The Abuse in Care report was released today after six years of investigation. Video / NZ Herald
Royal Commission of Inquiry says “unimaginable” and widespread abuse in care between 1950 and 2019 amounts to a “national disgrace”.
200,000 out of an estimated 655,000 in care were abused and many more neglected, with Māori disproportionately affected and subjected to overt and targeted racism.
Violence and sexual abuse were common, and in some cases children and young people were “trafficked” to members of the public for sex.
Report calls for apologies from the Government and the Pope and Archbishop of Canterbury as global heads of the churches responsible, along with other religious bodies and organisations.
It also recommends an inquiry into evidence of unmarked graves at former psychiatric hospitals and the establishment of aspecialist police unit dedicated to investigating and prosecuting those responsible for the abuse.
The abuse and neglect of hundreds of thousands of New Zealanders in the care of state- and faith-based institutions has been branded “a national disgrace”.
The long-awaited report of the Abuse in Care Royal Commission, six years in the making, has been released this afternoon.
“Instead of receiving care and support, children, young people and adults in care were exposed to unimaginable physical, emotional, mental and sexual abuse, severe exploitation and neglect,” the report says.
It found people who had suffered during decades of systemic abuse had received little redress and “if this injustice is not addressed, it will remain as a stain on our national character forever”.
Among its 138 recommendations, the inquiry proposed that avenues be opened up allowing for compensation claims to be made in the courts, outside the ACC system.
An estimated 655,000 children, young people and adults were in care during the period under review, from 1950 to 2019. Of these, it estimated 200,000 were abused and even more were neglected.
The true number will never be known because some records were never created, were lost or, in some cases, destroyed.
The abuse and neglect could not be justified by the standards of the day, or now, the report said.
“It is a national disgrace that hundreds of thousands of children, young people and adults were abused and neglected in the care of the state and faith-based institutions.”
“These gross violations occurred at the same time as Aotearoa New Zealand was promoting itself, internationally and domestically, as a bastion of human rights and as a safe, fair country in which to grow up as a child in a loving family.
The commission was established in 2018, initially to look into abuse in state care, and later expanded its remit to include religious or “faith-based” organisations.
The final report is 2944 pages long in 16 volumes, the last of which is a 364-page book of stories from “survivors”, the word used by the royal commission to describe the people who had been abused and neglected. The youngest person to give evidence was 14, the oldest was 87.
The report found fault with successive Government ministers and departments, and a range of religious organisations including the Catholic Church, the Anglican Church, the Methodist and Presbyterian churches, the Salvation Army and the Gloriavale religious community on the West Coast.
Even the police were found to be at fault, for several failings, including the disproportionate representation of Māori in the justice system, negative treatment of Pacific peoples and disabled people, not following policies on the treatment of minors and using police cells to detain children and young people, sometimes for weeks.
The report called for official apologies and redress from the Government and the organisations responsible.
It said the apologies should be made by the global heads of the churches involved, including the Pope, for the Catholic Church, and the Archbishop of Canterbury, for Anglicans.
Police were asked to establish a specialist unit dedicated to investigating and prosecuting those responsible for the abuse, and the inquiry also called for a review of the appropriateness of street names and public amenities named after a proven perpetrator.
Prime Minister Christopher Luxon, who called it “a dark and sorrowful day” following the report’s release, said the Government would make a formal apology on November 12.
The report found abuse across the spectrum of care settings, from foster homes to large institutions, and perpetrated by a wide range of people, including professionals and clinicians.
The abuse “almost always” started from the day a person was placed in care and often continued until they left. For some, this meant years or even decades of frequent abuse and neglect.
“For some, it was a lifetime; for others, it led to an unmarked grave.”
Another recommendation called for an inquiry into these unmarked graves, evidence of which had been found at former psychiatric institutions across New Zealand, particularly at Porirua, Tokanui and Sunnyside Hospitals.
The report said children, young people and adults were regularly treated without compassion, wilfully neglected or denied basic necessities such as privacy, food and suitable clothing.
Māori, who made up 44% of those who came forward during the inquiry phase, experienced harsher treatment in many settings, being “degraded” because of their ethnicity and skin colour.
They were denied access to practise tikanga or communicate in te reo, or to connect with their whakapapa, sometimes violently.
Pacific peoples also experienced racial abuse and cultural neglect. Deaf people and those with disabilities were subjected to targeted abuse and derogatory verbal abuse.
