The threat of perverted sexual attention being paid to their children has many Far North parents on high alert, and in light of recent revelations it would be wrong to say that the danger isn't real. The greater perils facing some Far North children, however, come not from perverts but from their parents.
This edition of the Northland Age features the story of a man whose home was burgled while he was away. The thieves, two boys aged 13 and 14, knew he wasn't home. That, no doubt, is why they broke into Abraham Leef's home, and took their time about it. They even took meat from his freezer, cooked and ate it while they were there.
They also took four litres of home-brewed whisky and a magnum of wine, the latter a gift from a grateful employer when Mr Leef retired from a lifetime of driving trucks. He had kept the bottle for 15 years, and had been planning to pop the cork in June, when he celebrates his 80th birthday.
Abraham Leef is a good man. The writer has only met him twice, since the burglary, but his character is clear to see. He was raised at Panguru, when times were much harder than they will ever be for these two thieves and their families. A time when children were expected to earn their keep, in his case by tending gardens, chopping firewood so his mother could feed the family, and milking cows.
His parents encouraged him and his siblings to play sport, however, no doubt at significant cost in terms of time and money. He recalls trips to Kaitaia and Whangarei, a long way to travel in those days, and that a rugby match, a rep game to boot, was about the only reason for getting out of milking.
He remembers getting up in the pre-dawn darkness and having a cup of tea before heading for the cowshed, then having breakfast and leaving for school. He was raised to work hard, to make his own way in life, to help support his family and later support himself and his family.
He grew up to respect other people and their property, qualities he took with him into his job as a truck driver. The people whose produce he carried were grateful for that. Truck drivers, one suspects, were not routinely rewarded with magnums of wine.
Now almost 80, Mr Leef continues to work hard on his bushclad property at Mangataipa. His home, the house he and his beloved wife Ani built when they retired from the city, is immaculate inside and out. At the back door are raised gardens, one containing a flourishing crop of kumara, although the loss of Ani more than eight years ago has clearly robbed him of some of the pleasure he once gained from gardening and other household routines. He misses his wife badly; life alone does not suit Abraham Leef especially well.
When he arrived home one day and saw his back door open he knew what had happened, and his heart sank. He was grateful that the thieves didn't do the damage they might have done, and the property they took did not have great intrinsic value, but they did search the house, ransacking wardrobes and untidily emptying a large container of documents, presumably looking for money.
As is so often the case, the burglary has devastated its victim. It has given a keener edge to his grieving for his wife, and has reinforced his loneliness. It has made him angry, and determined to see that the boys who have hurt him pay some sort of price, as provided by the law, not perhaps so much from a wish for vengeance as despair that children should behave in such a cruel, callous way. He is doing this despite misgivings regarding how his community will react. He reported the burglary to the police fearing that the community would turn against him. It hasn't. And nor should it. But there is more water to go under the bridge yet.
The main offender, the "leader of the pack" as Mr Leef described him last week, is 13 years old. He has left school. He stays at home. He has no prospect of earning a living there, and in Mr Leef's view no hope of ever finding a job. The boy was to have remained in the immediate care of his mother while the judicial process takes its tortuous path, but she's gone to Wellington and left her son behind. The process, such as it is, cannot start without her.
Mr Leef despairs at the way in which some of today's children are being raised, and well he might. Too many are not being taught the virtues of honesty, hard work, respecting others. They are being abused just as surely as are the victims of sexual predators. They are being sentenced to lives of dependence upon the state and charity. These are the children we hear about as being deprived of opportunity, of being failed by "the system", when in fact they are being failed by their families.
The depth of Mr Leef's hurt is such that he is thinking of leaving the last home he shared with his wife, the home they built for their retirement, and building somewhere else. Not too far away, but far enough to start again. It is difficult to imagine what leaving that home would cost him, but it is a price he is considering paying.
Officially two children broke into a neighbour's house and flogged some alcohol and food. No big deal. But it is a big deal to the victim. It has changed his life. They won't understand that, and never will. That is how they can help themselves to other people's stuff and still sleep at night.
They are part of a generation that is being robbed, by their families, of all that is or could be good, including the opportunity to grow into happy, fulfilled adults rather than vultures who prey on their neighbours.
Predatory sexual offending is an abomination, but the more common evil lies much closer to home.
