134. A number of factors have caused or contributed to abuse and neglect at Hokio Beach School (Hokio School) and Kohitere Boys’ Training Centre (Kohitere Centre) and allowed it to persist over many decades.

135. The Inquiry has divided these factors into four categories: personal factors, institutional factors, structural factors and systemic factors, and societal factors. All of these factors are inter‑related.

People at the centre of abuse and neglect

Factors for entry into care became factors for abuse and neglect in care

136. Many of the circumstances that made it more likely for a child or young person would enter Hokio School or Kohitere Centre often became the factor for why they were more susceptible to abuse and neglect in care.

137. These factors included:

a. being raised in poverty and experiencing deprivation
b. being Māori and racially targeted
c. being Pacific and racially targeted
d. experience of mental distress with unmet needs
e. experiencing sign or multiple adverse childhood events

i. experiencing or witnessing violence, abuse and neglect at home or other care settings
ii. having a family member pass away or attempt to die by suicide
iii. aspects of their environment undermine their sense of safety, stability and bonding such as:

· growing up with parents experiencing substance use problems,
· growing up with parents suffering mental distress
· growing up with instability due to parental separation or incarceration

f. having a deferential attitude to people in positions of authority, including faith leaders and medical professionals
g. other reasons such as age or gender
h. experiencing or being any combination of the above.

Children and young people lacked agency and autonomy

138. Children and young people lacked autonomy over their lives while in care. This imbalance of power existed at all levels. The State had the power to remove children and young people from their families and place them in the institutions. Staff at both Hokio School and Kohitere Centre held power over children and young people, enforcing regimented routines, harsh physical discipline and abuse. Former Kohitere Centre staff member Gary Hermannson told the Inquiry there was “inevitably an imbalance of power” between staff and children.[328]

139. Children and young people were largely powerless to stop the abuse they suffered. Even when they did speak out, they could be punished, not believed or the response was inadequate. The Inquiry heard from former staff members about the lack of voice or advocacy support for children and young people. Kohitere Centre teacher Ms SE told the Inquiry: “I felt the boys were never given a voice. They were treated unfairly with no respect …There was no-one there to bat for them.”[329]

140. NZ European survivor Mr SJ told the Inquiry that he didn’t speak out about the ongoing sexual abuse he suffered from the Hokio School head teacher because he was scared. This teacher was physically violent and threatened him, saying he would have to stay at the home for “a very long time” if he spoke up.[330]

Pākehā survivors were a minority which could make them a target for abuse

141. Pākehā survivors, as well as former staff members from both institutions, told the Inquiry that because they were the minority from the mid-1960s onwards, Pākehā children and young people were often subjected to more abuse from their peers.[331] Some Māori survivors also believed Pākehā could be more of a target[332] and that this was often instigated by staff.[333]

142. A former staff member acknowledged: “If you were a puny little Pākehā boy you were in trouble.”[334] NZ European survivor Earl White told the Inquiry:

“Being one of the only Pākehā kids there I received a whole lot of bullying by other boys ... I was called ‘honki’ and beaten around, punched in the head and kicked.”[335]

143. Survivor Brian Moody told the Inquiry that staff at Hokio School would get the Māori boys to beat up the Pākehā boys and the Pākehā boys to beat up the Māori boys.[336] The racism and discriminatory attitudes of staff was normalised and perpetuated by the children and young people. The racist attitudes bred in these institutions continued into later life for some. NZ European survivor Darren Knox said: “I put up with being told I was a white piece of shit and my life meant nothing.” He told the Inquiry his experience at Kohitere Centre left him with a lifelong hatred of Māori people.[337]

Peers targeted effeminate and weak boys

144. Weaker boys and those perceived as effeminate were often a target at both institutions.[338] Intersex survivor Sharyn, who had started menstruating by the time she was admitted to Kohitere Centre in the 1970s, told the Inquiry that because she was “obviously feminine”, she became a target of sexual abuse from the other boys.[339] A survivor from Hokio School described another child who would dress as a girl and was a ‘favourite’ for the other boys.[340] Māori survivor Hone Tipene (Ngāpuhi) told the Inquiry that he was bullied and abused by other boys at both settings who called him homophobic slurs.[341]

145. When boys did try to disclose abuse, they were told to toughen up and not be a sissy.[342] NZ European survivor Philip Laws reported sexual abuse by three other boys at Hokio School, who were subsequently placed in secure.[343] In his case file, the social worker wrote he “had advertised his previous homosexual experience” and that they would monitor his behaviour moving forward,[344] implying he was culpable in his own abuse.

