that was her thing. But when she passed away - in my grief process, that’s where I connected with her.”

Rose started going to the pubs her mum liked, and playing the games her mum used to.

For 15 years, she says, it stopped the stress and hurt.

“It just took over ... even though I would pay my bills and the shopping, I would save money specifically to go out gambling.”

Rose now believes she gambled out of grief for the loss of her mum. Photo / Michael Craig

Rose paints a picture of gambling that was intertwined with daily life in her community.

Gambling spots were seen as social places in Ōtara, she said.

“It was normalised because it was a fundraising option. It was a place for people to get together.

“They had cheap food. We associate kai with a lot of things and our way of being ... we felt like part of something bigger and greater.

“And then of course there was alcohol, drinking while they were gambling. They would smoke up a storm in the hall.

“I think for myself as a Māori, we like to be connected and we work as a collective - regardless of whether it’s positive or negative.”

While it may have been a community hotspot, Rose remembers an isolating childhood surrounded by adults instead of kids her age.

In the middle of the night, Rose’s mother would leave the home to play housie and cards.

“I feel a sense of abandonment as we’re talking about when she would go gambling ... I guess it still didn’t stop me from going down that pathway.”

Rose started gambling by herself when she was 13.

Auckland-based mother of six Rose recalls many childhood memories at the local TAB. Photo / Michael Craig

There were no restrictions around teenagers gambling by playing housie at the time.

“I recall winning the special... it was $600 and I split it with my sister because she paid for the ticket - $300 to a teenager is a lot of money.”

Rose is now 10 years sober from gambling and alcohol.

Realising she had a problem was the start of a long recovery.

“When I reached out to services, it was more around addiction and mental health, not gambling harm.

“Today, though, there’s plenty of services out there that I’m so grateful for [especially] the Kaupapa Māori services.”

Rose said her family has been integral to her recovery, which she emphasises have not been “quick fixes”.

“It takes time, it takes energy, it takes effort, it takes tears and sweat and my family is able to sit in that space and be my recovery too.

“Even today, because I have tendencies of competitiveness, I can’t play games, I can’t play cards too long because it kicks in and I just want to win.”

Research has linked gambling addiction to serious mental health issues as well as family violence and crime, with one study suggesting it was a driving factor in some 10,000 Kiwis annually breaking the law.

“I’d really like to see [gambling harm awareness] in the education system,” said Rose.

She also wants to see gambling harm education in prisonsas well as holistic gambling services that include whānau and communities.

“When my brother said no, that was a light being switched on for me, even though it took many more steps ... to finally come to a place where I got out of it,” said Rose.

“If you’re in addiction, you’re not alone, even though you feel alone and you feel stuck ... you just have to make that start.”

Where to get help:

• -
• - Gambling Helpline: 0800 654 655 or text 8006. Available 24/7, 7 days a week.
• - Problem Gambling Foundation: 0800 664 262 or text 5819. Email [email protected].
  Te Piringa Tupono, Māori service between Auckland and Tuakau: 09 263 8040. Email [email protected].
• - Mapu Maia, Pasifika gambling support service: 0800 21 21 22. Email [email protected]
• - Asian Family Services: 0800 862 342 or text 832. Email [email protected].

Jaime Lyth is a multimedia journalist for the New Zealand Herald, focusing on crime and breaking news. Lyth began working under the NZ Herald masthead in 2021 as a reporter for the Northern Advocate in Whangārei.