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 View More >>

Ah, the joys of being a landlord in New Zealand. Where every week is a new episode of “You Just Can’t Make This Stuff Up.” Meet Crystal (no pun intended, but fitting, you’ll see why) and her boyfriend Dylan—young, sweet, and utterly clueless. They rented my house, and things were fine… until Uncle Meth moved in. Yep, turns out Uncle had a bit of a P habit, and soon enough, so did my house. I did the responsible thing: tested the property, confirmed contamination, and sadly had to ask Crystal and Dylan to leave. To their credit, they didn’t trash the place, To View More >>

Some tenancy disputes test your patience. Others test your faith in humanity. This one did both — and then some. It began simply enough. My commercial tenant, Honest Tom, a hardworking man who just wanted to get on with life and avoid unnecessary drama, sublet part of his rented property (with our blessing) — the office space, which was semi-liveable.  It had a kitchen area and toilet.  We later added a bathroom for his tenant. Enter Tallulah Twaddle: all smiles, stories, and the kind of creative imagination that should have earned her a spot writing fiction, not tenancy To View More >>

Being a landlord in New Zealand is not what you think it is. You might imagine someone sipping flat whites in a linen shirt, checking their online banking while tenants magically pay rent on time and houses stay miraculously intact. I wish. The reality? Let’s just say I’ve seen more broken promises than a reality TV reunion episode—and none of it makes for good dinner party conversation. Over the years, I’ve managed everything from tidy family homes to commercial spaces filled with even less tidy stories. I’ve scrubbed floors I didn’t dirty, forked out thousands To View More >>