Letters from survivors of abuse in care.
Letters from survivors of abuse in care.

OPINIONSocietyJuly 25, 2024

Is it harrowing? Absolutely. But here’s why you should read the abuse in care report

Letters from survivors of abuse in care.
Letters from survivors of abuse in care.

It’ll probably be the longest and most difficult read of your life, but that’s all the more reason to do it. Lyric Waiwiri-Smith makes a case for delving into the final report of the Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care.

Content warning: This article contains references to ableist language, physical, sexual and emotional violence, child abuse and neglect, and suicide.

Whanaketia – Through pain and trauma, from darkness to light, the final report of the Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care, is available to read in full here.

A day before the Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care released its findings, a six-year labour of pain, deputy prime minister Winston Peters used the term “retard” to describe a question posed in the House. It was fleeting, unprofessional and indicative of Peters’ severely lacking vocabulary and social sensibility, but worst of all, it reinforced a notion laid out by the abuse in care report: that those at the top of society have historically had little compassion for anyone whose reality does not reflect theirs.

Covering 3,000 pages and, in hard copy, weighing 14kg, the abuse in care report will most likely be the longest read of any person’s life. It will also likely be the most harrowing: violence in every form you could imagine, from spiritual and systemic to physical and sexual, is presented in these pages. It also details abuse you couldn’t picture in your worst nightmare. But it happened, it’s a part of our history, and these survivors have relived their experiences now, some for the first time in decades, to bring to light a part of our society that has too frequently been thrown in the too-hard basket. The report doesn’t just bring justice to survivors by allowing their voices to be heard – it also exposes the ways in which care facilities, churches, Crown agencies and key figures of our society have directly or indirectly allowed this abuse and worked to silence these New Zealanders.

Maybe if they were heard the first time, we would have fewer people incarcerated and connected to gang culture. Maybe if we were brave enough to look at and ask ourselves why we allowed this to happen, we could’ve prevented this cycle of abuse and neglect sooner. We live with its effects now, as abused children don’t stay children for ever: they grow up, and are forced to assimilate into a society they have learned not to trust. Sometimes, these children turn into adults who we’re told we can’t trust either.

Split into 16 booklets, numbered zero to 15, the report covers the bases of why, how, when and where abuse was experienced, with five case studies focused on reports of abuse and neglect within the Jehovah’s Witnesses, at the Whakapakari boot camp, Hokio Beach School and Kohitere Boys’ Training Centre, Van Asch College and Kelston School for the Deaf, and the Kimberley Centre. Survivor experiences are dotted throughout the booklets, though the final, the 15th, is dedicated solely to these stories.

The first four parts of the report lay out the circumstances, nature and extent of the abuse and neglect experienced in care, the reasoning for the report and its methodology, and recommendations to the government to ensure environments such as these are eliminated from New Zealand society. Part five of the report, titled Impacts, details the effects these decades of abuse have had on victims, which the reports estimates to be between 113,000 and 253,000 children, young people and adults between 1959 and 2019. This is around a third of people in care settings over this period, and a disproportionate number of these victims were Māori.

Erica Stanford, minister in charge of the government response to the inquiry, reads the report (Photo: Supplied)

As detailed in the report, time in care has provided a direct pathway for many survivors to gang membership or imprisonment, particularly those who are Māori or Pasifika, as well as sex work. The camaraderie and protection offered by gang life felt far more meaningful for some survivors than the degradation experienced at the hands of church or state, and the rampant abuse ultimately became normalised, with these learned behaviours sometimes continued into adulthood. Gang members and prisoners often seem to us as shadowy boogeymen; we have an idea of how they’re shaped (big, imposing, strong) and what they represent (fear, violence, criminality), and these ideas are reinforced by the media and government. In reading this report, the veil is lifted, the child inside of the “boogeyman” is looking back at you and saying “I was scared of a bad person, too.”

In his witness statement, survivor Poihipi McIntyre wrote: “to survive [Kohitere] I had to become a bully and use violence against others. This changed me. I lost empathy and became numb to witnessing and engaging in physical violence. To me, Kohitere was a training ground for jail.” A separate statement from survivor Jesse Kett paints a similar picture: “I first went to jail when I was 17 years old, for burglary and arson. I was in Waikeria prison for about nine months. To me it was like a holiday compared to Waimokoia. It was also better than most foster homes because everyone was treated and fed the same. I think I’m quite institutionalised because I don’t mind being in jail.”

