Whangārei Butter Factory staff face thousands in lost wages after liquidation

Eleven employees face significant financial loss, with individual wage arrears ranging around $5,500 each in unpaid wages, annual leave, and holiday pay.
They learned about losing their jobs through a group message
The Butter Factory's eleven employees discovered the venue's closure and their unemployment via text from the venue manager.
Mark

Why did this venue fail so quickly under new ownership? It seems like the licensing issues were the main problem.

Mimi

The licensing was certainly part of it, but a former worker suggested the real issue was management. After an experienced manager left, the new one couldn't make decisions without the owners, and the owners weren't around to be asked. That kind of operational breakdown matters more than licensing restrictions.

Luke

But we should be careful here—that's one worker's account, and she's anonymous. The owners say they were hands-on and held weekly meetings. We don't have independent verification of what the management structure actually was.

Mark

Fair point. So what about the money owed to staff? Is there any realistic chance they'll recover it?

Mimi

The liquidator's report shows the company owed Inland Revenue $171,000 in PAYE and GST alone, plus $277,000 in income tax, plus debts to multiple other creditors. The employees are preferential creditors, which sounds good, but a secured creditor already claimed all the physical assets—stock, equipment, everything.

Luke

Which means there's likely very little left to distribute. The preferential status helps, but only if there's money in the pool. Right now it looks like there isn't much.

Mark

So the workers are probably going to lose most or all of what they're owed?

Mimi

That's the likely outcome, yes. Which is why the liquidator's investigation matters—if he finds that transactions were made while the company was insolvent, or if there were deliberate breaches of employment law, that could open other avenues for recovery.

Luke

But that's speculative. The investigation doesn't conclude until February 2027. For now, these eleven people are out thousands of dollars each with no clear path to getting it back.

Mark

And they found out through a group message.

Mimi

Yes. That detail says something about how the relationship between ownership and staff had deteriorated by the end.

  • Eleven employees discovered they had lost both their jobs and thousands of dollars in unpaid wages through a single group message — an ending as abrupt as it was impersonal.
  • Police, health authorities, and the public repeatedly blocked the owners' licence renewal and extended trading hours, citing 520 recorded incidents in the surrounding area over just nine months.
  • Beneath the licensing battles, the venue was quietly unravelling — experienced staff left, replacements lacked authority, contractors went unpaid, and the remaining workers absorbed the growing strain.
  • The operating company now owes Inland Revenue nearly $450,000 in unpaid taxes and loans, with secured creditors ahead of workers in the queue despite employees holding preferential creditor status.
  • A liquidator investigation into potential Companies Act breaches and insolvency transactions is underway, but the next report isn't due until February 2027 — leaving workers in a prolonged and uncertain wait.

In Whangārei, the closure of the Butter Factory nightclub has left eleven workers without wages they were owed, their livelihoods dissolved in a group message — a small but telling parable of what happens when ambition, regulatory resistance, and financial fragility converge in the hospitality trade. The venue's new owners, Kaur and Singh, inherited a troubled address and found themselves unable to secure the trading conditions they believed would make survival possible. Now a liquidator picks through the wreckage, and the workers who carried the heaviest load wait the longest for answers.

When the Butter Factory nightclub in Whangārei finally closed, its eleven staff members found out through a group message. Each faced losses of around $5,500 in unpaid wages, annual leave, and holiday pay — a financial blow delivered without ceremony.

The venue had changed hands in late 2024 when Kaur and Singh took over, stepping into a location already burdened by its surroundings. In the nine months before their arrival, police had logged 520 incidents in Butter Factory Lane and nearby Laurie Hall Park — fighting, liquor ban breaches, public disorder. When the new owners sought to renew their on-licence, police cited their inexperience with high-risk venues. Health authorities, the council's licensing inspector, and members of the public agreed. A subsequent application to extend trading hours to 2am — which the owners described as their last viable path to profitability — was refused on similar grounds.

Inside the venue, the situation was deteriorating independently of the licensing battles. A capable manager had departed and their replacement lacked the authority to make decisions. The owners were often unreachable. Contractors left after payments arrived late, and the remaining staff absorbed the extra weight. Kaur and Singh offered their own account: they were working hard to keep things alive, with Kaur herself taking over kitchen duties after all kitchen staff left. They attributed many of the venue's problems to events that predated their ownership or occurred outside their walls, and described communication failures rather than deliberate wrongdoing as the source of employment disputes.