The report says physical abuse was prevalent across all settings, and staff often pitted children and young people against each other, encouraging peer-on-peer abuse.
“In some cases, staff went to extremes to inflict as much pain as possible using weapons and electric shocks.”
Sexual abuse was commonplace in both state and faith-based settings.
Abusers groomed children, young people and vulnerable adults into trusting them.
They also deceived other staff, volunteers and leaders into believing they were trustworthy, which meant survivors who tried to disclose abuse were disbelieved.
Many survivors were sexually assaulted, raped and forced to perform sexual acts. Sexual abuse was used to punish and intimidate.
“In some cases, the inquiry was told abusers organised the sexual abuse of survivors by trafficking them to members of the public.”
The report confirmed that the treatment of people at the former Lake Alice Hospital matched official definitions of torture. Photo / Mark Mitchell
The inquiry reiterated an earlier finding, previously reported, on the Lake Alice Child and Adolescent Unit near Marton, which found the use of electric shocks and the drug paraldehyde as punishment met official definitions of torture.
Luxon acknowledged the Lake Alice findings in his press conference today.
“I am sorry it has taken so long for this acknowledgement of torture,” he said.
The Abused
People were abused in care arrangements right across a spectrum, from state placements in foster care, through boys’ homes and boot camps, schools run by religious organisations, to large-scale hospitals and institutions.
The abused and neglected ranged from babies left unattended in cots without human contact, to long-term adult patients in psychiatric care.
“Babies were at times left in cots, with no hugs, physical interaction or other expressions of care.”
Many survivors recounted extreme sexual and physical abuse they experienced as children and adolescents.
“It cannot be emphasised enough that many of the victims of abuse and neglect, including of serious abuse, were children,” the report said.
“Children are vulnerable simply because of their age. Those in care were often extremely vulnerable because of the circumstances that led them to be in care. There was an even greater vulnerability for disabled children. Similar considerations apply in respect of disabled people more generally and adults in care.”
Successive Governments pursued policies of large-scale institutions for people with mental health issues, or with learning difficulties or disabilities.
The Kimberley Centre near Levin sometimes held more than 750 people. Photo / NZME
The Kimberley Centre near Levin, which received a volume of its own in the report, sometimes housed more than 750 people.
Between 1952 and 1972, the number of beds in psychopaedic hospitals increased from 549 to 2017.
A report in 1953 recommended large-scale residential institutions, which could accommodate 400 to 500 children from 5 years old, as the best model of care for children with learning disabilities. This was despite international best practice that identified community care as the best model, and opposition from parent groups.
Deaf and disabled people were placed in institutions including psychopaedic and psychiatric hospitals, specialist wards in general hospitals, and education settings such as special schools and residential schools and occupational training centres.
Disabled people were often identified as disabled at a young age. Social attitudes contributed to disabled people being considered less valuable than other people.
The people in care had diverse needs, but the report noted that they all needed support and caring, strong protective factors and safeguarding.
Many survivors told the inquiry about the “horrific” abuse and neglect they experienced while in care and the lifelong impacts for them and their families and whānau.
“For many survivors, the abuse and neglect they experienced in care resulted in serious and debilitating addictions, an inability to form stable or loving relationships, missed opportunities for educational and vocational achievement and feelings of a deep sense of shame or blame,” the report said.
“For some, it set them on a pathway to imprisonment. The inquiry has heard it led others to take their own lives.”
Dr Rawiri Waretini-Karena, an academic who was in prison for 10 years after being convicted of murder as a teenager, is quoted in the report.
“I was 18 when I walked into the yard – never been to prison before,” he said.
“I walked out into the yard and there were 50 men there. I knew 45 of them; that’s because they were beside me in the social welfare homes, the family homes and the boys’ homes.
“So that’s when I realised there was a pipeline to prison process.”
The abusers
The report said there was no single identifiable “bad apple” type of abuser.
“Abusers were male, female, young, old, Pākehā, Māori, Pacific peoples, people from other ethnic groups, leaders, respected members of communities, unskilled workers, caregivers, volunteers, educated professionals including teachers, social workers, psychologists, psychiatrists and medical staff.”
“They were also religious leaders including bishops, priests, religious sisters, religious brothers, deacons, lay people.
“Abusers were single, married with children, heterosexual, homosexual and celibate people.”
Many held highly-skilled or senior positions. Some were charismatic leaders. Most were adults.
Many survivors were afraid to disclose abuse because of the power adults had over them.
