Marita and Nicki
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.
When the department of child protection removed Nicki’s nephew and nieces from their parents, she and her partner, Marita, agreed to be kinship carers.
‘The parents have had a long history with substance abuse and family violence and just general neglect, not being able to care for kids,’ Nicki, a First Nations woman, told the Royal Commission.
The children all live with disability.
‘We were literally given children, told that they have a disability [but] absolutely nothing about the disability, nothing. No documentation,’ said Marita.
Marita and Nicki were told one of the children has a chromosome abnormality.
‘The other two … are still not diagnosed yet,’ said Nicki. ‘So we did the genetic test to see if they had the same genetic abnormality … but they don't. But there are other, you know, issues. We just don't know what they are. Is it cognitive, is it [autism] or whatever? Trauma?’
Nicki said the department of child protection had been ‘involved with the kids ever since they were born’. Yet, despite ‘very visible, obvious disability’, the children remained undiagnosed and unsupported for several years.
‘I place a lot of blame on the department for not pursuing that from an early intervention … In this case they haven't really been advocating for these children.’
Nicki said the children came to their home with NDIS packages, but with no services in place or information about how to access them.
‘We weren't given anything,’ said Marita. ‘We weren't given phone numbers to NDIS or to care workers … We literally had no idea about how much funding, how to even navigate it at all.’
Nicki said one child has ‘significant social, emotional, perhaps a cognitive delay’, but accessing services without a diagnosis is ‘an uphill battle’.
‘It is really hard trying to plan for an NDIS plan when you don't know what their diagnosed issues are … And service providers would be like, “If you want to address the trauma, we need to have a long time to do that.” … And then unpacking what is trauma, what is a disability, you know, it is just, yeah, so hard.’
Nicki said because it’s unclear what disabilities the children have, their funding doesn’t match their support needs.
‘And that is why I got in this big row with this NDIS lady … She is like "You don't need that support any more." Like, you don't understand the situation that we are in and how these kids present. And while they are not all completely diagnosed, there are things that still come up that require [funding].’
Nicki said, for example, she and Marita are exhausted and need respite care for the children.
‘[The NDIS officer] is like "Oh, but they go to school." And I am like "Yeah, and I work full-time and I have still got other kids that we need to care for.” ... [They’re] asking people that are under the pump, under pressure and already exhausted to continue to exhaust themselves when we know there is funding available, but we can't get access to it.’
Marita and Nicki have since handed the care of two children to other family members.
‘In the end it just got too much for us. We got burnt out physically, mentally, emotionally. In ways I didn't even know you could get burnt out, I was burnt out.’
Nicki said she and Marita are willing to be kinship carers, but need better support.
‘Like foster carers get a lot of support, you know, they get training. We didn't get any training, nothing. Like, it was only stuff that we have sorted out ourselves.’
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.