Tell us about Storybites. How did you start, and do you have a favourite story you've told so far?
Storybites was born out of necessity during the lockdowns, when I realised the restaurant industry wasn’t struggling because of a lack of content — it was struggling because of a lack of collaboration. Even the most beautifully shot videos weren’t landing if they didn’t reach the right audiences.
We decided to change that by building a network that celebrated the diversity of Aotearoa’s food culture — starting in Ōtautahi Christchurch and expanding across New Zealand. Our goal was to broaden the Kiwi understanding of food and the cultures behind it. One day you might learn about French cannelés; the next, you’re deep in a story about Korean fried chicken.
We’re here to tell the evolving story of who we are as New Zealanders through the lens of food — community by community, kitchen by kitchen.
As for a favourite story, it’s hard to choose one. But some of the most meaningful moments come from the stories that don’t make headlines — like our recent project with Eamon Joe, who’s been running Frisco Fisheries, his fish and chip shop in Church Corner, for 37 years. Sitting down with him over coffee and helping share his story reminded me why we do this: to celebrate the people and places that often go unnoticed, but hold so much of our collective identity.
Have you always had an interest in marketing and video content?
Yes — though my love for this space started long before I knew it was called “marketing” or “content creation.” At its heart, what I’ve always been drawn to is storytelling.
When I was younger, I was active in my local church and youth group, where my youth pastor encouraged me to engage people through stories. That idea stuck with me — that stories have the power to move, connect, and transform.
Having a camera in your hand is like having a passport to purpose. If you’re curious enough, you can use it to explore any world you want — whether that’s banana farmers in Malaysia or chefs in Christchurch.
Food became my world. I’ve always loved connecting with chefs and seeing the artistry behind what they do. When you care deeply about people and tell their stories sincerely, you naturally build trust. And in this industry, that’s everything. That intersection of authenticity, creativity, and purpose — that’s what keeps me inspired every day.
You also did your Master of Audiology here — what drew you to audiology?
Music has been a constant in my life since I was born. My mum’s a piano teacher, and my dad has always had music playing in the house — usually on the CD player he loves. So, sound has always meant something to me.
I’d always imagined myself doing something healthcare-related, like optometry. But one day, an auntie mentioned that her daughter was studying audiology. I thought that meant DJing at clubs — until I learned it was about helping people hear better and reconnect with their world. That instantly resonated.
At 17, I spent a day interning with the Communication Discorders Department thanks to my careers advisor at Riccarton High School making the connection, where I first met Jonny Grady, who was the clinical educator. That early experience sparked a real sense of purpose for me. I went on to study a Bachelor of Commerce first, knowing I wanted a foundation in business and leadership before diving into audiology.
Getting into the master’s programme was a huge honour — only sixteen students were accepted each year — and it turned out to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But what I took away wasn’t just technical knowledge. It was the art of listening — really listening.
We have two ears and one mouth for a reason. Audiology taught me to value the stories behind every patient — especially from the older generation, whose lives are filled with experiences of migration, resilience, and family. Every conversation was an opportunity for connection. That skill — to listen deeply — is something I’ve carried into everything I do now.
Where do you see yourself in the next few years?
We live in an age of incredible opportunity — and also overwhelming noise. Everyone has a platform, everyone has advice, and information moves faster than we can process. That’s why, for me, the most important thing is to stay anchored in why I do what I do.
When you’re clear about your purpose, the distractions fade into the background. My purpose has always been to create stories that give others a voice — especially those who don’t think their story matters.
Looking ahead, my focus is on empowering more storytellers around the world to do what we’ve done here in Christchurch. That means building strong educational frameworks, developing SOPs that enable rather than restrict creativity, and forming a global network of chefs and filmmakers who can continue this mission.
It’s not about being the biggest name in storytelling. It’s about creating a movement that celebrates humanity — one story at a time.
What are your favourite memories from your time at UC?
One of my favourite memories is sitting on the 11th floor of the James Hight Library, surrounded by the quiet hum of concentration. I’d look out over the flat Canterbury landscape, watching birds cross the skyline as I prepared for my next audiology exam.
It was often stressful, but in those moments of stillness, there was also peace — a sense of belonging and momentum. I knew that I was part of something bigger: a community of teachers, peers, and friends who genuinely wanted each other to succeed.
University life isn’t easy, and there are times when the workload feels relentless. But if you stay grounded in your why — that deeper reason you started in the first place — everything begins to make sense. UC gave me not just knowledge, but perspective.