Abusers were able to misuse the power, control and opportunity that came with their positions to perpetrate abuse and neglect, sometimes going undetected for long periods.
Positions that allowed a high degree of unsupervised contact with, or control over, people in care provided the greatest opportunities for abuse – for example, positions in foster homes, boarding schools, institutions and residences.
Foster parents similarly had almost total power and control over a foster child or young person’s life.
Staff and volunteers in school hostels or boarding facilities held positions that gave them considerable power and control over the daily routines of those in their care.
“Abusers were able to use these positions of power and control to carry out abuse and neglect, with high rates of sexual abuse in some settings,” the report said.
Medical professionals and healthcare workers had “coercive” statutory powers to place people in care (at times without consent), decide their treatment including using compulsory orders.
“Some people misused the power and control that came with these positions to inflict certain types of abuse and neglect.”
In religious settings, abusers occupied a wide range of positions.
Many of them benefited from the elevated moral authority and/or power attributed to people in religious roles – bishop, pastor, minister, brother, priest, elder or shepherd – but volunteers or lay people also assumed moral authority.
In these contexts, abuse occurred in a religious framework or used religious beliefs as justification.
Data from the Catholic Church showed that among the diocesan clergy, there were 378 reports of abuse made against 182 individuals, constituting 14% of all diocesan clergy during the inquiry period.
Among male members of religious orders, 599 reports of abuse were made against 187 individuals, representing 8% of all male members of religious orders during the same period.
“Abusers lied, silenced survivors and manipulated others to avoid accountability,” the report said.
“Many abusers were adept at hiding their abuse or avoiding accountability once concerns had been raised.”
Abusers would often take steps so that survivors who had disclosed abuse or neglect were not believed.
Many abusers developed strong relationships with their colleagues, which worked in their favour when concerns were raised.
Other abusers would use their positions to silence or prevent survivors from disclosing abuse or neglect, telling them they would not be believed.
Others bullied survivors, threatened further abuse and, in some instances, threatened to kill them or hurt members of their family if they told anyone.
There was also peer‑on‑peer abuse in care, where people were abused by others of a similar age or in the same care setting.
“In care settings, a culture of physical or sexual violence could be established through staff condoning or even encouraging peer-on-peer abuse between residents.”
In the words of one man who had been at the Van Asch College for deaf students in Christchurch in 1979: “The older boys would often act as a pack and they would target me.”
“About three times, boarding staff saw this same group of boys target me, take my pants off and try to assault me. Every time, the staff just laughed and did nothing. They found it funny.”
Racism towards Māori
About 44% of the people who came forward to the inquiry were Māori, 2.5 times the proportion of Māori in the general population.
The report said Māori survivors told the inquiry of the “overt and targeted racism” they endured.
This included cultural neglect and the deliberate stripping away of Māori survivors from their culture, language, and identity in both State and faith-based care.
Those who were adopted were legally severed from their whakapapa.
“Cultural genocide as defined by international law is the systematic destruction of traditions, values, language, and other elements that make one group of people distinct from another,” the report said.
“While the inquiry has not found a particular policy that expresses cultural genocide as a goal or intention of the care system, Māori have been disproportionately targeted, removed from their culture and placed into care systems that have not prioritised or provided for their traditions, values, and language.”
This had also disrupted the transmission of knowledge, tikanga, te reo and collective identity to younger generations.
The inquiry agreed with a Waitangi Tribunal finding that Crown care policies had been dominated by efforts to assimilate Māori to the Pākehā way, which it called “the most fundamental and persuasive breach” of te Tiriti o Waitangi and its principles.
“Care systems were part of the ongoing effect of colonisation,” the report said.
The care system had a hostile attitude towards the use and retention of te reo Māori, and some survivors had their Māori names changed or were punished for speaking te reo Māori.
“Māori survivors suffered a range of abuse and neglect across care settings, including psychological, emotional, physical, sexual, cultural, educational, medical, and spiritual abuse and neglect, on top of the effects of colonisation and urbanisation.”
Case study: The Kimberley Centre
The Kimberley Hospital near Levin, later known as the Kimberley Centre, which sometimes housed more than 750 people, is one of a number of institutions with its own case study within the report.
For the 61 years from 1945 that the Kimberley Centre was open, the institution had a “significantly harmful impact” on the lives of many of the disabled people who lived there, the report said.
Many disabled children, young people and adults were placed at the Kimberley Centre by their family, commonly on the advice of a medical practitioner, in the belief that it was the best place for them.
