8. There were (and are) many different types of damaging impacts of abuse and neglect in care experienced across all settings. There were immediate impacts, that could be temporary or lasting. There were (and are) impacts endured throughout a lifetime. An impact could dissipate over time. An impact could reoccur, manifest sometime after the abuse or neglect had occurred, emerge later in life in response to events or triggers throughout a lifetime.

9. The impact(s) are experienced by survivors, as well as their whānau, kainga or family, support networks, hapū, iwi, or communities. The impact(s) could also have a profound impact on the children and grandchildren of a survivor.

10. The impacts of abuse or neglect rarely have a single dimension. Usually, a person will experience multiple impacts of abuse and neglect simultaneously. They could also experience them sequentially. Abuse and neglect may also be repeated over time, adding up to complex and severely harmful experiences during and after time in care. This means impacts were (and are) co-occurring where one type of impact of abuse or neglect will intersect with other impacts. Depending on the person, the intersection of impacts and its effects may occur in different ways.

11. This chapter describes the different types of impacts that were generally experienced by survivors across all settings.

Ngā hononga pāhekoheko Interpersonal relationships

12. One of the most severe impacts of abuse and neglect is the damaging effect it can have on a survivor’s ability to form and maintain intimate, platonic, loving and trusting relationships.

Ngā hononga taupiri
Intimate relationships

13. Many survivors of abuse and neglect described how the abuse and neglect they suffered reduced their capacity for affection and intimacy, often impacting their relationships with intimate partners. Survivors developed a distorted view of others, not knowing how to form healthy relationships or being able to trust. Some survivors described how the sexual abuse they suffered gave them a distorted view of sexual intimacy and taught them to use sex to control or manipulate others. Some survivors told how any type of sexual intimacy, even with their spouse or partner, would be triggering and traumatic.

14. Māori and Pākehā survivor Gloria White shared how her 30-year marriage ended because of the ongoing trauma of sexual abuse while in faith-based care. She told the Inquiry that while she still loves her husband, over time he started to remind her of one of her abusers, which ultimately led to divorce.

15. Some survivors had a number of abusive relationships as adults and accepted it as a feature of their adult relationships.

16. Survivor Jason Fenton, experienced sexual and physical abuse in his foster placement and in youth justice institutions, said the abuse has “had a major impact on my sexuality, relationships with women and others … I’ve had significant loss of dignity and also loss of morals and values, and I was robbed of my childhood.”[2]

17. The Commission to Inquire into Child Abuse in Ireland found that of a survey of survivors:

a. the majority of participants showed they had problems developing and maintaining satisfying intimate relationships
b. if survivors experienced more forms of severe abuse and other forms of abuse, then the negative impacts were compounding.

18. Some survivors told the Inquiry they experienced sexual disturbance or dysfunction. It includes a lack of desire or interest in sex, an inability to become physically aroused or excited during sexual activity, a delay or absence of orgasm, or pain during sexual intercourse. The effect of this impact could be depression and anxiety.

19. For some survivors, the ongoing impacts of sexual abuse are exhibited through sexualised speech or cursing focused on sexual behaviour, excessive touching of genitals in public or inappropriate places, or frequent sexual partners of all ages. Some of these survivors became, and continue to be, hyper-sexualised - developing unhealthy and excessive sexual relationships, pornography habits, and flirtatious behaviour that goes beyond inappropriate. Some survivors told the Inquiry they have a fear of being touched, confuse a kind touch or hug as an invitation to engage in sex, feel disgust towards their body, or specific body parts that were used by an abuser for arousal or sexual activity, have attempted to harm or injure those parts of their body affected by an abuser, or may have a lack of sexual interest in others. These survivors have exhibited, and some continue to exhibit, hypo-sexualisation.

Ngā hononga ki ngā mātua me ngā tūākana/tēina
Relationships with parents and siblings

20. The Inquiry heard that survivors’ relationships with their parents or siblings may have been damaged due to the abuse and neglect they suffered in care, especially if they disclosed the abuse to a family member and were not believed, or if the abuse and neglect were minimised, or if they were blamed for the abuse and neglect occurring. Some survivors may have found it difficult to discuss their abuse and neglect, especially sexual abuse, with their whānau, family or kainga, or siblings. These situations could make a survivor feel responsible for changes in whānau communication and dynamics and may cause loneliness and isolation.

