For those with a stake in the housing market, the past few years have probably been a dream come true.
Many Australian towns and cities have ridden a housing boom – but what about those who have been left behind?
In Queensland, a critical housing shortage has seen rental vacancies fall below one per cent, as tens-of-thousands wait for public housing and property prices soar.
While in the Northern Territory, remote communities are battling overcrowding – a leading driver of health and education inequalities – with many on the brink of homelessness.
For these Australians, the dream of having a place to call their own remains just that.
The 'invisible homeless'
In the Northern Territory's remote communities, there is no private market and residents rely on public housing.
The territory has Australia's highest rates of overcrowded housing, which is part of a decades-long crisis that has prompted more than $1.5 billion in funding from federal and NT governments.
Artist Megan Djuramalwuy Yunupingu works at the art centre in the Arnhem Land community of Galiwin'ku on Elcho Island, which – including surrounding homelands – is home to more than 2,000 people.
Every evening she returns to stay with family in demountable government housing.
Sixteen people share six small bedrooms.
It wasn't so long ago that Ms Yunupingu was living in a tent, when the lounge room at her family's house became too crowded.
Her aunt offered her a spot in the demountable, where she currently shares a room with her grandson.
Ms Yunupingu said the shared bedroom constantly floods when people shower in the bathroom next door because of a shoddy drainage design.
"So you get a pond of water and ... I have to mop that up ever half an hour," she said.
A cyclone in north-east Arnhem Land six years ago made the overcrowding problem worse, destroying 80 homes in the community.
They have been slowly replaced.
According to government data, more than 80 per cent of the homes on the island remain overcrowded, a figure higher than five years ago.
The stress and instability of constantly moving around is taking its toll on Ms Yunupingu and she is worried about how much sleep everyone is getting.
“The children need to sleep better at night so they can go to school in the morning feeling better about themselves, that they’ve had a good night’s sleep,” Ms Yunupingu said.
'A place to call our home'
A short drive away, Nadyezhda Dilipuma Pozzana also shares a bedroom with her son, who has a disability and needs her full-time care.
"My son's already been initiated so culturally we shouldn't be sleeping in the same room but unfortunately because of our circumstances we have to share a bedroom," she said.
Ms Pozzana sleeps on a mattress on the floor, however she said her situation was luxury compared to others in the community.
"It's the Australian dream to have your own home, have your own castle," she said.
Ms Pozzana said moving to Darwin was not an option for many in the community.
"My son who I lost last year, 26 years old, is buried on this island," she said.
"Would you as a mother or a father leave your son's graveyard to go and live in Darwin?
"This is our ancestral lands, our community, our people – it's not a lifestyle choice, it's a connection to country and a connection to loved ones that are out here."
'A roof over our head'
Thousands of kilometres away in Beenleigh, in south-east Queensland, Danni Cox fears she will soon be living in her car.
Ms Cox receives a disability support pension and shares custody of her two sons.
Dealing with months of failed applications and rejection letters, she is among many who have become victims of a "terrible perfect storm" in the state's property market.
The arrival of tens-of-thousands of interstate migrants during the pandemic led to record low rental vacancy rates and rental prices at record highs.
After five years, Ms Cox's landlord has ended her tenancy and despite her "perfect" rental history she cannot find a new home.
"I lay awake at night not sleeping because of the fact that I'm not too sure what's going to happen," Ms Cox said.
"Everybody's advice has just been 'keep applying, keep applying' and I'm doing that.
"But time's going to run out."
Ms Cox has already packed most of her belongings into storage as the final days of her tenancy tick away.
"The opportunity to just have the great Australian dream, which is just a roof over our head, even if it's just a tin roof, I'd be happy with that."
50,000 Queenslanders on social housing waitlist
This is a dream shared by more than 50,000 Queenslanders currently on the state's social housing waitlist – as well as the thousands of others who were displaced by the 2022 floods.
Two months after the disaster, Ipswich woman Leanne Jury is sharing the spare room of a relative's home with her son, while her daughter is sleeping in the office.
She had spent months over the Christmas season searching for a home and moved in just nine days before floods destroyed the property.
"I applied to at least about 20 to 25 [properties] and got turned down for every single one, bar the one that got flooded," she said.
"After the floods, with hundreds of people all fighting for houses, the whole thought of trying to start again [was] ridiculous."
She was one of more than 15,000 south-east Queenslanders who lost their homes in the 2022 floods.
Hundreds of others were being housed in emergency accommodation.
"The biggest, biggest problem at the moment is just trying to find some way to live," Ms Jury said.
She had hoped to find somewhere close to her daughter's school in Ipswich city, but out of desperation broadened her search to the city's outer suburbs.
She was eventually approved for a rental but she will pay significantly more rent than the previous tenant.
"If you're not willing to pay it somebody else is," she said.
"There's no point breaking down and curling up in the corner.
"You've just got to keep going and be there for the kids, they need a home, they need stability."
New housing units a 'drop in the ocean'
With such a pressing need, not-for-profit social housing providers including Brisbane Housing Company have been swamped.
"We need money and we need commitment from government to really increase that supply of social and affordable housing," BHC chief executive Rebecca Oelkers said.
She said they had built around 2,000 social and affordable housing units in Queensland but it was a "drop in the ocean" compared to the lengthy public housing waitlist.
"At the end of the day we all only get one life."
'It can be done better'
Back on Elcho Island in the Northern Territory, locals are hoping the planned construction of houses, to address overcrowding, continues on schedule.
Local Aboriginal corporation Bukmak was last year given a contract to build 87 government houses over five years in Galiwin'ku, with a promise from the government that locals would be trained up in much-needed jobs in the process.
The government said this model would be rolled out in other remote communities, and that its employment targets were being met.
Resident Nadyezhda Pozzana is skeptical, however, and wants to see more evidence about how many locals are being trained up.
"There's two houses being built on either side of us," she said.
"I've only seen one Aboriginal person working with the construction blokes."
Fourteen houses under a new contract – and nine extra rooms – are due to be complete by the end of June.
