When a Bellyful volunteer knocked on Riika’s door during COVID, she thought she was simply receiving a few meals. Five years later, as Branch Coordinator of Bellyful Whitianga, Riika can see that knock gave her something even more important: connection, friendship and the village she had been missing.
Riika shares her story:
The first person I properly spoke to after giving birth wasn’t a family member or a friend. It was a Bellyful volunteer standing on the other side of our deck during COVID.
When my daughter was born, I had only recently moved to Whitianga. My family and friends were in Finland, the borders were closed, there were no grandparents flying over, no friends dropping in for a cup of tea, no village around us. That’s when our midwife referred us to Bellyful.
To be honest, I didn’t think we needed it.
I’d learned to be fiercely independent. When you move to a new country on your own, you get used to figuring things out because there’s often no one else to lean on. We were managing. I thought Bellyful was for families who were having a much harder time than we were.
Then Fran knocked on the door.
Because of COVID restrictions, she couldn’t come inside, so we stood on opposite sides of the deck and talked. She asked how I was doing and genuinely listened. She’d also moved to New Zealand from Europe, so she understood what it was like to have a baby far from family.
Years later, I can’t tell you what was in those meal containers.
But I can tell you exactly how Fran made me feel that day.
Looking back, I realise Bellyful was never just about the meals. It was about someone showing up, taking the time to listen and reminding me I wasn’t alone. For the first time since giving birth, I truly felt seen.
As the months passed and life slowly returned to normal, I realised how isolated I’d become. Lockdowns had meant I’d never had the chance to build a community. My world had become very small. Most days, it was just my baby and me. Apart from my partner, the only people I regularly spoke to in person were the supermarket checkout staff.
I didn’t join Bellyful to give back. I joined because I needed people to talk to, something meaningful to do, to get out of the house and to be something other than “Mum” for a little while. I needed Bellyful just as much as Bellyful needed me, if not more.
At my first Cookathon, the annual Christmas mince pie bake, I arrived feeling nervous but found music, laughter, some burnt pies and people who made me feel welcome from the moment I walked through the door.
The monthly Cookathons soon became the highlight of my month. They gave me friendships, something to look forward to and, without realising it, the village I’d been missing.
Then last year, our Branch Coordinator announced she was leaving and asked if I’d take over the branch.
My immediate response was, “Absolutely not!”
I had a demanding full-time job, a young daughter and more than enough on my plate already. But she was persistent, and our volunteers promised I wouldn’t be doing it alone. They’ve kept that promise ever since.
One of the greatest privileges of being Branch Coordinator is witnessing the extraordinary kindness of our volunteers. Whether it’s delivering meals after work, quietly knitting a cardigan for a baby coming home from NICU to tuck into their delivery bag, or simply showing up month after month to cook for hours, they pour so much love into families they’ve never met.
Watching that kindness reminds me where my own Bellyful journey began.
Five years ago, I was the new mum opening the door. Today, I have the privilege of making sure someone else hears that same knock.
