Rebecca Papalii, 55, was deported to New Zealand in 2015 after serving a sentence for the torture and murder of an Australian boy.

You might never guess Rebecca Papalii's background - but she's happy to tell you about it anyway.

The 55-year-old cuts a glamorous figure in the otherwise unremarkable Northland town of Kaikohe, her smiling face and warm nature prompting a stranger to embrace her.

"I know you," the woman says, hunching over to kiss Papalii on the cheek at a cafe. "But I don't know why. I'll say hello anyway."

DAVID WHITE/STUFF Papalii as she looked shortly after her arrival back in New Zealand in January 2015.

When Papalii arrived in Kaikohe more than two years ago, her presence caused a ripple in the town. Now, you could say she is part of the furniture.

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BAYLEY MOOR/STUFF Papalii has opened a hair salon in the corner of a second-hand shop in Kaikohe.

Stuff broke the news of her deportation to New Zealand in January 2015, having served a lengthy sentence for the kidnapping, torture, and murder of Australian child Cleon Jackman in Perth.

Cleon was 14 when he was targeted by Papalii and her friends Derrin Bardsley and James Stapleton after Papalii alleged the teenager had been harassing her.

Over five hours Jackman was tied, tortured, and eventually killed.

Papalii was sentenced to 17.5 years in prison, later reduced on appeal. After being paroled, she was immediately sent back to New Zealand.

Papalii was one of the last to arrive under a regime where deportees with convictions weren't monitored by New Zealand authorities despite their Australian crimes, and information sharing between the two countries was lacking.

In late 2014 Australia had changed its laws, lowering the threshold for visa cancellation, seeing hundreds of deportees flood into New Zealand ever since. Figures show around a third have reoffended.

Mere months after Papalii's arrival the law changed and paroled deportees are now monitored and subject to police checks.

Papalii said her initial return to New Zealand and the ensuing fracas was "awful", but recalls a recent defining moment, after the town's policeman told her she had done well and was free from police gaze.

"Of course it was awful, but it had a good result. It's basically - I took the scab off the volcano. Once you lift the head off, everything comes off," she says.

"It's like a healing process. It's about making communities stronger. For me, there's no point running away."

Her family was particularly hurt by the publicity, but Papalii is philosophical - she believes telling her own story could help other convicts. Especially those who have been deported to New Zealand with nothing, or have been released from prison after lengthy stints.

Papalii is fortunate that her family has longstanding ties to Kaikohe, and she has been able to get on her feet again with their help.

Still, she acknowledges it's not been an easy road.

Her convictions have made it almost impossible to get a job. She has applied for hundreds, she says, and the stigma of her past makes it hard for some people to fully accept her.

"People always look for the smoke first. You can say, the facts are here, and they'll say, but the fire is over there."

She has nearly finished an automotive engineering course and receives a meagre weekly student allowance. The majority of that pays off her new Holden Commodore.

It's a nice car, and there's a reason - sometimes she sleeps in it when she travels looking for work.

For a while she lived in Auckland, but found it overwhelming, expensive, and crowded, and was particularly horrified at its underbelly methamphetamine scene.

She moved back to Kaikohe to be closer to her elderly mother and now lives with her family.

She's just opened a basic hair salon in the corner of a second-hand clothing store on Broadway, in Kaikohe, charging a modest fee for cuts, but also accepts food or goods in exchange for a new hairstyle.

"Mentally, I've changed a lot of cogs. I don't feel like I need to ask for permission any more to walk along these streets," she says.

"It's just something I need to deal with."

Te Tai Tokerau Maori Women's Welfare League president Mere Mangu said more wraparound services were needed for deportees and people straight out of jail, particularly accommodation.

She saw a lot of gaps in social support services, but said she was particularly impressed with how Papalii had integrated into the community, describing her as a role model.

Papalii had come to a league meeting and stood up and introduced herself, explaining her background.

"I think she's very brave," Mangu said. "So there was enough understanding by everybody as to who she was, which was a very good move.

"She didn't say that she was going to do it, she just got up and did it. I think she gained the respect of everybody straight away.

"There's been no backlash or anything. Quite the opposite. I think like everyone else, she's doing the best she can with what little resources she has."

Corrections acting national commissioner Rachel Leota said it had budgeted $300,000 over five years to put toward reintegration providers who helped deportees get a bank account, accommodation and an IRD number.

"Providing effective reintegration services for returning offenders is important because many don't have strong links to New Zealand," she said.

"Working with returning offenders to help them settle back into life in New Zealand, including helping with accommodation, employment, establishing bank accounts and working with other government agencies to allow access to benefits, etc, helps with the reintegration process."