OPINION
The phone rings. It's a good source and he sounds upset.
"This is the worst case of child abuse I've ever heard," he says.
What he was about to tell me would shock the nation.
It was the case of Nia Glassie. She was fighting for life and the
Kelly Makiha: Nia could have been 18 now. She could have been alive
Michael Curtis (left) threatens Lisa Kuka, the mother of Nia Glassie, as they leave the dock in the Rotorua District Court. Photo / Stephen Parker
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I went to Nia's house on Frank St in Koutū and sure enough, the house was cordoned off with police tape. Officers were inside doing a scene examination.
So I talk to people who live on the street. What do they know about what went on?
A few started to tell me some horror stories of what they'd seen and heard.
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One said she'd seen a little girl on the roof crying. Another said she heard a girl crying in the rain and no one would let her inside. Others described drunken parties, loud music and cars coming and going.
So why didn't they do anything?
They didn't want to get involved or weren't sure what they were hearing was what they thought. Turns out what went on behind closed doors was even worse.
Nia died. She was murdered.
The killers and abusers were, in my opinion, just animals and they soon appeared for the first time in the Rotorua District Court.
I was there to see them.
Michael Curtis, Wiremu Curtis, Oriwa Kemp and Michael Pearson strolled into the dock slowly then slumped over the edges like they were incapable of standing smartly for the few minutes they were there.
I'll never forget the late Judge James Weir's reaction. He glared at them, read the papers before him, glared at them again, kept reading and glared some more.
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He then put the papers down and there was a long awkward pause while he glared some more.
"If this is true, you are in a lot of trouble," he seethed with force.
What the judge was reading were the police allegations of what little Nia had gone through while in their care.
At trials, often killers manage to hold their shame and guilt together out of respect for the court. They usually sit quietly, deadpan or at least try to put on a good show.
This lot was different.
I remember they couldn't sit straight and if they weren't laughing or giggling, I believe they were looking fed up, bored and over it.
A police officer or prison guard was placed between them.
Lisa Kuka was charged at a later date with her daughter's manslaughter and, as I have seen in other child abuse cases, she turned up to court dressed in merchandise that professed love for Nia.
In my view, what makes them think spending some money on some screen printing suddenly makes them a good parent?
We were given permission to attend Nia's funeral at St Luke's Pacific Islanders' Presbyterian Church in Tokoroa and I remember the vibe being among Nia's father's side of the family as different.
Nia's father had separated from Kuka and had moved to Australia.
His family were loving, welcoming and kind. There was sadness and heartfelt raw emotion. And there was lots of singing of Pacific Island and Samoan songs and prayers.
We were invited to join the mourners for food and we found ourselves sitting at the same table as Kuka, who was later jailed for nine years on two counts of manslaughter in relation to Nia's horrific death.
The Glassie family members made us feel welcome as guests.
It left you wondering how life could have been different if Nia had experienced the love and respect for their culture this side of her family obviously had.
Since Nia's case, I've cried in the court press benches for other tragic child killings, including Moko Rangitoheriri, Karlos Stephens, Arnica Savage, Comfort Joy Thompson-Pene and Ferro-James Sio.
Nia could have been 18 now.
She could have been starting a new job or tertiary education.
She could have been an amazing netballer or artist.
She could have been alive.