The generational effects of abuse and neglect in care are far-reaching and complex, and it’s for these reasons the report recommends a $10,000 compensation be made to family members who have been cared for by survivors. The account of one faith survivor, whom the report named Mr JP, summed up the cyclical effects: “I have not been able to find my whakapapa. I had hoped to let my son know so that he could one day let his children know. But my son is dead now. He committed suicide in prison.”

The report’s sixth part uses a te Tiriti o Waitangi and human rights lens to unpack the levels and effects of abuse and neglect in care. It details a widespread loss of culture and language for Māori and Pasifika, and how this has impacted victims. The following instalment, part seven, looks at the factors that allowed abusive and neglectful environments to thrive in care. At 336 pages, it is one of the longer sections of the report, and perhaps the most difficult to read, covering the extent to which this abuse was covered up, the environments which allowed this behaviour to thrive, and the many ways these children were failed.

Gang members at a Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care hearing (Photo: Tommy de Silva)

Christina Ramage’s survivor experience sits in part seven. She describes a lifetime of sexual assault and abuse, and how this was taken advantage of by those who should have kept her safe: she was raped by doctors while confined in a straightjacket, and later given a nonconsensual abortion by a nurse after being raped by a psychiatrist. Renée Habluetzel’s experience is here too: under the thumb of Mrs Miles of Christchurch’s Little Acres Children’s Home, she was given violent beatings and was made to feel like an object.

Reading this report may very likely make you feel hopeless, angered, saddened and full of grief for the futures that were never realised. But there’s something else to take away from this as well: that, despite incredible adversity, compassion and healing is possible. Some survivors have found forgiveness and understanding, and others haven’t – that’s their journey – but as readers we can all learn how to act compassionately towards those whose lives have been made difficult by forces larger than them, and the lasting effects of this, whether it has provided a pathway to jail or an escape from the care system, where abuse still occurs. We have to be willing to listen.

These stories are long and confronting, so take care when you read this report. Linger on the karakia at the front of each booklet, feel the mana within the witness statements, learn what abuse and neglect looks like in all its forms, and encourage others to do the same, so that no New Zealander faces these horrors again.

It’s the same sentiment present in Te Pāti Māori’s Debbie Ngarewa-Packer’s call for an apology from Peters over his mindless use of an ableist slur in parliament, a place that has allowed a culture of abuse and neglect to thrive, where leaders of ministerial departments that have willingly swept survivors’ stories under the rug decide on the future of Aotearoa. “The history of the word ‘retarded’ is bad enough to be hearing in this House, in fact people have endured years of abuse because of that very name,” Ngarewa-Packer said. “It is unparliamentary for a minister of that seniority, and age group, to be saying that in the House.” At speaker Gerry Brownlee’s request, Peters withdrew his word. If we don’t recognise what behaviours have led us here, we’ll never change.

‘Become a member to help us deliver news and features that matter most to Aotearoa.’
Lyric Waiwiri-Smith
— Politics reporter

Where to get help

Need to talk? Free call or text 1737 any time for support from a trained counsellor

Lifeline – 0800 543 354 (0800 LIFELINE) or free text 4357 (HELP)

Youthline – 0800 376 633, free text 234 or email talk@youthline.co.nz or online chat

Samaritans – 0800 726 666

Suicide Crisis Helpline – 0508 828 865 (0508 TAUTOKO)

Help (for survivors of sexual abuse) – 0800 623 1700

Male Survivors Aotearoa – 0800 044 334

Snap (Survivors network of those abused by priests)

Keep going!
The natural burial cemetery on the left; a traditional style on the right. Image design by Tina Tiller.
The natural burial cemetery on the left; a traditional style on the right. Image design by Tina Tiller.

SocietyJuly 25, 2024

‘Death is sad, it’s not bad’: Inside the natural burial movement in New Zealand

The natural burial cemetery on the left; a traditional style on the right. Image design by Tina Tiller.
The natural burial cemetery on the left; a traditional style on the right. Image design by Tina Tiller.

What is a natural burial and what’s the story behind them in Aotearoa? 

At the natural burial cemetery in Mākara, a young couple are soaking in the sun on the wooden bench seat overlooking a young forest of trees, recently planted, and admiring the sweeping valley view that rises up beyond the hillside. A lamb’s bleat floats up from the farmland down the valley and tūī swoop and sing in the mature section of the cemetery, where a medley of native trees are thriving.