21. Being in care often separated survivors from siblings who were also in care. Before being taken into care, many survivors had helped raise younger siblings, and being apart from these siblings caused significant worry and trauma.

22. The effect of being separated from close siblings caused survivors to feel guilt for what happened to their brothers and sisters during their time in care, as well as their later life. Separation had a profound impact on the close connections between siblings, a connection that was permanently destroyed. Many survivors spoke of how they have been estranged from their siblings for most of their lives.

Ngā hononga ki ngā tamariki me ngā mokopuna
Relationships with children and grandchildren

23. Survivors’ relationships with their children and grandchildren can be impacted too. Some survivors may fear that the sexual abuse they suffered may mean they might not be safe parents. Some survivors feel very protective of their own children and grandchildren and want them to be loved and to develop trusting relationships.

24. Abuse and neglect in childhood have intergenerational impacts. According to Dr Simon Rowley: “Although most children who have suffered neglect do not go on to neglect their own children, they have a vulnerability to do so. It is hard to provide nurture to your child or children when you have not known that nurture yourself.”[3]

25. Some survivors saw a connection between the impact of being abused and neglected in care and their lack of parenting ability, and that this affected their relationships with their children and later generations. Survivors talked about not knowing how to parent[4] and not having the chance to develop parenting skills.[5] Others spoke about not knowing how to nurture and provide emotional support[6] and struggling with communication and how to show affection towards their children and grandchildren.[7]

26. The Commission to Inquire into Child Abuse in Ireland found that abuse and neglect in care has negative and enduring impacts on survivors’ capacity to form stable, secure, and nurturing relationships.[8] Research also indicates that children raised with persistent violence are more likely to be violent.[9]

27. Hohepa Taiaroa, a Māori survivor who went on to become violent towards his family, explained that his behaviour was part of the “flow-on effects” from being in the system. When he left care, he was full of anger and hate that he would let out on anyone, including his whānau. He went on to have numerous relationships, and by the time he entered his third relationship, his partner and sons bore the brunt of his trauma.[10]

Ngā pāpātanga o te hauora ā-tinana
Physical health Impacts

28. Many survivors suffered physical injuries from extreme and severe violence, neglect and sexual assault, which had immediate and ongoing devastating effects on their health and wellbeing.

29. Many survivors suffered repeated physical injuries across various State and faith-based care settings. They were subjected to violence and the threat of violence in many of these care environments. Māori survivor Hone Tipene (Ngāpuhi) told the Inquiry that, during his first care placement at Wesleydale Boys’ Home in Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland at 9 years old, his fingers were crushed when a door was slammed on his hands. In a faith-based boarding school for Māori boys, his ribs were fractured, and toes broken, and at Ōwairaka Boys’ Home in Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland, another boy sliced his penis with a knife, and it bled for several days.[11] When he was 13 years old, he required hospital treatment for an infected welt to his face when assaulted with a jug cord by his family home caregiver.[12]

30. Many survivors spoke about being able to trace their current physical health conditions to the abuse and neglect suffered while in care.[13] The Inquiry heard of survivors with long-term head injuries, hearing loss, weight loss and inability to control their body due to medication abuse, cognitive impairment and brain haemorrhages resulting in the need for multiple surgeries.[14]

31. Survivors placed in psychiatric care spoke of the immediate and ongoing physical impacts from receiving electric shocks as punishment,[15] such as electrode burns,[16] tinnitus and memory loss.[17] Many survivors were wrongly given electric shocks at Lake Alice Child and Adolescent Unit in Rangitikei and other psychiatric care settings.[18]

32. Medication was administered to many survivors in these settings to control their behaviour. Since then, these survivors have developed chronic health conditions related to direct physical impacts like bowel damage.[19] Pacific survivor Rachael Umaga attributed her kidney failure to medication she was given in psychiatric care.[20] Samoan survivor Leota Scanlon said that after his time in Lake Alice Child and Adolescent Unit, he had to get two full hip replacements and struggles with arthritis, which he attributes to medical abuse, specifically paraldehyde injections.[21]

