A movement built around kitchen tables, now mired in mortgages

Tashi Farmilo

Fifty years ago, the Native Women’s Association of Canada (NWAC) was forged from necessity and resistance. Indigenous women, excluded from policy-making and political leadership, came together to challenge legal discrimination, systemic poverty and colonial violence. They travelled long distances to meet, borrowing cars, baking bannock, and bringing children along. What began around kitchen tables grew into a national voice for Indigenous women, grounded in the principle that they must speak for themselves.

In 2025, that voice is quieter, weighed down by debt, layoffs and internal review. NWAC is now selling its $8-million Gatineau headquarters, divesting cultural properties, and cooperating with a federal audit covering fiscal years 2018 to 2024. In a statement released July 15, NWAC acknowledged “serious and significant financial irregularities” uncovered by current management. An internal review of past contracts is underway, and all unprofitable business ventures have been shut down. The organization says it is returning to its “foundational values.”

The Gatineau building, purchased in 2018, was mortgaged three times: first for $1.8 million, then $5.9 million in 2020, and finally $7.5 million in 2022, according to records reviewed by CBC News and APTN. Renovated to include a café, gallery and meeting space, it was part of an “own-source revenue” strategy designed to reduce reliance on federal funding. But by July 2025, CBC reported the property was being offloaded amid a soft commercial real estate market.

NWAC also invested in properties in Chelsea and Gagetown, New Brunswick, where it planned to operate Resiliency Lodges—healing centres for Indigenous women and gender-diverse people. APTN reported both sites are now being sold or handed over to Indigenous partners. The Chelsea property is being repaired ahead of sale. In Gagetown, NWAC issued a tender seeking a new Indigenous organization to manage or potentially take ownership of the property.

NWAC’s financial statements show rapid expansion. Its 2023 audit, published on its website, shows assets rising from $15.9 million in 2022 to nearly $42 million in 2023, fuelled by federal grants and deferred revenue. That year, grant income alone topped $21.7 million. However, debt also grew—reaching $6.3 million, much of it linked to mortgages. The auditor issued a qualified opinion, flagging issues including the misclassification of capital assets and incomplete donation records.

This financial and infrastructural growth did not bring stability. APTN reported NWAC laid off 75 employees in 2024 after federal funding dropped from $48 million to $10 million. Around the same time, former CEO Lynne Groulx departed, and several provincial affiliates were expelled amid internal conflict.

Public criticism followed. CBC and APTN documented frustration from grassroots advocates who felt NWAC had become disconnected from its base. APTN also reported that in May 2025, Wolastoqey Elder Alma Brooks wrote to federal and provincial officials raising concerns about NWAC’s handling of its cultural lodges. She said the sudden shutdown of the Gagetown facility—without consultation—breached community trust and failed to honour its publicly funded purpose.

These recent chapters mark a sharp turn from NWAC’s original story. In its 50th anniversary magazine, NWAC recounts its beginnings: women raising funds through bake sales, organising letter-writing campaigns, and fighting to have their voices heard by a federal government that rarely listened. They worked without capital, but with resolve.

Today, as NWAC sheds its buildings and re-evaluates its finances, it says it is trying to return to that core. Whether it can restore the trust of the women and communities it was built to represent remains uncertain. The infrastructure may be going—but the question is whether the foundation still stands.