Zaire and Navita
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.
Zaire, mid-20s, has a rare chromosome disorder causing intellectual disability and epilepsy.
For the past 10 years he has lived in group homes.
‘I can’t tell you how much it pains me,’ Zaire’s mum Navita told the Royal Commission, ‘to have to entrust the care of my son, who can’t speak, to people I don’t know.’
Zaire frequently plays with his penis.
‘He doesn’t masturbate, it’s just like a toddler, he’s got his hand down his pants a lot.’
Some years ago, Zaire was living in a home with three other young males who had high support needs.
Zaire walked into the lounge room, ‘flipped his penis out’ and started playing with it. A male support worker told him to put his penis back in his pants.
‘But Zaire doesn’t follow directions. He doesn’t really know how to follow directions very well.’
Zaire continued to play with his penis and the support worker started yelling at him.
‘Then he started to kick him and he kicked him and kicked him in the genitals until [Zaire] cried and left the room.’
A female support worker immediately reported the incident.
The provider ‘did all the right things’ and ultimately terminated the support worker’s employment.
Navita went to police who told her there was nothing they could do because Zaire couldn’t testify.
Navita didn’t push it any further, even though there was a witness.
‘I wanted [the support worker] to be rehabilitated rather than to be punished.’
Some years later, Navita discovered he was working for another disability provider.
She believes there needs to be mandatory checks for people working with vulnerable people.
‘He would have immediately been put on that list and not be able to wipe his CV clean and go and get a job with [another provider].’
A couple of years ago, Navita was in Zaire’s room getting some things. The support worker didn’t realise she was still in the house.
Zaire walked into the living room with his hands in his pants, playing with his penis.
A male support worker yelled at him ‘in the most angry voice’, telling him to get his ‘fuckin hands out of his pants’.
Navita told him to stop abusing Zaire. He apologised, saying he was having a bad day.
When Navita got home she became concerned about what else must happen when she’s not there.
She decided to contact the support worker directly to pursue her own ‘informal restorative justice process’.
She told him how she felt hearing him abuse Zaire and wanted to make sure it didn’t happen again.
‘If you feel like you’re having a crappy day, don’t go to work because it’s not fair for people like [Zaire]. They can’t fight back, they can’t talk back and it’s really not fair.’
The provider initiated a disciplinary process, which they believed worked much more effectively because Navita had spoken to the support worker about how she felt.
‘We need a process that can support us and support the workers to come together and resolve it differently and to get behaviour change in people.’
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.