Kehlani
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.
Kehlani, a First Nations woman with schizoaffective disorder and bipolar disorder, grew up on a remote mission.
‘I was abused by other mission kids,’ Kehlani told the Royal Commission. ‘It wasn't all bad … I got straight As in year 12. But I had no support from anyone for a long time. [And] I really wanted my mum.’
Kehlani married when she was ‘very young’.
‘My husband locked me up. I sort of feel like I’ve been locked up forever. All my life it feels like I’ve been fucking locked up, you know?’
After giving birth to a son, Kehlani developed postnatal depression and child protection officers took her son away.
‘They must have thought I was trying to hurt him or something. But I didn't have … anyone to support me. No-one. So I gave my son up to stay with someone else, you know. And that hurt me.’
After she lost her son and her mother died, Kehlani started drinking.
‘I've had these [disorders] since my baby, since my mum died. That's when it first happened.’
When she discovered her husband was abusing one of her children, she told a family member. Her family arranged to have her admitted to a mental health unit in a city hospital.
‘They put me on injections after a long time and it … made me like a zombie because I didn't have any feelings or thoughts. I never joined in with anyone. I never spoke to anyone.’
Kehlani said that after she left hospital, her family didn’t want her back.
‘I've been homeless for 10 years, walking the street, getting high on the junk just to stay awake so no-one don't touch me. I've never had a place to stay. I never had a home. I sleep on old men's couches. I sleep with old men just to get a bed, just to get a feed … This mental illness is my biggest fault in my life.’
Kehlani’s been sent to prison several times. When she spoke to the Royal Commission, she was in prison for stealing drugs.
‘They all know I've got a mental illness, but they still treat me really bad the officers, the prisoners and the [mental health staff] and everyone. And when I speak up they don't like it. Because I stick up for other prisoners as well, for Aboriginal girls who don't know how to [speak] full English.’
Kehlani said that one day, a prison officer ‘spoke nasty’ to a girl and ‘she went and hung herself’.
‘It maybe wasn't just because of that, it was an accumulation of things. But, you know, she is dead now that young girl.’
Kehlani said the psychiatrist she sees in prison ‘doesn’t listen’ to her problems.
‘Maybe she's teaching me how to regulate my emotions and shit. I've been doing that all my life. People swear at me to my face. I didn't swear at them.’
Kehlani said she’d like First Nations women in prison to receive more psychological support and education ‘because mental health is a very fine line’.
‘I would have been a lawyer or I would have been a doctor if people would have supported me in my lifetime. But I've just been chucked out on the outskirts, on the fringe.’
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.