The Storehouse
The Storehouse
“If only one person walks out of that shed with a little bit of hope, I feel that we’ve achieved what we set out to do.”
On the surface, The Storehouse in Pōkeno might appear to be a loose collection of community projects. There’s a men’s shed, a shared garden, a developing she-shed, food initiatives and employment pathways. But behind the tools, seedlings and coffee tables is a much larger ambition to create a place where people feel they belong.
For founder Ray Knight, that vision has been years in the making. Coming from four decades in business management and leadership, Knight says the organisation emerged from a desire to serve the local community in practical ways. “We basically commenced with a face-to-face group, and our intention was to do work in the community, and serve the community,” he says.
What followed was a period of listening. Knight and others connected with police, community leaders, MSD and local organisations to understand what Pōkeno needed most. The answer was not a single service or programme, but a network of support and practical creativity built around people.
“We realised very early that men were going to need to be a very central part of what we do here together,” Knight says. “Men that are on the margins but some that are in different stages of life.” That thinking led to the development of the Men’s Shed, one of the earliest and most visible projects under The Storehouse umbrella. But from the beginning, the vision stretched far beyond a workshop.
Knight describes the heart of the organisation as creating “a community of cherished belonging.”
“That’s a philosophy we bring to every operation we’ve got here, where everyone has a value, everyone should be welcomed,” he says. It’s an ambitious idea, but one focused on teaching practical skills and giving people a place to talk.
The Men’s Shed at The Storehouse has quickly become a cornerstone of that effort. Coordinator Warwick Brough says the shed has only been operating since June 2025, but has already become a gathering point for men of all ages and backgrounds.
Like many men’s sheds across New Zealand, the space offers practical projects and social connection. But here in Pōkeno, the shed is also becoming a bridge between generations. “The older blokes just love coming in, having a yak and telling us their life story,” Brough says with a kind smile. “It’s all about the well-being of men’s health.”
The atmosphere is deliberately welcoming and informal. Some come for companionship, others to use tools and work on projects they cannot manage at home. “We’ve all got a lifetime of skills, so why not hand a bit on to those people that really need it?” he explains.
The wider community is already seeing the results. Men from the shed have participated in local clean-up projects, picking rubbish off the streets in high-visibility gear. “The community can see something’s happening,” Brough says. That visible contribution matters because it shifts perceptions, not only of the shed itself, but of the people involved in it.
Brough recalls a mother bringing her 15-year-old son along while she spent time in other parts of the centre. “He needs some support,” he says. “So what better place to come along and get some skills from guys that don’t mind working beside him.”
The shed’s long-term plans include expanding to multiple days a week and increasing its role in community projects. But even now, Brough believes the greatest impact is often found in the quieter moments. “Just fellowship really,” he says. “Have a talk, achieve something in a day.”
Outside, another part of The Storehouse vision is beginning to find its feet. Community garden volunteer Shayna Russell speaks about the project with the enthusiasm of someone who genuinely loves the soil beneath her feet. “I’ve always been passionate about gardening,” she says. “You know, when it’s in your blood, it’s in your blood.”
Raised garden beds and a newly established kumara patch are only the beginning. Russell says the garden’s purpose extends well beyond growing vegetables.
“The hope is to help people,” she says. “To help people that need it and to get to them.”
The project aims to supply produce for frozen meals and future food support initiatives while also teaching practical life skills. Russell hopes local schools will eventually become involved, believing the educational side is deeply important. She feels many younger people have become disconnected from basic food-growing knowledge.
Alongside fellow volunteers, she imagines a future where produce from the garden helps stock community meals and where partnerships with local landowners create opportunities for wider food production. The project reflects a recurring theme within The Storehouse, one of practical support tied closely to dignity, learning and participation.
And while the Men’s Shed developed first, followed by the community garden, another initiative is now beginning to flourish. For Marian Visicale, the more newly created She Shed started with something as simple as coffee and conversation.
“We had coffee and decided the time has come that we ought to start the She Shed,” she says.
Alongside several other women, affectionately calling themselves “the little busy bees”, Marian is helping shape a space focused on hospitality and companionship. At the centre of their plans is the belief that no one should feel forgotten.
“Now that winter is coming up, when we prepare our meals at home, we are going to make one extra meal,” she explains. “That is going to go into our food bank.” The meals are intended for people recovering from illness, families under stress or anyone needing practical support.
The She Shed also plans to include an op shop and informal social environment where people can simply spend time together. Because beneath the baking and conversation lies a deeper purpose. “There are people out there that are searching,” she says. “There are people that are lonely and just would like to feel that they belong somewhere.”
For Visicale, success is measured less in numbers than in emotional impact.
“If only one person walks out of that shed with a little bit of hope, I feel that we’ve achieved what we set out to do.”
Importantly, she emphasises that the doors are open to everyone.
“Anybody, everybody that needs something, that just wants to come and have a chat,” she says. “It’s open to absolutely everybody.”
Beyond community connection, The Storehouse is also trying to address one of society’s more difficult challenges in helping people rebuild their lives. Knight says the organisation is developing reintegration programmes for former prisoners, many of whom struggle to find acceptance after release. Without support, many return to the environments and behaviours that first led them into trouble.
“We have to break that,” Knight says. “Do you want to have a new path? We will help you on that path.”
Peter Psaros brings decades of community development experience to this side of the vision. Having worked on community projects in South Africa for 30 years, he sees employment as a crucial part of long-term stability. “It’s to take a business idea and then integrate it into projects within the community projects that actually are sustainable,” he says.
Psaros is helping develop employment pathways tied to practical industries such as gardening, steelwork and recycled timber products. The goal is not simply to find people jobs, but to create long-term foundations. “The important part right now is getting the pathways and the end goal solidified,” he says.
He believes support must be flexible enough to include anyone, regardless of age or background. Underlying the practical work is a strong emphasis on character and personal growth.
“I believe that true success is not just achieving a goal, but being able to keep it,” Psaros says.
For him, sustainable success comes from rebuilding confidence, responsibility and self-worth.
“Success is dependent on how the person’s character was built,” he says. “Every foundational layer, the next layer falls really solidly on the previous one.”
Although many of The Storehouse projects remain in development, the organisation already demonstrates something increasingly valuable in modern communities: people working together with shared purpose.
There are plans for recycling native timbers, community composting systems, language support for migrants through a programme called Kiwi Talk and expanded social enterprise projects that can eventually sustain the organisation financially.
Knight knows the journey will take time. “As you can tell, it’s a long-term project,” he says.
Yet even in its early stages, The Storehouse is already creating visible change, not only through gardens and workshops, but through relationships. The simple, yet warm act of personal storytelling framed by laughter and community spirit fills the space.
In a fast-growing town where many people are still finding their place, The Storehouse is offering connection. Whether it is a teenager learning practical skills beside older tradesmen, volunteers teaching children how to grow food, or someone walking through the doors looking for company, the organisation’s impact is already reaching far beyond any single programme.