Photo: Mengshin Lin Associated Press In the photo, we see the progress of construction work on Ka La'i Ola, a 450-unit project aimed at providing assistance and stable housing to victims of the wildfires. The $115 million project is funded by the State of Hawaii and the Hawaii Community Foundation.
Alexis Riopel
Published at 0:00
- United States
To wipe the slate clean. The expression is both literal and figurative in Lahaina, a small Hawaiian town that burned furiously exactly one year ago. Bulldozers have razed the charred houses, now replaced with neat gravel. And the victims are preparing to start anew, with regulatory reform that will slow the pace of tourism a bit.
Between the empty residential lots, banana trees and bougainvillea bloom. The scarred areas of the community of 13,000 people (before the fires) remain mostly cordoned off. Roadblocks are being lifted as water and sewer lines become operational again. Very few rebuilding permits have been applied for so far. The burning barely subsides.
“On August 8, 2023, I was home with the kids. We live in Honokowai, about 6 miles from Lāhainā. Around 6 p.m., I heard there was a fire going on there. I ran over to help people who were fleeing, and they were telling me, ‘Lāhainā is gone.’ I couldn’t believe it,” said Jordan Ruidas, an organizer with the activist group Lahaina Strong. She has been helping disaster victims for the past twelve months.
Photo: Lindsey Wasson Associated Press Cars destroyed by fire in August 2023 still lie near a swimming pool in the summer of 2024.
The fire, the deadliest in the United States in a century, claimed 102 lives. And 3,312 buildings — mostly small houses — burned. More than 8,000 people lost their homes. For months, thousands of them found shelter at the hotel, thanks to a program funded by the federal government and administered by the Red Cross. The last beneficiaries of this program just left their hotel rooms last month.
200% Deposit Bonus up to €3,000 180% First Deposit Bonus up to $20,000The vast majority of victims now have a real home. Most found a home elsewhere on Maui, but far from Lāhainā, a 45-minute drive or more. It is also estimated that more than 1,000 families have left the island, or even Hawaii, due to the exorbitant price of housing. In the county, the median rent for a one-bedroom apartment is close to $2,500 per month. Aid programs exist, but they will not last forever.
Rebuilding the burned heart of Lāhainā will take years. To reintegrate the victims more quickly, affordable modular homes are being built near town. But these few hundred units won’t be enough. Fortunately, another source of housing is set to become available on Maui soon: Half of the Airbnb-style condos will have their permits expired by January 2026 under a new regulation.
The idea came from Lahaina Strong. Last November, the group set up a protest camp on the hyper-touristy beach of Kā‘anapali, just north of the burned city, to promote this solution. On Maui, more than 7,000 condo units have benefited since 2001 from an acquired right to practice short-term rentals, even outside the authorized zones. The activists demanded the immediate revocation of this privilege.
At the beginning of the occupation of Kā‘anapali, the mayor of Maui and the governor of Hawaii were rather cold to this idea. It must be said that such a drain on tourist accommodation will take away oxygen from this vital industry. But, after much reflection, the elected officials finally proposed, in May 2024, to put an end to the acquired right regime. A victory for Lahaina Strong, who was dismantling her tents. “Honestly, it's incredible,” Ms. Ruidas rejoices.
A $4 billion settlement
Carolyn Auweloa, a native of Lahaina, is concerned that the town’s historic and popular core will be taken over by real estate speculators. Many small homeowners won’t be able to afford to rebuild their burned homes. Auweloa is actively involved in a Lahaina Community Land Trust that offers to buy back land from impoverished residents.
“Our model is to protect these lands in perpetuity from speculation, and to provide affordable housing and commercial space for locals,” she says. So far, very few of the burned lots have been the subject of real estate transactions, but notices of sale are starting to appear. The land trust, financed by donations and state subsidies, is also preparing to conclude its first acquisition.
As for fire prevention, the necessary changes are moving at a snail’s pace. Lāhainā is located in an arid region that climate change will only make more dry. To prevent fires, the agricultural wastelands overlooking the city will have to be better controlled. A year after the disaster, the same invasive, yellow, flammable grasses still reign there.
“These foreign grasses are naturalized in Hawaii. We can’t get rid of them completely. However, grazing animals, like cows, can reduce the amount of fuel,” says Auweloa, who is also an agricultural specialist on a Maui economic recovery committee. One landowner in Lāhainā talks about integrating livestock onto his wastelands, but others are keeping mum.
Legally, no organization has yet been officially held responsible for the Lāhainā fire. The findings of an investigation by a federal office affiliated with the Justice Department are yet to be made public. But already, as of Friday, seven parties—including Hawaiian Electric, the state of Hawaii, Maui County, and Kamehameha Schools (a major landowner)—have offered $4 billion in compensation to victims.