New Zealand is on track. One child dies in NZ as a result of abuse every five weeks.
Three children are dead so far in New Zealand this year as a result of domestic violence and it is not even the end of March.
In many cases they get fleeting news coverage and we may not even learn their names.
Names matter. We refuse to speak the name of the mosque murderer in our search for non-violence. We won't give him any air time – he was not us, says Prime Minister Jacinda Adern. He does not exist.
But he did. He really did! And so do the children that are dying in New Zealand as a result of domestic violence occurring right here. We need to speak their names. We need to be just as outraged by their deaths as we are by the mosque killings.
Yet we keep quiet about them because they are our national shame. We look the other way.
Adern is to be commended on setting a standard of non-violence through her support of the Muslim victims and law reform banning assault weapons.
Yet, as we attempt to raise ourselves like a phoenix from the ashes, let's keep it real.
Let's keep the focus on the victims and stop deflecting to protect our national identity.
Let's acknowledge the violence in our society so we can try to fix it.
Currently there is an almost obscene celebration of ourselves as New Zealanders.
Adern has carefully crafted a response to a terrorist act in New Zealand so that tables have been completely turned and we have come up smelling of roses.
The message is: 'This is not us - it is just one individual who lost the plot'.
Adern really is a good leader – she is doing well in protecting our national identity. National identities are important in a global economy.
I think it is wrong that the world's tallest building (in Dubai) is lit up with an image of Jacinda Adern when our own dying children in New Zealand get limited media coverage.
Frankly, it's tacky.
I am reminded, that despite the call to peace and non-violence in the wake of the Muslim shootings, violence still walks freely in New Zealand.
We thought if we shouted 'this is not us' loud enough we could convince ourselves that we are truly a peaceful nation.
Tell that to the dead child. Tell it to any victim of domestic violence in New Zealand.
Tell it to 4-week-old Maree Ngahere. Tell it to the nameless Motueka child. Their faces are the ones we need in lights.
The figures are grim. There are 14,000 "substantiated findings" of child abuse every year in New Zealand. Police respond to a domestic call out every seven minutes.
The 'this is not us' mantra It is a form of nationalist denial. Violence is stitched into our social system and daily lives. It lives among us, within us and through us.
Violence lives among us in the ever-evolving statistics of child abuse and domestic violence.
It lives within us when we inflict violence (in any form) on another living being - both human and non-human. It lives through us when we look the other way.
And we do look the other way. New Zealand's record of child abuse is horrifying. It is the worst in the OECD.
Looking the other way is not just about speaking up when we see abuse directly.
It is about agitating for social change when know something is horribly wrong - like horrific levels of child abuse.
We need to raise our voices every single time a child dies in New Zealand.
To be fair, in June 2016 New Zealand did have a protest march against child abuse, spurred by the death of little Moko Rangitoheriri.
However, we need sustained campaigning that says we are serious about this issue.
And we need to support the people who work closely with children and families: teachers, police, social workers, and health professionals.
What if we were to form a mass vigil for all the children who have died in New Zealand as a result of child abuse? One candle for every little life. Between 2010 and 2016 that was 66 lives.
What if we demanded an adequate social welfare system within which children and families had wrap around care?
What if we valued children so much in New Zealand that our leader Adern would raise the pay of our teachers in early childhood and schools to demonstrate the value of their work?
But she didn't. And we looked the other way. We did not call a mass uprising to say we wanted our teachers and schools supported. We did not yell loud enough and say 'this is not us'.
If the recent death of the child in Maketu doesn't raise the hairs on your arms in the same way that the spine-chilling hakas did in the aftermath of the shootings it is because we have normalised it.
Another child has died in suspicious circumstances in New Zealand and we are in no position to deny that we are a violent society.
New Zealand, let's not do this. Let's acknowledge that this is us and engage in meaningful social change for the better.