As the first natural burial cemetery in Aotearoa, the Mākara site has paved the way for more New Zealanders to choose an environmentally friendly option for their death. 

In essence, a natural burial is about keeping to a set of principles to achieve an environmentally friendly death. Requirements of a natural burial include a shallow grave for optimum decomposition; using natural materials (like a coffin of untreated softwood); and a tree planted over the grave, with a wooden grave marker, instead of a monument.

The Mākara natural burial cemetery started in 2009 and sits on land adjacent to the traditional cemetery (you access it through the same road entrance). It’s laid out on sloping land and is home to approximately 500 graves with plenty of room for more. The cemetery will eventually become a living monument of woodland once all the trees have matured. 

It was instinct that told Mark Blackham, founder of Natural Burials NZ,  that some people might want to choose a burial that would connect their lives and bodies back to the earth and to the ecosystem. But in the late 90s in Aotearoa, a natural burial wasn’t an option and he didn’t know why. The experience of losing a child at birth prompted Blackham to start asking questions earlier than anyone would ever wish about natural burials and whether they could be a possibility for New Zealanders. 

Quickly he realised that New Zealand was far behind other countries like the UK who had adopted natural burials in the 90s, thanks to the work of organisations like the Natural Death Centre and individuals such as Cumbria Cemetery manager Ken West, who raised the notion of a woodland burial back in the 80s.

The newer part of the natural burial cemetery at Mākara. Photo by Claire Mabey.

Armed with information from the UK, and with the help of friends and like-minded supporters, Blackham started calling every council in New Zealand to ask if they’d consider opening a natural burial cemetery. In New Zealand then, and now, only councils can set up cemeteries, unless you’re a religion. “And we did consider that,” laughs Blackham. “You only needed 25 people to sign up or something like that. But in the end for us it was about choice. We didn’t want any barriers in the way of people being able to consider a natural burial option.”

There were plenty of barriers in the way of Blackham and friends trying to carve the option into the landscape of the funeral industry. “Every single council was a straight up ‘no’,” says Blackham. And the reason they gave was that cemeteries were trouble. For councils, cemeteries mean maintenance and complaints (headstones fall over, nature does what nature does and grass and weeds need to be mown and clipped back into place). 

“It was so hard,” laughs Blackham ruefully. New Zealand in the 90s was stuck with antiquated ideas of what a burial was and could be. The principle behind natural burials is that the body is returned to earth as quickly and cleanly as possible: there are no headstones to maintain or grasses to mow because the trees planted over the burial sites are destined to become a forest.

View from the bench set between the more mature side of the natural burial cemetery at Mākara, and the newer side. Photo by Claire Mabey.

After many years, and many different routes towards success, in 2008 Wellington City Council finally agreed to work with Blackham. But not without him having to spend his own money, and donated funds, to work through what a natural burial cemetery might look and feel like, and what the requirements would be. Part of the research involved talking to what is colloquially known as The Tennessee Body Farm. The Forensic Anthropology Centre at the University of Tennessee is used by the FBI, among others, to discover how exactly bodies decompose and in what conditions. 

There was also resistance, at first, from some within the funeral industry and associated businesses. “There are cost centres inside the funeral industry that were threatened by what we were proposing,” said Blackham. He remembers at public meetings that embalmers, monumental masons and some funeral directors would show up and oppose them, even mislead councils about the dangers of decomposing bodies (which Blackham could debunk thanks to his extensive and self-funded research). There is no legal requirement to embalm a body but most people, when faced with having to organise a funeral, don’t realise they have a lot more choice. 

Fiona King, funeral director at Broadbent and May, is passionate about natural burials. She is enthused when speaking about the beauty of the process and the environmental principles it enables. King, like Simon Manning (whom Blackham credits with being an early advocate among funeral directors, and an instinctive supporter of the right to have a natural burial option), was an early adopter, and whenever she receives a call from someone seeking her services she will offer cremation, traditional burial or a natural burial. “Some people mistakenly think I’m the only one who can offer a natural burial because I’m so passionate about it,” she says, “but any funeral director in the country can offer those options.”

The oldest part of the natural burial cemetery with mature trees.

Between 2008 and 2012 there were about five natural cemeteries set up around Aotearoa. Each one had to start from scratch, so Blackham found himself the unofficial expert at supporting councils on the ins and outs of what a natural burial requires and what a natural burial cemetery needs. “But after about 2013 there was a change of mood,” he says. “Councils started to call us up and ask for advice.”

