Camilo, Kamiyah and Julio
Content Warning: These stories are about violence, abuse, neglect and exploitation and may include references to suicide or self-harming behaviours. They may contain graphic descriptions and strong language and may be distressing. Some narratives may be about First Nations people who have passed away. If you need support, please see Contact & support.
Kamiyah and Julio are the parents of Camilo, who’s in his 30s. He is autistic and has intellectual disability. The family lives in a regional city.
Kamiyah was born in Thailand.
‘The Thai culture very strong, respectful and never like to complain, and always appreciate anything people have done for us,’ Kamiyah told the Royal Commission. ‘But from the past many years, I never want to complain. But then I start to learn to complain.’
Camilo’s experience at school was positive, but after leaving school his behaviour deteriorated. Camilo is often lonely and isolated. Julio said his son’s service provider doesn’t help him learn social skills.
‘Basically, they get driven round town on their own, driven to places and then lunch and then afternoon tea, and then more driving around town.’
Kamiyah said the service provider does not provide a safe environment. One time, Camilo ran away from his care facility and was returned in a police van.
‘They haven't got any fence. It should be maximum concern first for this many people … They frighten us a lot.’
Camilo’s support workers are poorly trained. ‘They always take advantage and ignore us,’ Kamiyah said. ‘They should do the best for our family. That [is] what we need.’
Camilo’s frustration at not being able to express himself has led to him self-harming and becoming more aggressive. Julio said he’s not been able to find a specialist doctor in the city to treat his son’s autism.
‘I did speak to my GP about would he look after [Camilo] as well. So basically he said because [Camilo] is so aggressive, he said if [we] wanted him to see [Camilo], he had to see him outside in the car park.’
Kamiyah worries that the family’s difficulty with English means they are not advocating as well as they could for Camilo. When Camilo was injured in care, for example, she said she didn’t know why no-one could help them or who to turn to.
‘Sometimes you think, oh, it's something wrong with our English, but later on I don’t think I made clear, but … that is very difficult for us, yeah. And may I add … we don't know where to go to. We don't know the people to approach … to do something, you know, where to start.’
Disclaimer: This is the story of a person who shared their personal experience with the Royal Commission into Violence, Abuse, Neglect and Exploitation of People with Disability through a submission or private session. The names in this story are pseudonyms. The person who shared this experience was not a witness and their account is not evidence. They did not take an oath or affirmation before providing the story. Nothing in this story constitutes a finding of the Royal Commission. Any views expressed are those of the person who shared their experience, not of the Royal Commission.