33. The neglect experienced by survivors in institutional care exacerbated other impacts of abuse. Some survivors who suffered physical abuse were medically neglected, and their injuries not treated, which made the injuries they suffered worse and the damage lifelong.[22] This was also true for children who were taken into care at a very young age, for example, babies in the Kimberley Centre in Taitoko Levin whose basic needs were taken care of, but they were denied love and caring.[23]

34. Some survivors see the stress and anxiety of the abuse and neglect they experienced as contributing factor to physical illnesses they developed later in life. These include cancer,[24] diabetes,[25] stomach ulcers[26] and strokes.[27] Some survivors, at times with supporting evidence from their medical advisors, spoke of the immediate impacts of abuse and neglect, such as unplanned pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases which, due to medical neglect, resulted in long-term illness including infertility and cancer.[28]

35. Many women were unable to have their own children due to the damage caused in institutional care.[29]

36. Engagement with survivors and their whānau or support networks during the Inquiry and previous inquiries revealed that people died while in care.[30] These deaths seemed more likely to occur in disability and mental health settings where people experienced gross neglect.[31]

37. The loss of life of those who were most vulnerable, who should have been afforded the greatest level of care, respect and support, speaks to the most devastating impact of physical abuse and neglect in care.

Te hauora ā-hinengaro me te oranga kare ā-roto
Mental health and emotional wellbeing

38. Survivors of abuse and neglect in care experience mental distress at a higher rate than the general population.[32] Mental health and emotional issues are the most reported negative impacts, with anxiety disorders, in particular, post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and depression, often reported to be the most commonly diagnosed among survivors of abuse and neglect in care.[33] These had long-term impacts on survivors’ lives. Expert witness Folasāitu Dr Apaula Julia Ioane stated that mental health issues like depression or anxiety are linked to fear.[34]

39. Almost every survivor the Inquiry heard from still experiences stressful and disruptive anxiety disorder challenges. Many survivors continue to experience ongoing mental distress or live with diagnosed mental health issues. Tāngata whaikaha Māori survivor Matthew Whiting, who was placed in care at 4 years old, said:

“When I get stressed now, I revert to being institutionalised ... I get into a place where I can’t back down, which isn’t helpful. In situations where I feel powerless, I respond with immense distress. It is completely overwhelming. This is the reality of living with PTSD as a disabled person.”[35]

40. As a consequence, some survivors are unable to work. Survivor Ms GT, who is hard of hearing, said she has been unable to work because of the severe anxiety she suffers after being abused in foster care. Due to the severity of their post-traumatic stress disorder, some survivors have also not been able to work.[36] Survivor Anne-Marie Shelley said:

“I am embarrassed at being unable to work, so I find it easier to not meet new people in social situations because they will inevitably ask “what do you do?”.[37]

41. Homai School for the Blind survivor Kylee Maloney said the biggest impact of how her life began, as well as her experience at Homai School located in Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland, has been loneliness:

“The knowledge that I am, and always will be an outsider is both liberating and painful. Liberating in the sense that this process has given me permission to try to reverse the habit of a lifetime and stop trying so hard to fit in and be acceptable; and painful because I long, like anyone else, to belong somewhere and be loved”.[38]

42. Studies have found that neglect, particularly from an early age, can have serious consequences for cognitive, linguistic, and emotional development, as well as physical growth and development.[39] Nellie Boynton, who was 13 years old when she was placed in care, said she felt like her development was stunted:

“I didn’t gain any maturity or independence while in care and even now I feel like I am stuck at the age I was when I was taken into care. It is like someone pressed pause on me. A lot of my reactions and emotions are the same as that of an adolescent.”[40]

43. Survivors are also constantly reminded of the abuse they have experienced. The mental health impacts of this involve being triggered by:

• the behaviours of others
• smells or odours (such as perfumes,[41] tobacco[42] and certain foods)[43]
• loud or distinct noises[44]
• long corridors or confined spaces[45]
• daily routine tasks such as catching the bus.[46]

44. Survivors may react by reverting back to feeling as they did while being abused, exhibit defensive and sometimes aggressive behaviours or become mentally distressed.