These days, Blackham and friends are regularly fielding phone calls and email inquiries from members of the public curious about natural burials. “And I don’t want to let them down. I want to help people have a choice,” says Blackham, who holds down a full-time day job alongside his voluntary work. Part of the work, as he sees it, is changing attitudes towards death. “We’re the only animal that takes ourselves out of the ecosystem when we die,” he says. 

According to data from Wellington City Council, natural burials are catching on. In 2023, 13.23 per cent of burials were natural, which marks a slow but steady uptake. The majority of bodies these days are cremated, which is not great for the environment: when a body is burned its elements are turned into air pollutants. By contrast, in a natural burial the soil and the tree planted over the grave make quick work of the body and any coffin (untreated soft wood) and/or shroud (natural, untreated fibres) buried with it.

Fiona King says embalming is a common question when talking to clients about natural burials. The embalming fluid formaldehyde is a toxin and therefore is not part of the natural burial ethos. When people started to be able to travel more easily to attend funerals, embalming became normalised and necessary to preserve the body for viewing, explains King. 

Blackham says there is some evidence to show that it’s psychologically better for families to view a non-embalmed body. “The body doesn’t look like it’s asleep – it looks like it is dead,” he says. “What people need is to be prepared, and to have knowledge about what to expect. People need to know they have a lot more power in how they care for and bury their loved ones than they realise. Death is sad, it’s not bad,” he says.

The woodland path inside the oldest part of the natural burial cemetery.

Most people will call a funeral director when a family member dies. But people can actually manage their own burials if they want to (as described in this article on The Spinoff). “You can say you want the body to be at home for a couple of days, you can say you want to take the body to the grave,” says Blackham. 

According to Blackham, the main thing people need to understand is what to expect from a body that has died. “If you’re psychologically and practically ready, it’s not a great challenge,” he says, though it can help to have someone removed from the closest family, and ideally someone familiar with bodies (such as a nurse or care worker) to assist. When he talks about a family he helped manage their own natural burial, he is audibly moved: “It was so admirable, and heartening, and inspiring.” 

Blackham is passionate that we should have the option to manage our own deaths, and our own burials. He describes some alarm when, during Covid, the Ministry of Health reviewed the 1964 Burial Act, an aspect of the review was to look at a suggestion that only funeral directors could manage burials. But for Blackham that would have been a regressive move to embed into the system the idea that we can’t manage these fundamental parts of living ourselves.

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— Production editor

For Blackham, King and other supporters of the natural burial movement, it’s about mental health as much as it is about the environment. “We have the capacity to deal with death,” says Blackham. “It’s just that our processes and cultural understanding is stuck in the 1800s.”

Blackham sees the impact of his work on the funeral industry at large. When he first started to ask questions about natural burials, nobody manufactured natural caskets. They were all particle chip and veneer and plastic handles. He had to seek out cabinet makers and convince them to make caskets as a side hustle so he could point people towards them. Others started to see that it was something they could do, and now, 20-odd years later, every manufacturer, even mainstream casket makers, offer a natural option which can be used in both traditional and natural burials.

Likewise, there is a fledgling shroud industry popping up. King says they are an increasingly popular option. “There is nothing freaky about carrying a shrouded body,” says Blackham, “but we’re not used to it, so it’s not normalised yet.”

For anyone curious about natural burials, here is a summary of the principles and the pragmatics. With thanks to Mark Blackham and Natural Burials, and Fiona King at Broadbent and May.

What is a natural burial?

The principle of a natural burial is that the body, and everything it is buried in, returns to earth as quickly and as cleanly as possible in order to avoid polluting the environment with our deaths and instead provide nutrients. When you sign up for a natural burial you sign a “pledge” that you will adhere, as much as you can, to the requirements, which include:

