Karen Chhour steps back from abuse redress decisions due to potential payout

• Children’s Minister Karen Chhour recused herself from redress scheme decisions due to her own potential eligibility for compensation.
• Chhour delegated responsibilities to Social Development Minister Louise Upston to avoid conflict of interest perceptions.
• The Government is developing redress details for abuse survivors, with decisions expected this year.

Children’s Minister and abuse survivor Karen Chhour could be eligible for a payout under the redress scheme being developed by the Government.

That is why she has recused herself from any Cabinet decisions on the redress framework.

She has delegated her responsibilities to Social Development Minister Louise Upston.

Chhour, who was in foster care as a child, said she had not thought about whether she would apply for compensation.

Children's Minister Karen Chhour says she has an inner strength she didn't know she had. Photo / Mark Mitchell

“It’s not the fact that I would. It’s the fact that maybe I could that is the issue here,” she told the Herald.

In the interests of expediting survivors’ claims, she did not want even the perception of a conflict of interest to be raised.

“It’s not that I don’t want to advocate in that space. It’s the fact I want to make sure that everything goes right and smooth for them so it doesn’t slow down the process more than what it has been.”

Her recusal is expected to be included in the next set of declarations on Ministers’ Interests issued by the Cabinet Office.

Since receiving the report of the Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care, the Government has issued a formal apology to all survivors but announced details of redress only for victims of Lake Alice torture.

Redress for other survivors, including who could apply and how much they could get, is still being worked on. Erica Stanford is the lead minister and decisions are expected to be taken this year.

Chhour said that when the apology was delivered in Wellington on November 12 by various public sector leaders, it had far greater meaning for her than she had anticipated.

Through her own agency, Oranga Tamariki, she was doing some of the apologising but she was also being apologised to.

“I know apologies don’t necessarily go far enough for many, but … I hope it helped with the closure for some people because not being believed and not being heard is not an easy thing to happen.

“And having it acknowledged that you’re not crazy, that actually it wasn’t okay, helps with the healing journey for some.”

Asked about her own abuse, she said it was not just her story and she had to be careful about what she said about it publicly.

What happened to her before the state became involved was not its fault. But once the state was involved, it had a responsibility to make sure the child was safe.

“That’s where I’m at with the state. Once they knew something was not right, it was then their responsibility if they were going to intervene, to make sure I was safe.

“I was just put into a position where nobody actually cared. No one actually checked, nobody knew if I was safe.”

She talked in her maiden speech about having been born in Australia but being brought to New Zealand when she was about 1 by her mother.

Chhour had initially lived very happily with her grandmother in Kaeo, in the Far North, but when she was school-age, she was sent to Auckland to live with her mother, who had just got married.

She was deeply unhappy and by the age of nine, she didn’t know if she was going to make 10. She ran away on occasions and social workers were involved at least twice in decisions about where she lived. Unbeknown to Chhour, her grandmother had wanted her back but Child Youth and Family would not allow it.

A social worker had told her “I’m sorry, but none of your family wants you.”

“I have lived with these words my whole life,” she said.

Her speech continued: “The system needs to learn that children are not just a number or a problem to be got rid of. They have minds and hearts of their own, and our words can break them.

“Eventually, I was placed with a family member that did their best, but I always knew that I was forced on them and I never felt welcome ... I was bounced from pillar to post, and, by the time I was 14, I had moved schools seven times.

“I could not keep up, so I did what so many have done before, and I simply dropped out. I got a job and I saved what I could, and eventually I moved into a flat and became completely independent. I worked graveyard shifts at McDonald’s while I tried to continue my education by day, doing a course. I drank a bit, I cried a lot, but I was doing okay.”

She had her first baby at 18 with Meng Chhour, now her husband, who she had known from school days.

He got a telecommunications apprenticeship and she was taught how to sew by her mother-in-law, a Cambodian refugee, and ran a clothing business. The couple have four children, now aged between 25 and 12.

Chhour said her mother was alive “somewhere” but she didn’t really stay in touch with her. Her grandmother had since died but she was happy that three of her four children had got to know her.

Last year, Chhour travelled to Perth in Australia to meet her father for the first time and one of two sisters she didn’t realise she had until a few years ago.

In New Zealand, Chhour has two younger sisters and a younger brother, with whom she stays in touch.

“They’re doing well and I’m very proud of who they’ve become and I’m very proud of how they have just gone out and become such great people.

“I felt like their protector, a little bit like their second mum,” she said. “I think I still do.”

“I’m just grateful for everything we’ve been able to achieve.

“Life doesn’t necessarily always give you rainbows. But you just do the best you can with what you’ve got.”

Chhour joined Act after a friend “dragged” her along to an annual conference where David Seymour was speaking. She liked what she heard and volunteered to help, eventually becoming a candidate and MP in 2020.

When she was in Opposition, Labour deputy leader Kelvin Davis apologised to her for telling her to “cross into the Maori world” and to stop looking through a “vanilla lens”.

Chhour said at the time she had finally stood as a proud Maori woman and felt the comments had taken away her mana.

Karen Chhour speaking in a debate about the Royal Commission report into abuse in care. Photo / Mark Mitchell

After the 2023 election, she was made Minister for Children and Minister for the Prevention of Family and Sexual Violence.

Her work as an MP and minister had made her stronger, she said.

“The job is part of my healing journey.

“It has made me a lot stronger and it has made me realise there is an inner strength in me that I didn’t know I had.

She was pleased to be able to set an example for young people who grew up thinking they were not good enough or did not deserve the good things in life.

“You do, but sometimes you’ve just got to reach out and grab it.”

Chhour and Act have accused Opposition MPs of bullying her during the rows over her moves to repeal section 7AA of the Oranga Tamariki Act, the Treaty of Waitangi provisions.

Opponents believe it is vital for children in care to remain connected with their whanau and culture whereas Chhour believes placement of children should be “colour blind.”

She has also faced Opposition pressure over the so-called boot camp pilot programme in Palmerston North to try to turn around the lives of young offenders.

She had variously been shown crying in stories about her treatment as a minister and in discussing the issue of abuse in state care.

“Emotions are important,” she said. “We always try and teach our young men it’s okay to be sad, it’s okay to have emotions. What’s not okay is to bottle them up and act in a way that isn’t good for society.

“Emotions quite often get mistaken for weakness but for me, my emotions are my strength.

“But if my tears run out, it’s the time to leave that place.”