Wabaseemoong (White Dog) First Nation struggling to deal with housing conditions
Despite its efforts to create prosperity with resource development partnerships such as Wincrief Forestry Products, Wabaseemoong (Whitedog) First Nation remains one of the poorer aboriginal communities in the Treaty 3 area. As a result, most people would likely find the housing conditions in many of the homes on the remote reserve unfit for inhabiting.
Broken windows and doors are not an uncommon sight in Whitedog, but some homes go well beyond what would likely be considered safe or sanitary. Some houses are literally rotting from the inside out, despite sometimes not being constructed all that long ago. The smell of mold in these dwellings can be overpowering, which, according to their occupants, has caused them and their loved ones to go to the hospital.
Some occupants feel frustrated that their requests for repairs to their houses or a new place to live are ignored or delayed by the band office, causing some to decide to live in the bush or in cars rather than in the houses. But the band administration says they can only fix so much with the money they have, and to solve the housing problems on the reserve would require a massive increase in housing funding from the federal government.
Chris Mandamin tries to avoid living in his house as much as he can, opting instead to stay with family in Whitedog, but sometimes sleeping at his house is unavoidable.
“My cousin and my brother are OK with me staying with them. I help them buy groceries and stuff,” explains Mandamin.
Mandamin said he has been on disability ever since he received a major concussion during a domestic dispute with his common-law partner. It was shortly after this when his home’s electricity was disconnected — that was six years ago.
“It used to be nice before, all of my cabinets were still there,” said Mandamin, gesturing to the door-less remains of his kitchen cabinets.
Mandamin’s home has the telltale stench of mold, and he said his home has become the target of the community’s local youth who break-in to drink as evidenced by the large number of empty liquor bottles and the smashed front window hastily patched with what appears to be a balled up jacket to keep the elements out.
Despite the damage to Mandamin’s home, the house itself seems to be structurally intact, but the same cannot be said of Chad McDonald’s home in Whitedog. The smell of mold inside McDonald’s house is overpowering and it appears that his walls are rotting from within.
On the main floor the drywall has become fragile and has begun crumbling away to expose the studs underneath. The front door to his home is broken which leaves the interior vulnerable to the elements and the plumbing in his bathroom is faulty.
But it’s in the basement of his home where the problems are even more evident. Patches of green mold grow on the walls and McDonald only has to tap the rotting drywall with his foot to cause it to fall away onto the floor.
McDonald is openly frustrated with the response he has been getting from the band office when he has asked for help dealing with his home’s problems.
“The band’s response has been pretty slack,” he said. “Part of that could be money, but I think the biggest problem is favouritism.”
McDonald said with only so much money for repairs to go around, he believes that the family and friends of the chief and the band councillors are given priority over everyone else.
“I put a lot of time in at the band office and I don’t get anything in return … I was living all winter like this,” he said. “Places like this need to be taken down (and replaced) but that’s not being recognized or looked at.”
Chief John Paishk and former band housing director and band councillor Leonard Fisher deny that there is any kind of favouritism at play when making decisions about what gets repaired and what doesn’t. Paishk pointed to the fact that even his own home still has fire damage from 28 years ago that still hasn’t been repaired yet.
Both Paishk and Fisher said the reasons why Whitedog has problems with its housing conditions are complicated. But the biggest reason, as they see it, is that the money they receive for housing from the federal government (which can range to about $350,00 per year) only allows them to fix so much.
There are so many repairs on the band’s to-do list and not enough money to do it, said Fisher, so the band is put in the uncomfortable position of performing a kind of triage on their members’ own homes, and decisions like that are never going to please everybody.
“People feel the need to blame the chief and council when we all really want the same thing,” said Paishk.
“There’s about 200 houses in our community and say you can only fix 19 doors. How do you split them up,” said Fisher. “It’s very hard to decide between the young family with two kids and a broken door and an 90-year-old elder whose door is broken.”
Paishk said it would likely take $10 million to bring all the homes in Whitedog up to a reasonable standard, but discussions with the federal government on this point have not resulted in more money.
Another reason for the condition of many of the homes is the way their occupants take care of them. Those homes on the reserve which are the nicest, said the chief, are those the people living there have the dedication and the means to take care of the building.
Not every one is so fortunate. The community has its struggles with unemployment, poverty, disability and addiction which causes some people to not be able to take care of their homes, allowing them to fall into disrepair no matter how often they are repaired by the band office. The simple fact is, said Fisher, is the band cannot control how people treat their home even if the band is responsible for maintaining them and some people need to choose between food or home repairs.
“Chad McDonald’s has been renovated two times before,” said Fisher. “The first time Health Canada went up there and did an inspection of it and the band renovated the whole house … The second time we went back four years later and we had to do it again. Now it’s back in the same state. I’m not sure what they’re doing, but that house is only 10 years old.”
On top of all of that, said Fisher, many of the homes in Whitedog were built in the 1980s and were only expected to last for 45 years. So many are simply coming to the end of — or have exceeded — their life cycles.