A few weeks before we were due to interview her, Māori Warden Julia Murray passed away. Kōkiri headed to Ōtāhuhu to meet her grandchildren, children and lifelong friends.

It’s the end of the day as Wardens gather at the rundown, graffiti tagged community centre. Most have day jobs, courses or other mahi so 7pm was the earliest they could make it. Ranging in age from 19 to 73, as they change into uniforms, jokes and laughter brighten dilapidated rooms. The older ones have been volunteering in their communities for years. When it comes to whakapapa they chuckle, “that’s easy, we’re all whānau dear and we’re all Ngāpuhi.” After a hilarious photo session in failing light, we head inside for a cuppa and a kōrero.

There’s hard case stories; highlights like helping host Rugby World Cup 2011. But there’s just as many hard-hitting ones. Amongst the festivities of last year’s Polyfest – there was also unimaginable heartbreak. A kuia who’d come to watch her moko perform collapsed suddenly and as medics fought in vain to save her life, some of New Zealand’s youngest Māori Wardens rushed to form a protective circle around her. They held up white sheets to shield the dying elder and her devastated whānau from thousands of curious festival goers. Young mum Margaret (aka Minty) Murray shakes her head as she remembers the sad day.

“There was just no way we were going to let anyone near her. No way.”

Only weeks earlier the Murray grandchildren had farewelled their own grandfather, David. Little did they know that a few months later they’d be burying their beloved Nana, Julia.

Donning the black uniform of the Māori Wardens and joining your grandmother and her mates isn’t where you’d find most teens on a Friday night - but the Murrays aren’t your typical whānau. Six of Julia’s mokopuna, two daughters and several ‘moko-in-laws’ are warranted Māori Wardens.

Granddaughter Margaret says Nana urged whānau to get involved, “come on, come and be my tonotono, just check it out .. nek minnit!”. Grandson Trevor Lee was in Year 12 when he signed up and says other rangatahi are curious when they see them in uniform.

“When they find out its unpaid they go: ‘So, um what’s in it for you then?’”

For Trevor it’s helped him gain NCEA Level 2. His teachers were astounded to discover the teen had been patrolling the streets as a Warden and passing two accredited security courses as well as taking part in Police training, system management and First Aid.

When Christchurch was levelled by a 6.3 magnitude earthquake in February 2011, Ōtāhuhu Māori Wardens headed south to help. Deployed by Te Puni Kōkiri they joined Wardens from all over Aotearoa and spent weeks knocking on doors, giving out kai and making sure quake victims were OK. Their voices lower as they talk about finding people weeks after the quake who’d been hiding in their homes, alone, terrified and traumatised.

“Sometimes? All they needed was a hug. Sometimes they were too scared to come outside, then too scared to go back inside,” says Margaret.

They’re quick to point out that no matter what, Wardens are there for everyone: not just Māori. While most welcomed help, a few did the opposite. Margaret’s partner William Hadfield remembers one street where Wardens were faced with racism in the form of some “aggro Skinheads”. But after a while without water or kai, they ended up coming out and accepting help. “No one talked about what they’d done. It was just, here you go Bro’,” says William.

Glenis King says her “cuzzy” Julia encouraged her to join the Māori Wardens. Like a whānau there’s a place for everyone including her son Kaaka who has an intellectual disability and runs the RT when the crew are out on the road. It’s the way you approach people that makes the world of difference in our mahi she says.

“So instead of threatening them and shouting, “Oi! What are you lot doing? We’ll get the Police down here!’, you walk over and say “Kia ora. How’s it going? Are you OK? What’s up?”

If you give manners and respect out, there’s a better chance that you’ll get it back says Glenis.

Ōtāhuhu stalwart Margaret Chopping, 73, can be found most days running the local Māori Wardens' Office. “I just love Otahuhu, I love helping people, especially those that really need it, the young ones and the older ones.”

She’s proud of the rangatahi who have joined the Wardens but is also keen for them to take on leadership roles: “it’s got to be sustainable, that’s the only way we can keep it all going.”

It’s only been a few months since Julia passed away. As her whānau and friends talk about their mahi, she’s never far from the kōrero. Her daughter Lisa says at first she wasn’t into the Wardens' mahi but after watching her mother walk into a South Auckland pub and “do her stuff”, she joined up. She says her mum had a knack of finding the hidden talents in young people who weren’t your typical stand-outs, “she could make them shine.”

“She always had faith in her young ones. Some people would look at them and ask her, ‘Do you really think they can do it?’ and she’d turn around and say, “I don’t think: I know.’”