Meilani and Aniyah
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.
Meilani is in her early teens. She has cerebral palsy and intellectual disability and uses a wheelchair.
Her family arrived in Australia a few years ago under the refugee settlement program. A community charity helped enrol Meilani in a special school for people with intellectual disability.
Meilani had never been to school before, her mother Aniyah told the Royal Commission. ‘She cannot – understand anything,’ Aniyah said via an interpreter. But she ‘is a good student’, and tries hard. ‘What she has done in learning at school, it's for her mind.’
Meilani’s family provided the school with reports from a paediatrician on her disability and learning capacity, and she attended for a couple of hours a day. When the family inquired about a full-time education for Meilani, the school requested a report from an occupational therapist (OT).
Meanwhile, the principal agreed to slightly increase Meilani’s class time. However he wouldn’t let her use the toilets at school until an OT had instructed the staff on how to hoist her safely. The family struggled to access an OT, so she was unable to go to school for the rest of the year.
The family moved interstate and Meilani now goes to a purpose-built high school for students with intellectual disability. She has learnt to write her name and likes school, even though ‘it's difficult, it's so hard for her’.
However the family is now having problems getting Meilani to the school.
‘They say their bus is too big to come through my street … no bus can come to pick her up from home.’
The family lives in a housing estate. Cars and ambulances pass through the streets without a problem, Aniyah said.
‘I don't understand. This bus is a special bus for disabled children.’
The school told Aniyah her only choice was to wheel Meilani to the bus stop.
‘It’s a long distance,’ she said. ‘It may take 20 minutes … even in the raining and with this cold weather.’
Aniyah asked the school to provide a smaller bus to access the street, but it refused. She feels the school is discriminating against her family and spoke to them about it.
‘I say, “Why we can see this bus going to take other children, disabled children? Why just me?”
‘They say, “No, that's the way. That's the way it is.”’
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.