45. Many survivors have developed compensatory behaviours or coping strategies to function, self-soothe and block traumatic memories. These have included substance use and abuse and non-suicidal self-injury behaviours.[47] Many use alcohol and drugs to escape from intrusive memories of the abuse and neglect they had suffered.[48]

46. The Inquiry heard that some survivors were given drugs and alcohol while in care as children, sometimes to groom or silence them, and this played a part in their drug and alcohol use later in life.

47. Diagnosis of substance use is relatively common, and comparatively higher, among survivors of abuse and neglect in care, particularly for male survivors.[49] Similar research with the survivors who participated in the Scottish Child Abuse Inquiry found a prevalence rate of 36 percent for alcohol and drug use diagnoses among survivors versus a rate of 11 percent in international community samples.[50] Other research also suggests survivors of severe sexual abuse display higher rates of alcohol and substance abuse.[51]

48. Survivors describe the negative consequences of their drug and alcohol use, including increased contact with NZ Police and other criminal justice workers and an inability to care for their own children.[52] Survivor Toni Jarvis explained, “alcohol was a catalyst to bring the wrong things out in me”.[53] Survivor Desmond Hurring described how it led to him “pleading guilty to crimes I didn't commit because I couldn't remember what I was doing".[54]

49. Abuse and neglect affected survivors’ self-worth, which limited their opportunities in life. Mr OA told the Inquiry his time at Hodderville Boys’ Home and Training Farm (The Salvation Army) in Putaruru “stripped me of all my innocence, dignity, my self-belief and self-esteem. Hope was taken from me just like that.”[55]

50. Emotional impacts left many survivors ashamed, with eroded self-confidence and self-esteem. Many female survivors question whether something in their own behaviours caused sexual abuse to happen.[56] Despite knowing the abuse they suffered was not their fault, they still feel ashamed about it.

Ngā aukati ki te whakatipu hononga pai
Barriers to developing positive attachments

51. The ability of children, young people and adults in care to form and maintain trusted attachments is impacted by abuse and neglect in care.

52. Children, young people and adults in care need love and positive attachments to feel safe, to fully develop, to thrive, and to navigate the world with confidence and hope. Attachment is seen as a key milestone in child and young people’s development.[57] Survivors were deprived of this fundamental need and instead were separated from their whānau and communities and often exposed to abuse and neglect they should never have had to endure.

53. Multiple placements also erode and destabilise attachments, impacting both whānau and people in care. Continued relocation makes it difficult for biological parents and whānau to remain in contact with their child, young person or adult in care. This impact is often further compounded when parents must overcome geographical distances to reach their child,[58] leading, for some, to a loss of these relationships permanently.[59]

54. As a result of multiple care placements many survivors were subject to an ongoing cycle of trauma of living with uncertainty and having no stable family or whānau base. This approach to continuous multiple placements significantly impacted relationships with whānau. Associate Professor Dr Teuila Percival told the Inquiry about the importance of children having a continuous responsive relationship that offers safety and security and enables development and learning.[60] Ms EF, who was 9 years old when she went into care, said:

“When you go through 20 changes in your young life, living in different homes, you can’t tell me that you’ll be the person who you could have been. I never knew in advance where I was going to go. When I arrived somewhere, I never knew how long I was going to stay there. Even now, packing a bag to go away still brings up that anxiety. Every home you go in, you do things differently, and it changes from one home to another ... I would need to watch and learn to figure out how to slot into their life.”[61]

55. The combination of whānau not being allowed to visit and multi-placements meant children and young people were unable to form attachments with caregivers and, as a result, struggled throughout their lives to form healthy relationships and connections. Māori survivor Ms CH (Ngāi Tūhoe and Ngāti Raukawa), who experienced multiple placements as a baby and toddler, said:

“Trust and insecurity issues have always got in the way of my relationships. The abandonment and severed ties I experienced in my childhood carried throughout my life and into my relationships.

