My name is Amber, but my friends call me Precious—I don’t really know why. I’m 17. I love basketball and rugby. I can eat a whole punnet of strawberries in minutes. And I’m a mum to the most beautiful baby girl, Lily. She’s six weeks old.

When people see me with her, they tell me I’m good. They say I’m patient, intuitive, protective. But if you knew where I came from, you might wonder how.

The truth is, I never had a childhood. My mum and her disgusting partner are both in jail for what they did to me. I ran away from them – crashing on friends’ couches, sleeping on the streets.
I was invisible to the system that was supposed to protect me.

When Barnardos stepped in, everything I owned fit into a single backpack. I had no money, no home, nothing. But I didn’t believe I deserved help. So I ran away, again. I tried to find my ex-boyfriend in Auckland. It didn’t turn out well – he was violent with me, my phone got smashed and I ended up sleeping on the streets.

Then I found out I was pregnant. And everything changed.

I knew I would never get rid of her. I love babies, always have. But I also knew I couldn’t keep going
the way I was. At the time, I had dropped out of school, drinking, doing whatever I wanted. I told myself I knew what I was doing, but I didn’t.

When I found out about Lily, I knew I had to pull my head in. I couldn’t be a mum and have these immature behaviours at the same time.

I reached out to Barnardos. I was hard work last year, but Awhina, my social worker, approached things in a way that no one else had.

She doesn’t judge me, but she’s straight up – she will tell me the things the way they are. I was actually scared the first time I met her because she’s the first person who’s actually put it out there, she’s pretty cool.

So, when I was in trouble in Auckland, I thought perhaps I could trust her, and I called. And she helped.

I had nowhere to live, so she helped me find emergency housing. You’d think it’s better than the street, but you’ve got to wonder… The first place I was sent to, Awhina and I got there and a gang member was using my bedroom for sex. In the room next door, they were dealing drugs.
And I’m sure the motel manager was high.

Emergency housing… it’s not the best. You go there thinking it will be better than the street, because you live by yourself. But then when you get there, there are people doing drugs all the time, and all you can hear is arguing and yelling.

Awhina put a safety plan in place. I kept my door locked. She’d do a special knock or text me when she was at the door. She made sure I had everything I needed so I didn’t have to leave my room.

It took a few attempts to find the right accommodation – not all teen parent accommodations are well set up for young mums, and some were triggering environments for me.

I just felt trapped in exactly what I was trying to get away from.

One place I was in, there was a girl vaping around her one-year-old, swearing at her, leaving her alone. I don’t like that – my mum used to smoke around my brothers and make them entertain themselves.

Eventually, Awhina helped secure a safe home for young mums like me committed to creating the best
future for our babies. Just in time for Lily’s arrival.

Becoming a mum

When I was in the hospital, I was scared. I felt that, because I was young, pregnant, and in the system, I wasn’t treated the same. No one explained anything properly—they just told me what to do. I thought someone would take my baby away.

Awhina was helpful in reminding me I could make my own decisions. And she stood up for me multiple times. We found a new midwife – she was really good, and we asked questions when things were unexplained.

The birth went alright, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off Lily, I was too worried she’d be taken off me. So I didn’t sleep a lot.

Four days later, I brought Lily home. And two weeks after that, I was back in my course. The next week,
I was at the gym.

I had already learned how to budget—because growing up with nothing teaches you that real quick.

I don’t like the feeling of not having money when I need stuff. When we needed something, we didn’t have it, because Mum spent it on who knows what. So I like knowing that if I need money for food or shopping, I have it.

Things are going pretty well, really. Lily’s so tiny and beautiful. I look forward to watching her grow up.

I really hope she gets curly hair, my eyes and genes, and that she follows my passion of playing basketball, so she’ll need to be tall. I really hope she doesn’t get into netball, no way.

More seriously, I hope she stays at school and she finishes, and that she has a nice and beautiful life.
I love my baby and I can’t even sleep without her by my side.
She’s always with me and I can’t stop looking at her.

My goals for the year:
- Get into a carpentry course.
- Get Lily into kindy.
- Get our own rental.

I’m currently finishing up my course to get the NCEA credits I am missing to get into my carpentry course. I’ve always wanted to be a builder. One day, I’ll build my own house. I’ll build houses for my siblings too, so they never have to worry about rent or bills. And I’ll have my own building company.

People think when you grow up like I did, your future is already decided. But I’m here to tell you, it’s not.

Oranga Tamariki is not involved. Awhina still hangs around, along with my Youth Coach who’s also played a big part in getting me where I am today, but apart from them, it’s just Lily and me.

A lot of people assume young mums won’t make it.
They think we’re irresponsible, that we don’t care, that we’ll end up just like our parents. I don’t think people realise how hard we fight to prove them wrong.

*To protect privacy, names have been changed and models used.

Defying the odds: a young mum rewrites her story