The formal aftermath now rests with liquidator Pritesh Patel. The operating entity, Punjab to NZ Group, owes Inland Revenue approximately $448,000 across unpaid PAYE, GST, income tax, and a small business loan. A General Security Agreement held by Revell and Reid Group gives that creditor first claim on remaining assets. The eleven workers, classified as preferential creditors, sit ahead of most — but behind the secured interests. Patel's investigation will examine potential Companies Act breaches and whether transactions occurred while the company was already insolvent. His next report is due in February 2027, meaning those who learned of their redundancy by text message must now wait months more to learn whether anything remains to be recovered.

The Butter Factory in Whangārei closed its doors this year, and when it did, the eleven people who worked there learned about it the same way most bad news travels now—through a group message from the venue manager. Each of them stood to lose thousands of dollars in unpaid wages, annual leave, and holiday pay. For some, like one former employee who spoke anonymously, the figure was at least $5,500. Most of the other staff faced similar shortfalls.

The venue had changed hands in late 2024 when Kaur and Singh took over. Almost immediately, they ran into trouble with the authorities. In the nine months before the new owners arrived, police had recorded 520 incidents in Butter Factory Lane and the nearby Laurie Hall Park—breaches of liquor bans, public urination, vomiting, fighting. When Kaur and Singh applied to renew the on-licence, police opposed it, citing their lack of experience running a high-risk venue. The Ministry of Health, the Whangārei District Council licensing inspector, and four members of the public sided with police.

The owners believed their path to profitability lay in extending trading hours from 1am to 2am. They applied for that extension this year. Again, police, health officials, the council inspector, and members of the public objected. The reasons were familiar: fights breaking out, alcohol being taken off the premises, an intoxicated woman being carried out by friends. The application was refused. Kaur and Singh said the extended hours were their last chance to make the business work.

But the problems ran deeper than licensing. A former worker, speaking on condition of anonymity to the Northern Advocate, described a venue that had lost its footing operationally. An experienced manager had left. The person who replaced them lacked authority to make decisions, while the owners were often unavailable to answer questions. Contractors and casual workers departed because they weren't paid on time, which meant the remaining staff carried an ever-heavier load. When the venue finally closed, staff learned about it through that group message—a final punctuation mark on what had become a fractured relationship between ownership and workers.

Kaur and Singh offered a different account. They said they were doing everything they could to keep the business alive, with Kaur herself working full-time in the kitchen after all the kitchen staff left. Many of the problems that had given the venue its reputation, they argued, had occurred before they took over or happened outside the venue's walls. They acknowledged that staff would be upset about losing their jobs and said they had held weekly management meetings. On the question of unpaid contractors, they denied the allegation but acknowledged they couldn't afford to pay DJs on the night they performed, though payment came a few days later. They were also in a settlement process with a former worker who had taken them to mediation over alleged breaches of employment law, which they attributed to poor communication rather than deliberate wrongdoing.

The liquidator, Pritesh Patel of Patel and Co, has begun the formal work of untangling what happened. The eleven employees are classified as preferential creditors, meaning they stand ahead of most others in line to recover what they're owed. But that ranking may offer little comfort. A company called Revell and Reid Group held a General Security Agreement, which gave it first claim on all stock, plant, and equipment after closure. The initial liquidation report revealed that Punjab to NZ Group, the operating entity, owed Inland Revenue $171,000 in core PAYE and GST, plus another $277,000 in income tax and a small business loan. Other secured creditors—DB Breweries, BOC Gas, Federal Merchants, and Bizcap—were also owed money, though the amounts weren't detailed in the preliminary filing.

Patel's investigation will examine whether the company breached the Companies Act, including whether transactions were made while the business was technically insolvent. Employment law breaches are also on his agenda. The next report is due in February 2027, which means the workers who learned about their job loss through a text message will wait months to learn whether there's anything left to recover.

Extending opening hours to 2am was the business' last chance to make a profit
— Kaur and Singh, the venue's owners
A former worker said the new owners could have turned it around if they were more hands-on, but after an experienced manager left, the replacement lacked authority to make decisions while owners were unavailable
— Anonymous former Butter Factory employee
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