Allowing myself to love and be loved wasn’t easy. I found it hard to believe that anyone could love me, no matter how much attention they gave me. Dysfunctional relationships became an unwanted habit for me.”[62]

56. Residential care,[63] a key feature of most settings the Inquiry investigated, did not provide a physical or social environment to develop secure attachments.[64] Dr Sarah Calvert explained that a key feature of residential care is that there is no continuity of relationship and no formal sense of belonging.[65] Therefore, children and young people subjected to abuse and neglect in residential care “are likely to enter adult life even more likely to have adverse long-term mental health and to struggle to form and maintain healthy relationships with others”.[66]

57. Many survivors were cut off from their families, whānau, kainga, culture and wider communities. The impacts of this, particularly for Māori, Deaf, disabled, people experiencing mental distress, Pacific and Takatāpui, Rainbow and MVPFAFF+ communities are discussed later in this Part.

Te whakamomori me te whakaaro whakamomori
Suicide and suicidal ideation

58. The emotional pain from experiencing abuse and neglect in care has driven some people to the point of self-harm, suicidal ideation,[67] attempted suicide,[68] or suicide.[69] Survivors talked of using self-harm to manage distress.[70]

59. Survivor Denise Caltaux, who suffered abuse in psychiatric care, spoke of the lasting impacts of the abuse and experiences of suicidality:

“I’m so traumatised, I am unhappy – I have no sense of joy pretty much in my life, that I’m isolated from everybody, including my family. I’ve actually been so suicidal; I’m not feeling that at the moment, in the last couple of months, that sort of changed for me. But I was determined – like I really, really wanted to end my life.”[71]

60. Friends, and people survivors knew while in care, have taken their own lives, both within and after their time in care.[72] The survivors and family left behind felt sorrow, regret and sometimes anger and shared how the loss and unfairness of the situation left them with anger, guilt and immense sadness.[73]

He māramatanga Māori mō te tūkino ā-hinengaro
Māori understandings of psychological abuse

61. From an ao Māori understanding, psychological abuse not only impacted the psychological wellbeing of a survivor but also impacted their mana, tapu and mauri. For example, an act of whakaiti (belittling and humiliation) directly impacts the hauora hinengaro (wellbeing of the mind) of a person, but also directly transgresses against their mana and tapu and diminishes them in some way.

62. The effects of psychological abuse are described in Māori by the way in which they impact the abused, such as the terms patu hinengaro, meaning an attack on a person’s mental wellbeing, patu manawa, meaning a deep psychological attack that impacts a person’s feelings, and takahi mana meaning the trampling of a person’s mana. Psychological abuse may create all these impacts, and psychological impacts are often interconnected with all of these aspects including mana and manawa.

63. A common consequence of psychological abuse that the Inquiry heard from survivors is whakamā. The concept of whakamā is significant in this context, as it carries with it the associations of shame and embarrassment because of the humiliation received. Whakamā was understood to be a punishment for an act or behaviour that brought with it disgrace within Māori society.

64. The whakataukī (proverb) ‘waiho mā te whakamā e patu – Leave it to shame to be their punishment’, speaks to the power of the state of whakamā as a way of controlling behaviour and the importance of upholding tikanga associated with the mana of an individual and collective. Many Māori survivors shared examples of extreme whakamā being experienced because of the practices their abusers made them perform, as well as the constant tormenting, belittling and verbal abuse they were subjected to.

Ngā ara whai oranga
Life pathways

Te mātauranga me ngā āheinga whaimahi
Education and employment opportunities

65. Every child has a right, under Article 28 of the Convention on the Rights of the Child, to a full and proper education. Research demonstrates that abuse and neglect in care negatively affect survivors’ educational outcomes and subsequent employment – key determinants of socioeconomic wellbeing and personal wellbeing.[74]

66. The ability of many survivors to concentrate and learn was affected by ongoing physical and sexual abuse.[75] Many survivors were denied education opportunities and instead made to work in the care setting they were placed in or made to work in their foster or adoptive parents’ homes.[76]

