They looked great on paper.

Polite. Passionate about animals. Charming, even.
They spoke kindly. Said they were grateful for the opportunity to live in my home and run their small business. They even told me my dog would always be welcome.

On the surface, they seemed like ideal tenants — warm, responsible, committed.

But behind that carefully crafted image was a very different reality.

Rent wasn’t paid — not for weeks, then months.
The property was used for purposes never agreed to.
Requests were ignored. Agreements were broken.
And when I finally asked them to pay what they owed or leave, the charm vanished.

That’s when the insults began.
I was called names. Accused of being greedy, unstable, heartless.
Because in their minds, I wasn’t a person anymore — just a greedy landlord. A target. An obstacle between them and what they felt entitled to.

The Real Cost of the Illusion

It’s one thing to be lied to.
It’s another to be gaslit — to have people paint themselves as victims while using your home, refusing to pay, and publicly accusing you of cruelty just for asking them to honor a legal agreement.

What’s worse is that the system supports this.
Despite clear breaches, the law gave them more time.
Despite the arrears, the damage, the intimidation — I had to wait.
File more paperwork. Follow every step. Be patient. Be professional.
While they twisted the truth and played the system to its fullest.

This Isn’t a One-Off

I wish I could say this was unusual. It’s not.

Landlords all over the country are dealing with this dual reality:

• The public-facing image of tenants who "just need a break"

• And the behind-the-scenes nightmare of unpaid rent, damaged homes, and hostile standoffs.

And yet, the narrative still so often paints landlords as villains — faceless, heartless, loaded with power.

That’s not the story I’m living.
I’m just someone trying to protect my home, cover my mortgage, and hold people accountable.

Why I’m Sharing This

I’m not here to name names. I’m here to name patterns.

Because this isn’t just about one tenant or one story.
It’s about the growing number of landlords being manipulated by people who know how to play the system — and play it well.

It’s about the emotional toll of being lied to while still trying to do the right thing.
It’s about a tenancy system that’s lost balance — where accountability is optional and kindness gets punished.

So if you’re a landlord walking through something similar — you’re not alone.

And if you’ve never experienced this, don’t assume the surface always tells the truth.

Sometimes the kindest faces hide the most damage.

People often say, “You poor thing—those tenants are terrible!”

Because, regardless of how bad your tenants are—how dishonest, how manipulative, how brazenly criminal—they’ve been handed the ultimate weapon: a tenancy system that gives them time, sympathy, and loopholes, while landlords are left bleeding.

They can stop paying rent for weeks or months. They can promise to leave, then change their minds at the last minute. They can use your home as a business, kennel, dump, or drug lab. And when you finally get to Tribunal—after jumping through every procedural hoop—there’s still no guarantee of immediate consequences.

I’m not exaggerating when I say: some tenants have more rights squatting in your house than you do owning it.

The real heartbreak?
It’s not just the money (though losing thousands in unpaid rent and legal costs cuts deep). It’s the powerlessness. The slow grind of bureaucracy that tells you to wait while they steal your income, your time, and your peace of mind.

Here’s what I’ve come to realise: it’s not just about bad tenants. It’s about a tenancy system that protects and enables them to keep stealing from people like me.

Let me walk you through my reality.

I filed with Tenancy Services in March.
I had an ineffective hearing in April.
Then another hearing in June, which finally resulted in an order for immediate possession and arrears.
I could have enforced it immediately, but I was lenient. I gave them three days to leave. Then, when they asked, I gave them another three.

That turned into a whole extra week of free rent in my home.
And guess what? After all that, they turned around and said, “We’re not leaving.”

I know you are thinking, "Why did I give them yet another chance?"  But I need to be able to sleep at night, and they were once again very convincing in their arguments.

So I had to apply for an eviction warrant—another week of free rent while the paperwork was processed.
And now I wait for a bailiff, which could mean yet another week… or more.
All the while, they live in my house, rent-free, despite breaking the law and breaching the contract.

Let me be clear: they legally should have left the premises weeks ago.
But the system says I must follow a legal process, and that takes weeks.

This is how landlords are slowly financially gutted—not just by dishonest tenants, but by a government and legal structure that rewards non-compliance and punishes responsibility.

They tell us we’re protected. But in reality?
Landlords are left holding the costs, the stress, and the legal limbo, while tenants who break the rules continue to live on our dime.

It’s not just unfair. It’s state-sanctioned theft.
And it’s happening every day in homes just like mine.

If we want change, we need to speak up. Loudly. Because behind every “bad tenant” story is a silent system quietly enabling them—and it’s landlords who pay the price.

They said OBie and I would always be welcome.
They said they were grateful.
They said a lot of things.

Until I asked them to do one simple, reasonable thing:
Pay the rent they had agreed to.

From that moment on, I was no longer the kind, accommodating landlord who let them run a business from my home, live rent-free for weeks, and turn my property into their own kingdom.
No — I became a “disgusting troll”,
a “flea sucking the life out of everything”,
and, my personal favourite, someone who was “acting in a drug-addled manner.”

All because I asked them to honour the contract they signed.
Because I was upset that I couldn’t afford to pay the mortgage and insurance while they were refusing to pay thousands in arrears.

They locked me out of my own property.
They denied access for inspections and basic maintenance.
They lived in my home without paying rent, and I was borrowing money from friends just to cover the expenses.

And then — they took to Facebook.

Posting quotes about kindness. Compassion. Karma.
(Actual screenshots below, because I couldn’t write satire this good.)

“Shoutout to people whose kindness isn’t a strategy but a way of life.”
“I’m so sick of ugly. Not looks. Ugly hearts. Ugly actions.”

Apparently, the irony was lost on them.

This isn’t a tale of bitterness.
It’s a tale of how warped the landlord narrative has become — where kindness is mistaken for weakness, contracts are treated as suggestions, and any effort to protect your home is painted as cruelty.

They weren’t victims of a greedy landlord.
They were beneficiaries of one who gave them trust, flexibility, and patience — and got malice in return.

But here’s the thing:
Karma doesn’t need a key.
And it never forgets an address.

This story is part of my series: “A Day in the Life of a New Zealand Landlord.” For more behind-the-scenes truths from the rental front lines, stay tuned. The next chapter might be funnier — or worse.