Age was a factor in abuse

146. Survivors told the Inquiry they were abused by the older, bigger boys.[345] Pākehā / Māori survivor Toni Jarvis (Ngāi Tahu, Ngāti Kahungunu, Ngāti Toa Rangatira) was only 9 years old when he went to Hokio School, and as the smallest boy he was constantly physically and sexually abused by the older boys. He told the Inquiry he was raped around 200 times:

“I was first sodomised by an older Pākehā boy. He groomed me with lollies. He had paid for the lollies using the pocket money we could earn as part of the rewards system.”[346]

147. Māori survivor Mr FI (Ngāti Kahungunu, Ngāti Porou) told the Inquiry what happened when older boys were housed at Hokio School because of a lack of space at Kohitere Centre:

“These older boys … would take us younger boys to a hidden spot at the back of the school and they would make us have sex with each other while they would watch. If you didn’t do what the older boys told you to do, they would beat you.”[347]

148. There was the potential for significant age and size differences between the boys, with some older boys over six feet tall. Before 1958, the youngest child admitted to Kohitere Centre was 12 years old and the eldest at discharge was almost 20 years old. From 1958 to 1968, the youngest child admitted was 10 years old and the eldest at admission was 18 years old.[348]

Age was a factor in abuse

149. Both institutions had abusers who abused many children and young people. Many perpetrators were staff. Peers also abused peers at Hokio School and Kohitere Centre.

150. There were several prolific sexual abusers at Hokio School. John Drake, who worked at Hokio School in the 1950s and 1960s, had multiple confirmed allegations of sexual abuse made against him.[349] He moved to Holdsworth School in the 1970s where he continued to sexually abuse children and young people.[350]

151. A visiting Catholic priest, Father Brian Kelly, allegedly sexually abused four Catholic boys at Hokio School from 1959 to 1961. The abuse often took place in a small room where he took confession.[351]

152. In the 1970s, two Hokio School staff members, the cook Michael Ansell and a housemaster, Maahi Tukapua, were convicted of sexually assaulting multiple victims. These perpetrators are discussed in more detail later in this chapter.

Bystanders ignored abuse

153. Survivors told the Inquiry that staff (bystanders) knew of the abuse taking place[352] but they would not take steps to address it.[353] Māori survivor Mr SB described an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ attitude at Hokio School: “The staff knew what was happening but as long as they didn't see it, it would just continue to happen.”[354] NZ European survivor Mr BY, who was sexually abused by another boy at Kohitere Centre, told the Inquiry: “The staff weren’t interested in hearing about it and there was no complaints system.”[355]

154. A former Hokio School senior social worker said he sometimes wouldn’t punish or acknowledge bullying, as this could result in retribution for the victim.[356] Another social worker from Hokio School said staff were aware that boys were physically abusing new arrivals on the sand dunes, so would avoid the area.[357] He described management as having their “heads in the sand”, because they took no responsibility for the abuse that was happening there.[358]

Institutional factors that caused or contributed to abuse and neglect

A culture of violence contributed to abuse and neglect

155. Survivors described Hokio School and Kohitere Centre as places of extreme violence, where abuse, fights and bullying were part of the culture. Survivors said violence was normalised and that they eventually became desensitised to it.[359] They became abusive themselves, to be ‘hard’ or fight back[360] as a way of protecting themselves. Niuean and Māori survivor Mr VV (Ngāpuhi) told the Inquiry that by the time he arrived at Kohitere Centre, after being at three other boys’ homes: “I was really institutionalised. I was the one dishing out the violence, because I had learned what to do at all the other institutions."[361]

No-narking culture contributed to abuse

156. There was a strict no-narking culture at both institutions. This meant much of the abuse went undetected or was not dealt with. Survivors learned quickly they had to endure the abuse and stay silent. NZ European survivor Mr PF told the Inquiry: “I learnt that in a place like Hokio you never narked, you had to suck it in, choke on it and vomit when they weren't looking.”[362]

