As the sun blazes down on the remote Aboriginal community of Ltyentye Apurte, sisters Camilla and Leonie Young sit in their front yard and watch the world go by.

It's cool in the shade, and grandchildren weave around them, giggling, chattering and playing with sticks from the tall hedge surrounding the yard.

As six-year-old Shaleira Inkamala climbs onto Leonie's lap, she nestles quietly against her.

It's as if she senses her grandmother's sadness. 

"We are very sad, aren't we?" Leonie says, holding her granddaughter close.

"We were hoping for a Voice."

Days after the referendum, the Eastern Arrernte women still don't fully understand what the Indigenous Voice to Parliament was supposed to be.

But they hoped it might make things different in their community.

"We felt upset but we don't know the reason why we felt upset, you know?" Camilla says.

"We vote in federal elections – and what changes? We vote for Labor and Liberal and we still get nothing, you know.

"How long do we have to wait for change?"

Desperate not to be forgotten

Ltyentye Apurte – also known as Santa Teresa – is an Aboriginal community of about 600 people, located 85 kilometres south-east of Alice Springs.

It was once a Catholic mission, and a large white cross sits atop the vast surrounding ranges.

In recent months, this has been one of many Indigenous communities across Australia that has been central in debates around the Voice.

Politicians and campaigners have repeatedly highlighted the extreme levels of poverty and disadvantage in these remote areas.

Residents have long been calling for better housing, healthcare, employment opportunities and access to safe drinking water.

And the Yes campaign promised the Voice would help bring change.

For these communities, it was another promise they hoped would ring true.

Now the Voice has been voted down, they're desperate to not be forgotten.

Housing a key issue

Down the road from Camilla and Leonie lives their sister and niece, Annie and Annalisa Young.

Sitting in their front yard, they wave to cars as they pass by, calling hello and goodbye to the stream of family members that come and go from the house.

Asked about the main issues in their community, the women instantly point to housing.

"The struggle in my community is overcrowding," Annie says.

"It's been there for years, and still going."

The Ltyentye Apurte community is filled with two-bedroom houses built in the 1970s, which Annie says are more suited to "young couples than big families".

At times, there can be up to 20 people living in one of these tiny homes.

Annalisa said the inadequate housing situation was having serious flow-on effects.

"Kids aren't eating because there's other adults to feed. And there's more people coming in and out. It's really hard to store food," she said.

"It leads to health problems as well because some people are forced to camp on the verandah. Some people with chronic illnesses are forced to live in these old houses.

"And there's fighting when people get stressed out."

Poor housing impacts next generation

Annalisa says overcrowded housing can also affect employment.

"If there's a lot of people living in a house, one person might say, 'why should I go to work when others are staying home and doing nothing, and provide for everyone else in the house?'" she says.

Meanwhile, Annie says the housing shortage means young people in the community are forced to continue living with their parents.

"They need their own houses, to grow their own families up. Better living for them, for the future," she says.

"And jobs is another big issue. Because in my community, there's no jobs at all.

"There used to be jobs in my community, but the [NT] Intervention came and took it all away. Now young people are just living on Centrelink payment."

Residents have also been pleading for years for the "dusty, heavily corrugated" roads around the community to be upgraded.

"I've had two four-wheel-drives that this road chewed up, and I spent more than what I've paid for those cars to fix them," Annalisa says.

Over the Christmas period, the roads are often cut off by flooding.

"Our store runs out of food and then then it's hard to get the truck to come back out with food," Annalisa says.

"It really puts a strain on our health service for people going into town three, four times a week for dialysis."

Fight for change continues

After the referendum outcome on the weekend, Leonie and Camilla have a weariness in their eyes.

While the Voice was confusing to them, they had maintained hope that just maybe, change was on the horizon.

"Government really needs to listen to us in communities – what we need, what's best for us now and for the future of our generations," Camilla says.

"They need to come live out here. See how it feels."

Annalisa, who is a mum of four, hopes by the time her children are grown, things will be different in Ltyentye Apurte.

"I don't want my youngest ones talking about the things that I'm talking about now, you know, trying to change same things in the next 10 or 15 years," she said.

"But who knows when we're gonna get another chance to be recognised and have our voice finally heard?"