67. Some survivors described missing out on education opportunities because of their gender.[77] Survivors spoke of feeling ridiculed and shamed at school because of their neurodiversity, such as dyslexia, which went undiagnosed and untreated, leaving them without support.[78] The impacts of failing to recognise neurodiversity in children followed survivors into adulthood. Survivor Andrea Richmond shared how this affected her employment opportunities as an adult:

“I’m also dyslexic so it’s really hard to get a job. I was never given any learning support for my dyslexia, and I struggle with reading and writing.”[79]

68. As a result of this lack of support and education, some survivors cannot read or write or can only read or write a little.[80] Survivors told the Inquiry how this has affected many aspects of their lives. Māori survivor Ms HA said:

“My daughter, she asks me stuff and lots of it I don’t know. I can’t help her with any of her homework or her schoolwork during lockdown … I really notice it when I have to fill out forms. I don’t know how to fill them out. I ask for help. But there is no one there to help you do it.”[81]

69. The profound impacts of educational neglect meant many survivors were less likely to gain or retain employment after care, which some described as lost potential and opportunity.[82] Māori survivor Susan Kenny (Ngāti Apa) said, “I had no qualifications when I left care. This impacted the work I could find. I was the only child who went into care. I wonder what I could have been because all my family are successful.”[83]

70. Difficulties with employment also stemmed from other impacts of abuse and neglect. Survivors said the emotional and psychological impacts affected their ability to retain employment in a range of ways,[84] including how they respond to or interact with others,[85] feelings of inadequacy or unworthiness,[86] and the impact of alcohol or substance misuse.[87] Other employment difficulties stemmed from the prejudice and discrimination of having been in care, including being seen as less trustworthy than other people. Survivor Ms LS, who spent over 30 years in the mental health system, spoke of the discrimination she faced due to her mental distress:

“I looked for jobs, but I just gave up in the end because it was so hard on the way you saw yourself; being rejected by people that didn’t know you and didn’t realise how desperate you were to move on in your life. They just saw you as the one thing they wanted to see, and that was it”.[88]

71. Being unable to work or maintain regular employment has contributed to severe financial hardship for survivors, and many have had to rely on benefit payments to survive.[89]

Ngā whakaritenga kāinga noho
Housing arrangements

72. Article 25 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights contains a right to “a standard of living adequate for health and well-being of himself and of his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care”. International inquiries have found that periods of homelessness are a life problem that people who have been abused, including abused in care, may experience.[90]

73. Over their lifetime, some survivors experienced periods of homelessness between care placements or once they exited placements. Aotearoa New Zealand’s official definition of homelessness is broad. It covers:

• living on the streets and sleeping rough
• moving between temporary shelters and possibly couch surfing
• living without shelter, in emergency and temporary accommodation
• living as a temporary resident in a severely overcrowded private dwelling.[91]

74. The cumulative harm from abuse and neglect in care were among many reasons that survivors experienced periods of homelessness.[92] For example, a survivor could have been:

• Neglected in care which meant that they received little or no education. This limited their employment opportunities and impacted their financial position, so they could not afford stable permanent housing.[93]
• Sexually and / or physically abused in care, which led to them developing addictions. They could not hold down a job, or if they could, they spent their money on funding addictions rather than accommodation.[94]
• Abused and neglected in care by a staff member or someone in a position of authority. This led to the survivor’s distrust and fear of institutions and authority, limiting their desire to work with and seek funding assistance from institutions for a housing grant.[95]

Te pāihi mō ngā mana whakahaere
Distrust of authority

75. The abuse and neglect led to a lifelong distrust of authority. Many survivors, particularly Māori survivors, held deep distrust in authority and the State before entering care. This was sometimes intergenerational and shaped by the discrimination and harmful experiences survivors and their whānau had already suffered from authority figures, including through colonisation, urbanisation and assimilation. The abuse and neglect then suffered in care further compounded this distrust. For some, the distrust of authorities led to negative interactions with government departments later as adults. A common example that survivors shared was adult interaction with the care system, where their own children, grandchildren, or wider whānau members would be taken into care.[96] Survivors said they wanted to care for their children or grandchildren themselves or within their own whānau, but they were never empowered to do so.[97] Some survivors told us that the fact they were in care themselves often led to them being judged by government agencies, including by NZ Police.