157. Disclosing abuse could lead to further abuse or punishment. Māori survivor Mr SK recalled being attacked after reporting a sexual assault by another survivor at Kohitere Centre: “My pants were taken off and something or someone entered me. I remember that the guys were saying, ‘fucken nark’ and ‘you narked on [survivor]’”.[363]

158. NZ European survivor Desmond Hurring described how when he complained to staff about abuse at Kohitere Centre: “They set me up to be stomped by other boys and took away my privileges.”[364] Another survivor said that sometimes if a child did something a staff member didn’t like, they would the tell other children that boy had narked, knowing he would be punished.[365]

159. A Kohitere Centre senior counsellor described staff responses to peer-on-peer abuse as reactionary and said there was no attempt to develop a long-term strategy for minimising bullying among the boys.[366]

Staff used the kingpin system and other children and young people as a form of control

160. Deputy Principal Mike Doolan detailed “an alternative form of management” among the boys at Kohitere Centre and that “staff used that alternative structure as part of their own control mechanism”.[367] He attributed this to untrained staff out of their depth and working under “uncompromising bosses … who didn’t want the place to get out of their control”.[368] Other Kohitere Centre staff acknowledged the informal “kingpin system”[369] and said it was exploited by staff. Senior residential social worker Mr PY said:

“The kingpin culture at Kohitere was very big and used by staff positively and negatively. I challenged Tom Woulfe at one stage about him legitimising the kingpin structure by making some of the more violent kingpins members of the student council.”[370]

161. A Kohitere Centre senior counsellor said he felt as though the boys were in control and that staff allowed them to run the place.[371] Survivors from Kohitere Centre confirmed that the staff used the kingpin system to control the children and young people.[372]

162. If a child misbehaved, staff would sometimes inflict group punishments knowing that the child would be beaten up afterwards.[373] For example, a Hokio School staff member described how, if a child ran away, the whole wing would be in trouble: “So when a kid came back – he’d answer to the other kids as well.”[374] Sometimes boys from Hokio School would be told to hunt down an absconder and that everyone would be punished later.[375] A survivor from Hokio School said: “Can you imagine what happened to that person when he’d be found?”[376]

Recruitment and vetting were inadequate

163. Many staff did not have prior experience working with children and young people. While some were former teachers, others came from trades, given the focus at Kohitere Centre on workforce training. The lack of specialist staff adequately trained to support children and young people with complex behavioural needs and past trauma contributed to further neglect.

164. There were some Māori staff members at both institutions, but the majority of managers were Pākehā, despite most boys being tamariki and rangatahi Māori from the mid-1960s onwards. This was likely a contributing factor to cultural neglect.

165. Some staff came from the military.[377] While at least one survivor saw this as a positive attribute,[378] these staff members could be violent and militaristic.[379] Hokio School Māori survivor Mr GV (Ngāpuhi) told the Inquiry that ‘regimental’ staff treated children and young people as if they were in the army.[380] A visiting psychiatrist to Kohitere Centre described some of the staff as aggressive, authoritarian and confrontational.[381]

166. A lack of vetting also contributed to abuse. Until 1976, there was no centralised NZ Police database collating prior convictions. Evidence shows that prior to the late 1970s, the institutions largely relied on the honesty of applicants in relation to disclosing criminal convictions.[382] Even after NZ Police introduced a vetting policy in 1978, the Department of Social Welfare could only access this information as it related to adoptions and foster parents.[383] By 1978, two former staff members from Hokio School had been convicted of sexually abusing children and young people at the residence.

167. A lack of appropriate vetting of untrained staff coupled with a lack of cultural knowledge left boys exposed to abuse and neglect.

