Evidence building against the state and faith-based institutions alleging a cover up

Friday, 1 November 2019

Karisma Emery, 17 talks about how state care failed for her.

ANALYSIS: Damning evidence is growing against the state and faith-based institutions who allegedly knew abuse was happening to children inside their facilities, including foster homes, but refused to act.

Many expert witnesses have gone so far as to allege it was a cover up, providing evidence to the Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care to back up their claims.

Former government ministers, politicians, religious leaders, government departments, medical professionals, police and staff are being named or called out for their roles in refusing to act earlier on past claims of abuse, neglect and harm against thousands of children.

Karisma Emery, 17, shared the horrific story of her life in state care at the Whānau Ora - Māori Inquiry into Oranga Tamariki in Hamilton on Monday.

By setting up the Royal Commission of Inquiry the Government has already acknowledged abuse occurred, but it wants to know to what extent the abuse happened and how.

Under examination are state and religious-based care over a 40 year period from January 1, 1950 to 31 December 1999. It has been estimated over 100,000 children, young people and vulnerable adults were removed from their homes and placed in care during that time.

* More than 220 children abused in Oranga Tamariki care in 2018

* We finally know the true extent of abuse in state care. It is shocking

* State care abuse not just 'historical', inquiry told

* Abuse Inquiry: Māori babies adopted to white families**

The inquiry will consider the experiences, factors leading to abuse and the impact of it. It will also look at why kids were removed and placed into care. What was done about abuse in the past, currently, and what needs to be done in the future. Finally, any redress or rehabilitation processes that may be required.

It's just days into its contextual hearings currently being held in Auckland, and already a clear, condemning picture is emerging.

In spite of the dry, perfunctory deliberations of the inquiry itself, the witnesses are providing quiet, sometimes emotive evidence. Many check themselves as tears appear and their voices quiver. At these times the large white room filled with the public, lawyers, media, admin staff and commissioners respectfully quietens.

The Royal Commission of Inquiry is hearing detailed evidence of abuse as claims of a cover up are leveled against the state and religious institutions

The public section is filled with advocates, family support and former wards who nod their heads or mutter in disgust. Some leave when explosive, sensational information is detailed. Support staff are on hand to help those who may be affected by what is said.

On one occasion, the public broke convention by giving Dr Oliver Sutherland a standing ovation, standing and clapping loudly when he finished giving his evidence.

During the 1970s and 80s, Sutherland went public with the wrongs committed by the state against children, especially tamariki Māori.

He told the Commission about documenting evidence back then of kids being locked into small cells for 23 hours a day, young girls forcibly given vaginal checks, strip searches, beatings by staff, and fight club-type matches as punishment.

Boys were held in adult remand centres, forced to mix and shower with men.

One child had an electric helmet attached to his penis to shock him into stopping his bed wetting. At the notorious Lake Alice facility, kids were given ECT or shock therapy as punishment by medical personnel.

The Royal Commission of Inquiry is listening to experts and people who were in care to understand abuse in state care and faith-based institutions

The Commission is being repeatedly told that in the past, when a grievance or allegation was made against staff or a facility by children or adult advocates, it was almost always quashed or they were called liars.

Those advocates, including Sutherland, are being heard now. Add their evidence to the hundreds of testimonies gathered from former wards of the state and those placed in religious institutions - and it's incriminating.

One of the first witnesses, Judge Carolyn Henwood chaired the Confidential Listening and Assistance Service for seven years before it was shut down. More than 1100 former state wards shared their experiences behind closed doors.

Henwood says the scope of the service should have been wider to hold people to account. But she believed it was purposefully limited because a class action from former kids in care was going through the High Court.

When the service closed, Henwood wanted a public statement made by the Government about what occurred in state care but it never happened.

When Judge Carolyn Henwood chaired the Confidential Listening and Assistance Service, she did not think an independent inquiry into state care abuse was needed. Now she's cautioned the Royal Commission about accountability.

She says there was never any accountability from the Government and it will be the biggest challenge for the Commission.

'In my experience, every time accountability comes up, they say we've got this, we're onto it, and then over time it diminishes down to nothing,' says Henwood.

One man sitting in the public section was mentioned during Sutherland's evidence.

Hake Halo had been held at Lake Alice when he was 13 years old. He was given eight electric shock treatments while he was there. It was given to him by medical staff, without informed consent, as punishment says Sutherland.

Sir Kim Workman, a justice reform advocate is angry at the state for the harm caused to children in care. But he also feels guilt because he didn't do anything to stop it when he was a policeman.

His family had no idea what was happening to him at the time. It was the experience of many children who were sent to Lake Alice from other care institutions. Sutherland says ECT were sometimes given without anaesthesia.

In 1999 a class action was launched, the claimants including Halo received a payout and Helen Clark offered a public apology. But because of the trauma he suffered, Halo has been living on an invalids benefit for many years.

When Sutherland spoke about what happened to Halo at Lake Alice, he became emotional and paused. Halo is now in his late 50s and is in disbelief his case is still being discussed in a government inquiry.

He says, 'I thought this was all over. Why is this still going?'

Sir Kim Workman has worked in the justice sector for decades including as a police officer. The Commission is also looking at police abuse of people while in custody.

Sir Kim Workman says the abuse at Kohitere, a now closed youth facility near Levin, was widely known.

'Yes, I know that there was abuse, individual cases of abuse,' says Workman. He went on to say there wasn't just a few bad apples in the basket but a culture of continual harassment, especially of Māori youth.

'I really didn't realise until that time that what we were doing as individual police officers and social welfare workers was contributing to a situation of institutional racism,' says Workman.

While he was a youth aid officer in the early 70s he often visited Kohitere, a now closed youth facility near Levin, to work with teenage boys.

He says the abuse at Kohitere was widely known. It had a secured unit for protection but was instead used for punishment. Workman says the psychological impact would have been extremely damaging.

There was a lot of bullying amongst the boys and staff admitted to hitting them says Workman. Kids who had committed minor crimes were being mixed with violent offenders.

Workman says he was angry the state could allow such an environment to exist.

'The conditions were so inhumane that they were almost guaranteed to turn vulnerable children and youth into distrusting and sometimes dangerous adults.'

Many of the experts including Workman say state care and religious institutions did not reduce youth crime. Instead it was a pipeline to adult prison that successive governments were aware of then and now.

'In later years, I thought about why I didn't do more to address the situation, to blow the whistle, report on what I knew and call for an investigation,' says Workman.

He told the inquiry he felt guilt for not speaking out. On later reflection, Workman says he was probably no different from most police officers and public servants at the time, young, ambitious and not prepared to jeopardise their future for speaking out.