Skip to main content

Timothy and Dalia

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.

‘That house should have been shut down immediately. Those people should have been taken out, replaced with agency staff. That is what the protocol asks for. It was never done.’

Timothy had Down syndrome and was non-verbal. His mother, Dalia, moved him into a disability group home when he was about 10 as she thought he would be better supported.

At 10, Timothy was ‘fit and healthy and a great kid going to school’, Dalia told the Royal Commission. ‘By the time I got him back [from the group home], he couldn't walk, couldn't see, couldn't feed.’

Dalia said Timothy was ‘abused mercilessly’ at the home.

One support worker gave him ‘a nice black eye’ and ‘continually assaulted’ him. He was beaten and ended up with a head injury.

‘[The support worker had] been reported multiple times by other houses for abusing clients. They didn't sack him, they moved him. He beat [Timothy] relentlessly, but everybody around there watched it happen.’

When Dalia reported the abuse to police, they ‘laughed at and ridiculed’ her.

‘People think because they are disabled, intellectually, that these children don't exist. They don't have feelings.’

By his early teens, Timothy weighed 32 kilograms and experienced difficulty walking.

‘They kept telling me he wouldn't eat. Then I find out he has been fed his own faeces. They were eating all the food, the staff.’

A new house manager, Sarah, realised ‘within a day’ that there was ‘abuse in the house’.

Sarah noted bruising on Timothy’s body and learned that the provider had taken him to hospital emergencies more than 20 times without informing Dalia. She asked staff and her superiors why they hadn’t reported the incidents.

‘Everyone was very much tight-lipped.’

‘[Sarah] was stood down and defamed,’ Dalia said.

Timothy, with ‘marks all over his back and his body’, returned to live with his family.

‘Razor blade marks, burn marks … everywhere. It took him nearly two years to feel safe enough at home and not have flashbacks.’

But Timothy’s health had deteriorated, and he was often ‘writhing in pain’.

‘To the point where he was having fits. He couldn’t hold his bowel any more. And the screaming, the screaming, the screaming … He didn't get up. He didn't walk anymore, he didn't smile anymore.’

Dalia couldn’t get supports.

‘I didn't get carers, I couldn't get a package. They made it really hard … I couldn't get him in hospitals, no-one would touch him … Community services wanted to push him back into that agency and back into their funding.’

Dalia ‘kept him alive’ for about five more years, and Timothy passed away in his early 20s.

There was no coroner’s inquest. Dalia said the group home ‘vaporised’ all of Timothy’s records.

‘My son is dead because of these people. I need accountability and I need to know he didn't die in vain. I want my son to be something that happened that caused great change for all people with disabilities.’

Community
Settings and contexts
 

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.