Lack of safeguarding measures in place to protect children and young people

Inadequate supervision allowed abuse to occur undetected

168. There was consistent understaffing throughout the operation of Hokio School and Kohitere Centre. Both usually had more children and young people than they were designed for. These two factors created an unsafe environment where abuse was able to occur. It also meant children and young people were often unsupervised, which made abuse more likely.[384] Pākehā / Māori survivor Toni Jarvis (Ngāi Tahu, Ngāti Kahungunu, Ngāti Toa Rangatira) told the Inquiry that he was abused whenever the older boys could isolate him.[385] He told the Inquiry they would time their assaults to be between the Hokio School night watchman’s checks.[386] NZ European survivor Ms HJ told the Inquiry that there was “no night-time supervision” at Kohitere Centre so this was when they were raped by other boys.[387]

169. In 1977, the Kohitere Centre principal described the night staff resourcing as totally inadequate: “Two men totally separated for most of the night completely responsible for up to 112 of the most difficult teenagers in the country.”[388] The requirement to check on boys in secure once an hour was described as ‘impossible’.[389]

170. One Kohitere Centre staff member said inadequate staffing levels meant it was impossible to supervise the three different wings and this contributed to peer abuse.[390] A sexual assault of two young people by four other boys at Kohitere Centre was likely have happened due to “inadequate supervision”.[391] When two boys attempted suicide on the same night, the Kohitere Centre principal attributed it to a lack of staff in the secure wing.[392]

171. Survivors were abused by staff who took advantage of the lack of supervision.[393] NZ European survivor Mr UD was sexually abused by a Kohitere Centre staff member while painting the dormitories: “Unlike today where you'd have to have two people supervising, in those days it was just him alone with the boys.”[394]

172. Survivors told the Inquiry that staff would take boys to the isolated dunes to commit abuse.[395] Survivors told the Inquiry they were also abused by other boys on the sand dunes. Samoan survivor Mr CE told the Inquiry this was because they were well hidden from the residence: “A lot of the violence and sickening behaviour took place over the sand dunes because you were out of sight from the staff there.”[396] Staff members interviewed by the Ministry of Social Development acknowledged that the sand dunes were a place where abuse happened and where children and young people were unsupervised.[397]

Off-site unsupervised visits with staff and other adults led to abuse

173. Staff at Hokio School appeared to be aware of, and consented to, children and young people going on unsupervised visits to men’s homes.[398] One former staff member recalled seeing boys at the house of Hokio School cook Michael Ansell, who was later convicted of child sexual abuse. He stated that Ansell enjoyed taking boys off the property, but no-one thought anything of it at the time.[399]

174. A former Hokio School principal said there were no rules about children and young people being allowed in a staff member’s home and it was neither encouraged nor discouraged.[400] A survivor described how a housemaster at Hokio School took him to his “separate staff quarters to watch television” before sexually abusing him.[401]

175. In 1986, several survivors from Kohitere Centre were sexually abused by photographer and filmmaker Mike Walker,[402] who was ‘mates’ with the principal of Kohitere Centre.[403] Boys would be approved for day and overnight ‘casting’ visits with Walker. Māori / Cook Islands survivor Jovander Terry (Ngāti Raukawa) described going to his house multiple times, one of which lasted a weekend.[404] Jovander told the Inquiry that during these visits, Mr Walker took naked photographs of him:

“While I was posing, [he] touched my penis to try to move it into certain positions ... At the time I did not realise I was being groomed by him. I realise this now. I feel ashamed about what he did.”[405]

176. Former staff member Mr PY described the photos as ‘beautiful’ though “very inappropriate” and that he thought the boys were proud of the pictures.[406] This minimises the fact an adult man was able to take near-naked pictures of boys and ignores the power imbalance between them.[407] According to Mr PY, an NZ Police investigation was instigated after staff saw the photos. Mr PY said nothing ‘sinister’ was uncovered and to his knowledge no boys had complained about the pictures. As far as Mr PY is aware, nothing further was done.[408] This shows a reliance on the outcome of NZ Police investigations and a failure of both NZ Police and the institution.[409]

Lack of social worker and family visits limited opportunities to disclose abuse

177. Social workers were required to visit a child or young person in social welfare institutions at least every four months, and preferably more frequently.

