Residents of declining northern Manitoba town under provincial administration want bigger say in their future

Elizabeth Charrier says residents in Leaf Rapids have gotten really good at helping each other because they have to — but that it shouldn’t have to be that way.

The northern Manitoba town currently has no mayor or town council, and has faced a series of mounting problems since a mine — its main economic driver — closed in 2022.

Most recently, Leaf Rapids — about 750 kilometres from Winnipeg — and nearby communities were left without power for three days in late November. Some elderly residents had no way to keep themselves warm. With no backup generator, the water plant shut down.

“All the houses had no water, and people weren’t prepared for it,” Charrier said. “There’s no emergency committee. There was nobody organizing to really try and guide anybody.

“It just becomes frustrating when you don’t know who to go to or where to seek these things that you need.”

The town’s council was dissolved in 2019, after resignations left it unable to meet quorum.

In 2023, its administration fell to the provincially appointed Way to Go Consulting, after a contract with another firm that had been administering the town ended.

The turnover happened shortly after residents were ordered to evacuate the town because of wildfires, causing issues with co-ordinating support during the emergency.

Ervin Bighetty, Leaf Rapids’ last mayor, said the people in charge should have learned their lesson then.

“We shouldn’t have to wait until somebody dies or there’s a crisis before we start to think, ‘Oh, we should do something for Leaf Rapids’ people,'” he said.

It’s been more than two decades since Leaf Rapids — once touted as a model for mining towns elsewhere in Canada — lost its main economic engine with the closure of the Ruttan Mine in 2002.

Problems in the community have piled up since then. 

A boil water advisory from 2013 is still in place. Community engagement sessions done by University of Manitoba students earlier this year found residents had concerns that include a lack of housing, rampant crime — including arson and vandalism — and the state of the town’s infrastructure, with several facilities, such as the local airport, in need of repairs or closed.

The town’s population has fallen from just over 1,300 in 2001 to about 350 in 2021.

“If you grew up here and you want to raise your kids here, it’s almost becoming impossible,” Charrier said. “My plan was to raise my kids here, but if things continue the way it is, I don’t know if we can.”

‘Can’t just make decisions … in a video chat room’

Paul Hogan, who lives in the community, was appointed as its chief administrative officer last month. But residents say saving the town starts with them having a bigger say.

“Anybody who’s the CAO still has somebody to answer to, so they can’t … make any decisions without approval,” Bighetty said.

“There’s a number of things that … are slowly being done. But you know, they need to be done.”

The founding partners of Way To Go, Dale Lyle and Ernie Epp, live outside the community, though Epp once served as its mayor.

Bighetty said that means the people in charge of administration in Leaf Rapids don’t have enough of a stake in the town.

“If you guys want to be involved with us, you can’t just make decisions online in a video chat room,” he said. “The community is the ones who’s going to be affected by any decision you guys make.”

Way to Go deferred to the province when asked for comment. A provincial spokesperson said the Manitoba government is working with the CAO and other staff in the community, and will continue to consult with the community going forward.

First Nations leadership and Manitoba Keewatinowi Okimakanak, the advocacy group that represents First Nations in northern Manitoba, are in discussions with the federal government about potentially turning Leaf Rapids into an Indigenous reserve.

The U of Manitoba report, done on behalf of MKO, found residents want more information on what that would look like, and more community involvement in the process.

People from Granville Lake, who also go by Pickerel Narrows First Nation, have a significant presence in the town, but are not formally in the negotiations, the report said.

The people and community of Granville Lake are currently governed under Mathias Colomb Cree Nation, but are fighting to be recognized with First Nation status by the federal government.

MKO declined to comment.

No one to ‘pick up the ball’

Longtime Leaf Rapids resident Dennis Anderson said talks have been going on with governments and other organizations for years about solutions, including the possibility of turning Leaf Rapids into an urban reserve, but they’ve fallen by the wayside.

“With the state of Leaf Rapids, I don’t think anybody really wants to put their name on it or pick up the ball, when everything is failing around it,” he said.

“There’s no economic base, there’s no community income.… Everything is in disrepair. We’ve been totally ignored by government, for sure.”

Bighetty and Anderson said MKO had also previously floated the idea of residents of the town being moved elsewhere.

Resident Bianca Dionne said she doesn’t want to leave her home town, but the situation is dire.

Her 70-year-old mom, Berna, has been left without blood pressure medication — usually delivered to Leaf Rapids by mail — because of the Canada Post strike. Residents have resorted to picking up and delivering medicine to seniors themselves, she said.

The U of M report said the town hasn’t had a medical van to take residents to Thompson, the nearest large urban centre, for medical appointments since the pandemic, and that nurses can only provide limited services.

Leaf Rapids has a health centre, but it’s closed in the evening. When it is, ambulances take patients to Lynn Lake, a more than 100-kilometre drive, with no return service.

People in Leaf Rapids “still have hope that the town would still thrive,” Bianca Dionne said.

“[But with] all this stuff happening, do we have a choice?”