Some were sent there by their family for respite care and others arrived through transfers or patient swaps with other institutions.
“Physical and sexual abuse of disabled children, young people and adults at the Kimberley Centre was pervasive and severe.”
“Physical abuse by staff and peers was common and normalised at the Kimberley Centre.
“This was reflected by the ‘Kimberley cringe’ where survivors would cower and protect their head if they were approached quickly.”
Staff and other patients at the Kimberley Centre committed rape and severe sexual assaults involving intimidation and punishment on disabled children, young people and adults.
Young people were forced to abuse their peers.
“Some staff took payment from groups of external abusers to organise rapes targeting Māori and non-speaking disabled children and young people,” the report said.
Many disabled children, young people and adults were placed in seclusion, sometimes as punishment for their behaviour. Some were sedated in seclusion until they calmed down, which could take hours or days.
Others were locked into day rooms for long periods and overnight with the lights off because of understaffing, in breach of policy.
Neglect was pervasive. Survivors experienced psychological and emotional neglect; physical, cultural, medical, nutritional and educational neglect.
The emotional and psychological needs of disabled babies, children, young people and adults were largely neglected – they were not hugged, cuddled, or loved.
There was little to do, with residents spending 80% of their time in no form of purposeful activity, and 70% of their time in their villas.
Nutritional practices were poor. Some disabled children, young people and adults reported that they lost weight, were not fed for long periods, and some were fed with unnecessary feeding tubes.
Tents where young people slept alongside supervisors at Whakapakari, a youth boot camp on Great Barrier Island. Photo / Living Pictures
Case Study: Boot Camp
Young people were sent to the Whakapakari Youth Programme, or “boot camp”, on Great Barrier Island between 1977 and 2004 to be “straightened out”.
Instead, their lives were ruined from the abuse they suffered there, the report said.
One Pākehā survivor told the commission of a “rape club” culture when he attended Whakapakari in 1990.
Sometimes the abuse occurred after a firearm was brandished at the boys.
The programme was government-funded to use the environment and outdoor activities to supposedly deprogramme youth from drug abuse, develop self‑esteem and learn skills, Māoritanga and gain confidence.
The geographically isolated “boot camp” had harsh conditions that emphasised survival skills, military-style discipline, subservience, self‑sufficiency and hard physical labour.
The young people sent there endured cruel and inhumane treatment.
Children and young people in the custody of the Director General of Social Welfare were sent there by social workers or sentenced by judges in the Youth Court.
Many had significant emotional and psychological problems but were not assessed for their needs such as disability or neurodiversity.
Staff estimated that 80% were Māori, 14% Pākehā, and 5% Pacific peoples.
Most were male but some were female. They were mostly aged between 14 and 16 but some were as young as 12.
They were sent to the programme for between one and six months. Although the young person or their guardian’s consent was required, this was not always obtained.
Children and young people were housed in substandard tents, with long drop toilets and little or no hot water for bathing.
The state funded the programme until its closure in 2004 but failed to monitor it or to safeguard the children and young people in its care at Whakapakari.
In first-person testimony, one man described being forced to dig a grave and lie in it while a supervisor fired shots overhead. He also described being raped at the camp.
The commission said that research demonstrated that boot camps and other harsh “short sharp shock” interventions for youth are ineffective at reducing repeat offending.
Department of Justice research in 1983 found that 71% of young people reoffended within 12 months of release.
In 1988, reconviction rates of young offenders in these settings were 92%.
“Survivors of Whakapakari suffer from long-term conditions such as PTSD and terror of meeting their abusers,” the report said.
“Almost all have experienced drug and alcohol addiction and every one of the survivors has been in prison since they attended the programme. Some survivors remain there to this day.”
Former Minister of Child, Youth and Family, Ruth Dyson, said of Whakapakari in 2017: “A lot of government money was put into that programme and in the end it resulted in the state funding violence and abuse towards children and young people. That’s how horrific it was.”
Kohitere Boy's Training Centre in Levin turned out hundreds of disaffected boys who later formed themselves into gangs. Photo / RNZ
The volume of the report dealing with these institutions, which contained mainly Māori, is headed “a cauldron of violence”.
“Each had cultures of normalised and pervasive violence,” the report said.
“Extreme physical abuse was routinely meted out by staff members to punish, contain and humiliate boys. Many survivors experienced severe corporal punishment from staff, sometimes inflicted with weapons and to the genitals.”