76. Survivors’ distrust of authorities sometimes prevented them from seeking or accepting assistance from government or others, including benefits they were entitled to.[98] Survivors spoke about the steps they would take to survive without the assistance of the government, which included criminal offending, such as theft or selling drugs, and sex work. Those actions would come to the attention of NZ Police and would bring survivors into contact with the criminal justice system.

Te whanonga tūkino
Learned violence

77. Violence was so embedded in care settings that survivors became “numb” to it, and it became normalised for many.[99] Survivors learnt to use violence to protect themselves.[100] They expected to receive violence from peers and those higher up the “pecking order”.[101] Some survivors instigated violence, whether in self-defence or to bully others as their peers expected them to do. Survivor Roy Takiaho, who went into care at 2 years old, shared:

“As a result of the abuse I suffered, I became the abuser. I used physical abuse. I wanted to hurt people. I became a person who wanted to administer pain.”[102]

78. For some survivors, this learned behaviour of abuse and violence continued long after they had left care, where the survivor would perpetuate the abuse that they had seen and experienced. Likewise, some survivors of sexual abuse would go on to perpetrate sexual abuse later in their lives. It is important to note here that most survivors of abuse do not go on to become perpetrators. However, for the few who did, there is a clear link between the abuse they experienced and the harm they perpetuated later in life.[103]

Te ara ki te mahi kairau
Pathway to sex work

79. Some survivors turned to sex work while in care or after leaving care. Often, they were homeless, and it was a way to survive. Some had trauma as a result of sexual abuse they had suffered and explained how this shaped their understandings and actions around sex.

80. Some survivors found that living on the streets gave them freedom from otherwise abusive care placements and homes. Survivor Ms GI, who was raped and molested by her foster father, said she and her sister would run away and live on the streets:

“We were only 13, but we learned to look after ourselves. If we ever needed money, we would resort to prostitution, but only if we really needed it.”[104]

81. Māori survivor Waiana Kotara (Ngāti Hako, Ngāti Maniapoto) suffered violent sexual abuse. She spoke about how she “struggled to differentiate between sex and violence” and had “no sense of what was normal” when it came to sex; as well as not having any role models or care provided to her:

“My trust in humanity faded, and I had nowhere to go ... Instead, I felt the one decision I still had was the streets. Stealing food and clothing, and eventually prostitution, were added to my survival kit.”[105]

82. Survivor Fiona Dougan told the Inquiry that she has been unable to have proper relationships:

“I just give into sex and don’t really know any different. I have sold myself so many times having risky, unprotected sex as an adult. The sexual abuse and then prostitution meant I have lost the ability to love myself. Even now I struggle to love or touch.”[106]

Te ara ki te mauheretanga
Pathway to imprisonment

83. The Inquiry’s interim report, Tāwharautia: Pūrongo o te Wā, found strong links between experience in State care and later imprisonment.[107] The Care to Custody: Incarceration Rates report shows the link between social welfare care and going to prison, and in particular the disproportionate impact on children and young people placed into social welfare residential care.[108] The report found that one in five, and sometimes as many as one in three, individuals placed in social welfare residential care between 1950 and 1999 went on to serve a criminal custodial sentence later in life. Imprisonment led to criminal records, causing ongoing impacts through the reduction of opportunities for these survivors. Māori were the majority within social welfare residential care settings, and so were also over-represented in prison.

84. Expert witness Professor Elizabeth Stanley outlined a number of significant factors in the care to custody pathway, including histories of maltreatment, multiple placements, institutional cultures and conditions (including seeking protection in gangs), social disadvantages and psychological harm, and children receiving prison sentences.[109]

85. Survivors described their life pathways from the care system to prison and from prison to forensic care. A pathway they believe would never have happened had they not been physically and sexually abused in care, including shock treatment and isolation. Survivor Jurny said he experienced “all the levels of abuse, whether intended or not, but it still happened.” It was recognised that the abuse he suffered had significantly impacted his mental health:[110]

“I didn’t ask to be a criminal. There needs to be an accountability for what has happened.”[111]

