After years of bitter debate, the sale of Blue Haven Bonaira is set to go ahead on 25 February.

For some, it is the long-awaited solution to Kiama Council’s financial troubles.

For others, it is something much deeper. It is an irreversible loss, a breaking of trust, a reminder that the community’s voice was not enough to hold onto something that was once a source of pride.

From the beginning, the decision to sell Blue Haven Bonaira has divided Kiama. Former mayors, union leaders, and residents fought to keep it in community hands, arguing that its value could never be measured in dollar terms. 

Council, burdened by mounting debt, insisted there was no other way.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, past councillors and staff found themselves at the centre of a storm, subjected to relentless blame and public scrutiny.

Some simply walked away, others stayed to weather the fallout, but all of them have carried the weight of a community fractured by a decision they either made or were left to defend.

For the families of Blue Haven Bonaira residents, this has never just been about finances.

It has been about the uncertainty that comes with change, the fear that care will become just another business transaction, and the feeling that a promise made to the elderly of this town has been broken.

Staff, many of whom have spent decades looking after those in their care, now face an unknown future, with questions about job security and whether the values that built Blue Haven Bonaira will survive under new ownership.

Beyond the paperwork, the balance sheets, and the town hall meetings, Blue Haven Bonaira was always about people.

The residents who called it home, the nurses and carers who knew their stories, the families who trusted that their loved ones would be looked after with dignity and kindness.

It was a part of Kiama’s soul, built on a belief that aged care could be done differently, that community mattered more than profit.

Now, as the final pieces fall into place, there is an overwhelming sense that something has been lost, not just a facility, but a vision, a commitment, a connection to who we are as a town.

The sale may bring financial relief, but at what cost? For those who fought to keep it, the answer is already clear.

This is not just about a building changing hands. It is about the people who will carry this loss long after the ink has dried.