178. Hokio School and Kohitere Centre were national institutions, which meant that children and young people came from all over Aotearoa New Zealand. A child’s family and / or social worker could be as far away as the South Island.[410] The distance and cost of travel meant it could be difficult for families to visit.[411] Some survivors told the Inquiry they never saw their families while there.[412] Māori survivor Mr SB told the Inquiry:

“There were four of us boys … that were never allowed to go home at all. They said they couldn't get hold of our families, but I think that was just lies.”[413]

179. Social worker visits of state wards were meant to be a critical intervention point to prevent abuse and neglect in care. Minimum visitation were set in 1957. Evidence shows that the visitation of at least once every four months was never met. However, survivors told the Inquiry they were never visited by their social worker.[414] Māori survivor Hohepa Taiaroa (Ngāti Apa, Ngāti Kahungunu) told the Inquiry:

“When I was in trouble they always showed up, but when I needed them, no-one came. I must have been the one who fell through the cracks.[415]

180. A former residential social worker told the Inquiry that field social workers would visit the boys at Kohitere Centre once or twice a year.[416] Many survivors did not mention their social workers at all in their accounts to the Inquiry, other than their involvement in taking them into care. A lack of social worker or family visits meant survivors had limited opportunities to disclose their abuse to someone independent of the institution.

Institutions failed to respond adequately to allegations of abuse

181. When survivors came forward to disclose abuse, they were often dismissed, had their allegations ignored, or even seen as culpable in the abuse. Survivors told the Inquiry that staff threatened them to keep them quiet. For much of the Inquiry period, children and young people were not believed when they disclosed abuse and the testimony of adults was seen as more reliable.[417] Some said they wrote letters home,[418] to their social worker[419] and to the Director-General[420] about the abuse but suspected that staff were reading their mail. Some survivors told the Inquiry they felt there was no use in complaining as nothing would be done.[421]

182. NZ European survivor Mr A told the Inquiry when he reported his abuse at Hokio School to his social worker, he was called a liar and told to “'toughen up”.[422] Another survivor was told he “deserved it” because he did not try and stop the sexual abuse after the first time it happened.[423]

183. Even when management acknowledged abuse had taken place, they failed to take preventative steps or hold staff accountable, such as reporting them to NZ Police.[424] They were often allowed to continue in their role,[425] or asked to resign but not reported to NZ Police.[426] In another instance, there were multiple allegations by different young people during the early 1980s of physical abuse by forestry instructor Paul Tatana.[427] The allegations were recorded, and Tatana was issued warnings,[428] but he was never removed from his position. Rather, he continued to receive high ratings for his work performance and was even promoted.[429]

184. Staff also had little ability to make complaints. Ken Cutforth, a recreation officer at Hokio School and Kohitere Centre, told the Inquiry: “there was not really a process for staff raising concerns. It felt like within the structure we were working in you couldn’t really complain.”[430] This was confirmed by teacher Ms SE.[431]

Systemic factors that caused or contributed to abuse and neglect

Silencing of staff and covering up complaints

185. The Inquiry received evidence of senior staff and the Department of Social Welfare retaliating against more junior staff for complaining. Ms PD, a social work supervisor at Kohitere Centre raised concerns with the principal about staff treatment of boys, but her concerns were dismissed.[432] Ms PD also wrote to the Director-General of Social Welfare with details of the assaults.[433] The principal was informed of her complaint and he was “screaming and shouting at me asking me why the hell I had written the report”.[434] Ms PD resigned after head office told her to leave because of what she wrote.[435]This was not the first time a staff member lost their job for speaking up. In 1977, a domestic staff member wrote to her local Member of Parliament about boys being allowed to make unsupervised evening visits to the photographer and filmmaker Walker. The woman was subsequently ‘sacked’[436] and labelled as “a gossip” by the principal.[437] Walker went on to abuse boys from Kohitere Centre in the 1980s.

186. In a letter to the Human Rights Commission in 1980, staff member Ken Cutforth raised concerns about the practice of transferring staff who had allegations of abuse against them.[438] One case was Brian Zygadlo, who was accused of indecent assault by three girls at Palmerston North Girls’ Home, where he was superintendent.[439] In response, the Director-General of Social Welfare requested, and was granted, approval from the State Services Commission to transfer Zygadlo to Hokio School. This was considered the least disruptive to his career[440] despite the conclusion that “Mr Zygadlo is not particularly suitable social worker material”.[441].