Staff also punished boys with extreme physical training and inhumane tasks, while assaulting them at the same time.
Survivors also experienced significant violence from other children.
Younger or physically smaller boys, including the few Pākehā boys, were often a target for abuse from other children and young people.
Staff often condoned, encouraged or ignored peer‑on‑peer violence through a king‑pin system, including violent “stomping” initiations of new boys, who were then expected to do the same to others.
Sexual abuse was also pervasive. It was inflicted on survivors by staff members, occasional adult visitors, and other boys.
“One third of registered survivors from these institutions were groomed, sexually abused, or brutally raped by staff,” the report said.
“Groups of older boys raped and sexually abused younger boys – one quarter of survivors described being sexually abused by their peers.”
Solitary confinement or seclusion was misused, and was often used to punish those who had tried to run away.
Some survivors were kept for days, weeks and sometimes months in prison‑like solitary confinement as a punishment, and were physically and psychologically abused while in there.
Racism and cultural abuse were normalised.
“Many survivors suffer from post‑traumatic stress disorder, nightmares, depression and suicidal ideation. Some have died by suicide.
“Many survivors had issues with drug and alcohol use and addiction later in life, and many committed offences connected to their addictions and trauma.
More than half of the survivors from these institutions who spoke to the Inquiry had been in prison at some point in their lives.
One survivor told the inquiry he was made to do physical training naked.
“This involved me running laps around the block, still completely naked,” he said. “Every 10th lap you would do push-ups in the middle of the yard. Every time I ran past Mrs [staff member], she would hit me with a metal hearth shovel.”
Some survivors intentionally committed offences sufficiently serious to ensure they would be discharged as a ward of the state, with borstal or prison seen as preferable to care.
“Hokio School and Kohitere Centre were places where gangs were formed,” the report said.
Gang members attend a hearing of the Abuse in Care Royal Commission. Photo / Te Ao Māori News
Feeding the gangs
According to one survivor, Wiremu Waikari, who was abused in Hokio and Kohitere and later went on to borstal, these institutions turned out hundreds of young men who later became gang members.
“In the 1960s and 1970s, gangs in New Zealand really kicked off because the boys’ homes were feeding them with disenfranchised young people who were not nurtured by Māori or the state,” he told the inquiry.
“That is definitely where my time in state care pushed me, and hundreds of other unhappy Māori kids, who weren’t sure of themselves in any world.”
Waikari later left the Mongrel Mob and trained to become a social worker.
Another survivor, Paora (Paul) Sweeney, who later became a prison counsellor, said New Zealand’s gang problem began in the institutions.
“Kohitere was the start of it all. The gang problem in the country today comes from there.
“A lot of the boys from Kohitere were in the gangs with me later on,” he said.
“They were mostly Māori... It’s called Kohitere Boys’ Training Centre, but I don’t know what they were training to do. Be gang members?”
The inquiry agreed that Hokio School and Kohitere Centre were places where gangs were formed.
“The state placed children and young people who were already vulnerable in these places, allowed abuse and neglect to occur, and provided no assistance to survivors to work through the impacts of abuse, neglect and trauma.”
“Instead, many survivors found protection, connection, support and understanding by joining gangs.”
Gloriavale created a culture through its doctrines which allowed abuse to occur. Photo / Google Maps
Gloriavale
Forty-one former people who had been members of the Gloriavale community on the West Coast of the South Island gave evidence to the commission.
The report found that from Gloriavale’s inception in 1969 through to the end of the inquiry period, the community’s senior leadership were at fault for allowing physical and sexual abuse to happen within their flock.
They failed to protect survivors, and to recognise the harm the abuse caused.
They responded to abuse allegations by “seeking repentance from offenders and forgiveness from victims”, inappropriately dealing with perpetrators, allowing them to remain in the community and continuing to abuse.
The commission said Gloriavale handled abuse complaints internally, without involving external authorities such as the police or Oranga Tamariki.
They also created a culture through the community’s doctrines that allowed abuse to occur.
“If someone made an allegation of sexual abuse against a male member of the community, the leaders did not let the rest of the community know, even if children are involved,” former Gloriavale member Zion Pilgrim said.
Ric Stevens spent many years working for the former New Zealand Press Association news agency, including as a political reporter at Parliament, before holding senior positions at various daily newspapers. He joined NZME’s Open Justice team in 2022 and is based in Hawke’s Bay. His writing in the crime and justice sphere is informed by four years of front-line experience as a probation officer.
