Keilani and Min
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.
Keilani was born overseas. She had missed development milestones and when she started school was still using nappies.
Keilani was diagnosed at school with global intellectual disability, and from that point the school communicated directly with government agencies and coordinated speech therapy, occupational therapy and physiotherapy. Her mother, Min, told the Royal Commission she didn’t need to do anything. There was no application process and no need for independent assessments.
Then the family moved to Australia. Following a natural disaster in their home country, Min’s husband sought a ‘bright future’ for them here.
Min found it very difficult to navigate the education system in Australia, and there was no-one to support her or advocate for her.
The local state school placed Keilani in year 4 because of her age. Min asked them to place her in a lower grade because she thought Keilani would struggle. The school refused.
After a few months, the vice principal told Min that Keilani needed to go to a special needs school. Min wanted her to stay in mainstream education and begged the school to provide more support.
Min discovered she had to apply for disability supports. But Keilani wasn’t eligible for the state’s disability program because of the family’s visa status.
Everyone kept telling Min things would improve when the NDIS was established.
‘When you go on the NDIS, [Keilani] is going to receive funding. You’re actually going to be able to get access to support you need,’ they said.
So it was a shock to Min when the NDIA refused support.
‘No we can’t pay,’ the NDIA said. ‘Because you are not a citizen of Australia, you can’t have the caring you need.’
No-one told Min she could access other supports.
Without support, Keilani was excluded from education. Most days the teacher made her sit outside the principal’s office.
‘She developed these bad behaviours of throwing things around, not verbalising.’
Her socialisation and learning skills rapidly deteriorated.
Keilani is a good visual learner, but the school continued to use traditional teaching methods and refused to include disability inclusive strategies.
After two years Keilani left the school and moved to a religious school. But it was no better, and she had similar negative experiences.
Keilani’s behaviour has continued to regress. She frequently slaps family members and support workers.
‘[Keilani]’s potential is gone – I can’t bring it back.’
Keilani is now in her final year of secondary school.
‘My daughter is neglected. I don’t want it to happen to any daughters or any kids. My daughter need to socialise. I’m begging for nearly 10 years, my daughter need friends. My daughter need friends. She hasn’t got any friends.’
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.