187. Zygadlo was the subject of nine allegations of abuse – six of which relate to the time after his transfer, including three sexual abuse allegations at Hokio School,[442] and three subsequent physical abuse allegations at Epuni Boys’ Home and Stanmore Boys’ Home.[443]

188. Staff also had little ability to make complaints. Ken Cutforth, a recreation officer at Hokio School and Kohitere Centre, told the Inquiry: “There was not really a process for staff raising concerns. It felt like within the structure we were working in you couldn’t really complain.” [444] This was confirmed by teacher Ms SE.[445]

Inadequate response to proven allegations of abuse: Maahi Tukapua

189. Maahi Tukapua was a housemaster at Hokio School from November 1971 and physically and sexually assaulted many boys during this time. Deputy principal at the time, Mike Doolan, later stated: “Just about the whole population had been interfered with in some way or another.”[446]

190. Niuean / Māori survivor Mr VV (Ngāpuhi) reported being sexually abused by Maahi Tukapua to a staff member at Hokio School, who asked if he was hurt, and when he said no, was told not to worry about it.[447]

191. In February 1972, a 13 year old boy made detailed allegations of sexual abuse by Tukapua.[448] The following day he was left alone at the police station without a support person, and eventually retracted his statement. He was described as leaving the police station in a “distressed state”.[449] Management did not punish Tukapua in any way. If staff had supported the boy when he went to NZ Police, or taken further action after this, it could have prevented further abuse.

192. Tukapua was also known to be physically abusive, using excessive force to ‘control’ children and young people.[450] In April 1972, three months after the retracted sexual abuse allegations, Tukapua was witnessed punching and kicking two boys who had been fighting in the dining room. In reporting the incident, deputy principal Mike Doolan wrote to the principal:

“If it happens again, and I am sure it will, I feel l will have no option but to suspend him from duty until you are available. I was tempted to do so today, but was unsure of my ground, or … the correct procedure.”[451]

193. It is not clear if the incident was reported to the superintendent as required, but Tukapua continued working at Hokio School.[452] In fact, a reference letter for Tukapua written in July 1972 by Mike Doolan, then deputy principal (and later chief social worker), described him as having “considerable potential” and “a natural ability to relate well with others”.[453] Three months later, Tukapua was dismissed and convicted of sexually abusing multiple boys.[454] There was no follow up investigation or support offered to any of the children and young people involved.[455] Management’s failure to adequately respond to these earlier multiple incidences of abuse directly contributed to Tukapua continuing to perpetrate abuse.

194. After Tukapua was charged, Principal Keith North tried to protect the reputation of Hokio School by seeking (and being granted) an order suppressing any evidence that might identify the institution where the abuse took place.[456]

195. In 2011, more allegations came to light after Tukapua was counselled by chaplain Ross Campbell. During this counselling, Tukapua revealed he had sexually abused up to 300 victims, 130 of whom were believed to have been at Hokio School. According to the Child, Youth and Family worker who spoke to Mr Campbell, when Mr Campbell took these allegations to NZ Police, they declined to investigate.[457]

196. The Inquiry was advised by Victoria Police in Australia that in 2021 Tukapua was convicted of sexual assault of children in Australia and imprisoned, where he remained until his death that same year.

Inadequate response to proven allegations of abuse: Michael Ansell

197. Michael Ansell worked at Hokio School from 1973 until October 1976. Ansell targeted and isolated young boys, then sexually abused them.[458] This often took place at Ansell’s off-site house near the residence.[459] Samoan survivor David Williams (aka John Williams) said that if Ansell called a boy to work in the kitchen, other children knew what was going to happen and “there was nothing we could do for the poor bugger”.[460] NZ European survivor Earl White described the abuse:

“When we went to his house, he would take boys into his bedroom … it was always the same thing, masturbating me and I would be made to then do the same to him.”[461]

198. Survivors told the Inquiry that after they disclosed sexual abuse by Ansell, staff members made threats towards them while holding a broken pool cue: “They threatened that anyone who made false allegations about a staff member would be shipped to the Kohitere Centre Secure Block or would be severely dealt to.”[462]

