In the shadow of shrinking towns
In Victoria’s rural north‑west, the Yarriambiack Shire is a study in contraction. Across its 15 towns, from Brim to Warracknabeal, the population has been slipping for two decades. The region’s story is not just about numbers; it’s about how communities fight to keep their lifeblood—sport, schools, pubs, and the social fabric that binds towns together.
A town carved by its past
Brim stands out for how history is embedded in everyday life. Footpaths hide brick memorials to clubs and locals lost to time, and the town’s key institutions—its primary school, its football club, churches, and a once‑bustling infant welfare centre—now echo with memories more than action. Opened in 1890, Brim Primary School is gone, its site marked by a lone sign amid gum trees. The Brim Football Club, formed just after the school, merged with Warracknabeal in 2001 as numbers dwindled. The oval and netball courts remain, but the town’s pulse has slowed to a grazing beat.
Numbers tell a stubborn tale
Between 2006 and 2021, Brim’s population halved in effect as the wider Yarriambiack SA2 shrank by about 22.6 per cent from 8,114 to 6,283 people. That contraction mirrors a national rural reality: fewer farms, fewer families, and an aging population. The region’s crown jewel is Warracknabeal, the largest town, which has seen its own population dip according to census counts. Experts say natural decrease (deaths outpacing births) combined with ongoing net migration losses create an inexorable drift away from regional towns unless there is a bold investment or transformative opportunity.
Sports as a social glue
To locals, football and netball are more than games; they are the social engine of country life. Mick Gunn, a Brim stalwart who later presided over the merged Warracknabeal club, recalls the daily logic of rural sport: “Football or netball in country towns is everything.” The Brim Eagles’ incorporation into the Warracknabeal Lions in 2001 illustrated the tough choice many communities face when numbers pull in opposite directions. Netball, too, serves as a crucial gathering point for families and farmers who need a space to connect beyond the harvest and weather chatter.
Communities pulling together
As demographics shift, residents lean into mutual aid. Warracknabeal’s mayor, Kylie Zanker, describes a culture of neighbourliness where packages and help arrive unbidden in times of need. “If you don’t use it, you’ll lose it,” she says, underscoring a regional mantra: maintain institutions, invest in people, and keep the social fabric from fraying. Local pubs have become rare, but the remaining venues still stand as bulwarks against isolation, hosting everything from gardening clubs to charity drives.
A region with a future in its hands
Yarriambiack is not just a statistic; it is a living mosaic of land use, family histories, and stubborn resilience. The region’s fields—grains and sheep stitched into a patchwork landscape—sit under a sky that has witnessed keen cycles of drought and relief. The iconic Brim silo art by Guido van Helten captures the old‑meets‑new energy: a multi‑generational quartet of farmers standing tall against the plain, a symbol of continuity amid change.
Conclusion: holding the line
Population decline in regional Australia is a collective challenge, not a single town’s problem. Yarriambiack’s response—community cohesion, adaptive clubs, and civic leadership—offers a blueprint for rural resilience. The question remains: can the next generation be drawn back to these towns, or will we see another wave of consolidation and closure? In Yarriambiack, the answer will be written in the daily acts of care, the longevity of clubs, and the stubborn pride of people who refuse to let their home vanish from the map.