  • A shallow grave: in natural burial sites bodies are buried at around 50 cm which is the depth at which decomposition works best, and fastest. The lower the body, the slower the decomposition process. In traditional burials, bodies are buried at six feet, but more bodies (for example, family members) can be stacked in the one grave and so end up being shallower. There is no law or scientific basis for deeper burials.
  • The body is not embalmed: in traditional burials, bodies are embalmed using the carcinogenic chemical formaldehyde which can leach into the soil and pollute it.
  • The body is (ideally) buried without artefacts: because the principle of a natural burial is to avoid any pollutants and non-biodegradable materials, bodies are ideally buried without metals (like jewellery). However, Blackham and King both say that of course sometimes artefacts are meaningful and important for families (for example, a child’s toy). Natural Burials are about mental health as well as environmental health so these guidelines are guides, not regulations. 
  • The body is buried in a certified coffin or shroud: in New Zealand there is a list of approved coffins and biodegradable shrouds to be used in natural burial sites. The idea is that the material will also return to earth quickly and without introducing chemicals to the soil. This means there will ideally be no handles on the coffin and the wood will be untreated, sustainably grown soft wood. Shrouds also need to be biodegradable and made from natural fibres, like those made by Ake Ake Shrouds which is a certified maker for natural burial sites in Aotearoa. 
  • Instead of a monument like in traditional cemeteries, a tree is planted: In New Zealand there is a list of approved indigenous trees for families to select from to plant over the grave of their dead. Natural burial cemeteries become, in effect, forests or gardens that can be attractive, active sites for the living. Biodegradable gravemarkers (like wooden posts) can be placed on the grave site.

Can bodies that received toxic treatment (like chemotherapy) while alive be buried in natural cemeteries?

Yes. However, people need to be aware that bodies that have received treatments such as chemotherapy tend to break down rapidly after death which reduces the  window available for viewing between death and burial. 

Who is doing all this certifying? 

Natural Burials (started by Mark Blackham) is a voluntary organisation that has, over 25 years, researched and compiled a set of ideal requirements for a natural burial in an effort to achieve clarity and consistency for Aotearoa natural cemeteries and the Councils that run them. There is no legal basis for the requirements but they are guidelines to help Councils and families adhere to the principles of a natural burial.

Where are natural burial cemeteries?
There is a list online at the Natural Burials website. There are 13 certified natural burial cemeteries, and seven uncertified ones (meaning they might not be consistent with Natural Burial protocols). 

Pros of a natural burial

If you are environmentally minded, a natural burial offers the option to have a positive impact on the environment.

Natural burial cemeteries are beautiful spaces for people to enjoy: they are essentially forests that foster the living (birds, plants, people).

For Councils, they require less maintenance. Paul Andrews, WCC manager Parks, Sport and Recreation, says the Mākara natural burial cemetery needs preliminary upkeep to enable easy access for burials and to care for the young trees planted over each site until they are established. After that, the vegetation is allowed to develop and the only ongoing maintenance is pest weeds and animal control which is routinely carried out in the Council’s forest areas.

In comparison, maintenance requirements are much higher in traditional cemeteries,” he says, “either in the upkeep of paved or mown pathways between burial plots or in the regular mowing of the large, grassed areas in lawn cemeteries. Over time, as families cease to tend burial plots (although families are responsible for the maintenance), the community tends to expect the Council to take over at least some of that maintenance by default, adding to the long-term maintenance costs.” 

Andrews also notes that natural burials help to reduce the rate at which cemetery land is used up, because they can work well on steeper land that is unsuitable for traditional burials and cemetery layout: “Finding suitable and affordable land for cemeteries is a challenge in Wellington and most parts of the country.” 

Cons of a natural burial

Fiona King explains that, for some, the lack of ability to stack burials is an issue. In traditional cemeteries, families can be buried in the same grave site. This is achieved by stacking: the first person is buried deep, and the next buried on top. This isn’t possible in a natural burial cemetery due to the need for a shallow grave. It’s also not possible to pre-plot grave sites in a natural burial cemetery. For some families this is a problem, as they might want family members to be buried next to each other. 

King also says that some families need a monument which is also not possible in a natural burial cemetery. Instead, wooden markers (which are still able to be named and inscribed) are placed on the burial site. Over time they do wear down and decompose, but that does take a long time. King says that grave visitations decline after about five years. 

Cost of a natural burial

The cost of a natural burial is approximately the same as a traditional burial, though the cost of the grave site might be slightly more (by a couple of hundred dollars), depending on the cemetery. The total costs based on Wellington City Council comparisons are:

Adult plot on plaque lawn: $2,615 
Denominational areas: $3,251
Natural burial: $3,434

Families may end up spending more on natural burials compared to traditional burials where you can stack burials in the same grave site. A second interment costs $1,250 (Wellington City Council cost) but in a natural burial you’d be paying the above ($3,434) again. 

Further information

Here is a useful Q&A on the Natural Burials website; and a fact sheet by Wellington City Council. 
There is a book on natural burials available also from the Natural Burials website for $22.
Broadbent and May have a useful summary and guide to natural burials on their website.
Natural Burials has a summary of research page which offers external books and websites for further reading.