199. Eventually in 1976, after three boys came forward and disclosed abuse, Ansell admitted to the allegations and was ‘allowed’ to resign. The school did not see fit to dismiss him. A letter from the acting principal reporting his resignation clearly shows that staff saw survivors as complicit in the abuse. He wrote that three boys had been “involved most intimately with Mr Ansell” via “mutual masturbation, anal intercourse and other forms of sexual misbehaviour”.[463] He described the boys’ reluctance in coming forward as they “had established a very close relationship” with Ansell.[464] Even the NZ Police report detailing the allegations described the boys as “willing parties” in the abuse.[465] Framing the sexual abuse in this way failed to acknowledge grooming behaviour and that the boys had been manipulated and abused by an adult in a position of power.

200. Ansell was convicted of eight indecent assault charges involving the three boys. Evidence given in the White trial (discussed further in Chapter 6 of this report) suggested that even though staff were aware of allegations of sexual abuse and anal rape,[466] the more serious offences may not have been reported to NZ Police, as Ansell was only convicted of indecent assault.[467] The acting principal said that, as no other boys had come forward, they assumed there were no other victims.[468] However, because of the strong no-narking culture and the way complaints were treated, it is certain survivors would have chosen to stay silent. NZ European survivor Earl White (one of the brothers in the White trial) did not find out Ansell had been convicted until he was an adult.[469] Given that this was the second staff member to be convicted of sexual abuse within four years, it is hard to understand why management, and the Department of Social Welfare, didn’t appear to take the abuse more seriously.

201. Ansell had a prior conviction of sexual assault before his employment at Hokio School,[470] but this was neither disclosed nor discovered at the time he was hired.[471] Had children at Hokio School’s complaints of sexual abuse by Ansell been properly investigated prior to him being arrested, the Department of Social Welfare could have discovered that he had convictions for sexual abuse. Not only could subsequent abuse have been prevented, but more efforts could have been made to see if he had abused other boys.

Societal factors that caused or contributed to abuse and neglect

Attitudes towards children and young people were that they were ‘delinquent’ and untrustworthy

202. Survivors told the Inquiry that staff would often see them as ‘bad’ kids[472] and not deserving of love and care. Children and young people were described in their case files as dishonest or as outright liars.[473] These descriptions may have influenced the way in which staff treated allegations of abuse by children and young people. NZ European survivor Robert Zane Thomson said:

“The assumption was that you were damaged before you came into care. I wasn't damaged when I came into care. The damage occurred because of how I was treated when I came into care.”[474]

203. A staff memo following the hospitalisation of a boy at Kohitere Centre after an attempted overdose gives a good indication of dismissive attitudes: “This was not a serious suicide attempt ... Rather, this was a manipulative act by a disturbed and calculating youth.”[475]

204. Former social worker Mr PY said some staff in the secure unit had no “vision of hope for some of the young people”.[476] Pacific survivor Mr RX agrees:

“In the past when I have read information held about me by the DSW, I recall a comment saying ‘there is nothing we can do for him’. This is something that should never be written about a child.”[477]

Disablism contributed to abuse and neglect of Deaf and disabled survivors

205. At least two Deaf survivors were admitted to Kohitere Centre, which was not an appropriate placement to meet their needs. Even in former senior social worker Mr PY’s description of a Deaf child, the onus appears to be on the Deaf child to communicate, rather than on the institution to help him be understood:

“He was physically strong and had outbursts, I think through not being understood and not being able to express himself … I think he could lip read, and he would try to talk, but he was very hard to understand.”[478]

206. The 1981 annual report for Kohitere Centre indicates that a Deaf specialist attended to the needs of a Deaf student, but this appeared to be a visiting, rather than a permanent, role.[479]

207. Māori survivor Mr FI (Ngāti Kahungunu, Ngāti Porou) told the Inquiry that he witnessed a staff member at Hokio School who had sexually assaulted him, also abusing a disabled survivor: “[He] was always taken advantage of by this housemaster because he was handicapped. [He] was a bit shy to ever say anything.”[480]

208. Of those survivors registered with the Inquiry who were at Hokio School and Kohitere Centre, 13 (6 percent) identified as disabled, most commonly with cognitive impairment or being neurodiverse.[481] However, it is likely the number of disabled survivors is much higher.