86. The final report of the Confidential Listening Service, Some Memories Never Fade, stated:

“Many of the children who had been abused in State care fell into anti-social and criminal behaviour and ended up in prison or psychiatric hospitals in later life. It is estimated that about 40 percent of prisoners grew up in state care. Their lives were set on a dangerous and damaging path during this time. There are many people who have been living on the edge ever since their experience of State care as children.”[112]

87. For Māori survivors - who experienced disproportionate entries into prison from social welfare settings[113] – prisons represent another layer of transgression against tikanga. From an ao Māori perspective, prisons contradict tikanga Māori. As discussed in Part 1 of this report, harm and wrongdoing from a Māori perspective was understood as an offence against the collective relationships. To hurt a person was to disrupt the lives and wellbeing of the community as a whole and to disrupt whakapapa and whanaungatanga. Therefore, particular tikanga exist (such as utu) around restoring balance to relationships (ea) and maintaining whanaungatanga. To imprison someone is to deny tikanga practices, which enable the restoration of balance in relationships. Dr Moana Jackson has previously described prisons as being “culturally incomprehensible“[114] and “antithetical to everything that is consistent with tikanga and with our [Māori] history”.[115] For survivors who were then incarcerated after care, this has meant they experienced compounding forms of transgressions against tikanga.

Te ara ki te uru kēnge
Pathway to gang membership

88. Social welfare institutions have played a significant role in gang formation.[116] Many Māori and Pacific survivors shared how their time in care was their introduction to gangs and gang life. Māori survivor Mr BE said:

“It was during my admission to Epuni [Boys’ Home in Taitoko Levin] that I was introduced to and inducted into gang culture. Many of the boys at Epuni, particularly the older boys, were already young gang members.”[117]

89. Many survivors were away from their families, their culture, their communities, and felt forgotten by society.[118] Some of the reasons survivors became part of a gang included because they finally found a place where they felt they belonged,[119] they had a family[120] and they experienced comradeship.[121] Some said they joined gangs to have a place like home, to be kept safe and secure,[122] to be taken care of[123] and to be loved.[124]

90. Survivors told the Inquiry of the protective aspect of gang membership within the care facility. Gangs provided survivors with the care (that is, attachment and belonging) and protection that State and faith-based institutions should have given.[125]

Te mautanga i ngā pūnaha taurima
Entrapment in institutional care

91. Some survivors of disability care and survivors who experienced mental distress had no ‘pathway after care’.[126] Some survivors have spent much of their lives in institutional care, including smaller care settings where features of institutional care still existed. The nature of institutional care most often included regimented routines, one-size-fits-all approaches to care, lack of individualised care, being unresponsive to each person’s unique needs and circumstances, depersonalisation and isolation from whānau and community.[127] Many remain in institutional care to this day.

92. Many survivors spoke of how their time in care had led them to be institutionalised and develop learnt helplessness. Māori survivor Mr HS (Ngāti Kahungunu), who was adopted at birth and went into care after his adoptive mother left the relationship and his adoptive father became very ill, said whānau members did not visit or contact him at any of the institutions he was in, and he wasn’t encouraged to communicate with them either:

“As time went on, I began to feel a sense of hopelessness that I could not change my situation. I was being shuffled from one institution to another and had little or no involvement with decision-making about myself, and this led to me learning to be helpless.

As I became more institutionalised, I started to lose the will to survive outside the institutions I was in. I became increasingly comfortable with the rules (formal and informal) inside each institution and more fearful that I did not know the rules outside of the institution.”[128]

93. Being institutionalised was described as becoming a ‘number’ in the system, which survivors felt was simply a “holding pen for prison”.[129] Survivor Alan Nixon explained how his institutionalisation had led him from care to prison:

“Because of this sexual abuse, I kept running away. I would be put in the secure unit when I was returned, but by then, I was sort of used to being locked up. I think I had become institutionalised by that point …

I found going in and out of prison for so many years extremely difficult and frustrating, but I never lasted very long in the community. I became institutionalised because almost my entire life had been spent in institutional care.”[130]

Ngā rua kōiwi ingoa kore
Unmarked graves

94. The Inquiry has not only received evidence of people dying in care but also of people in care being buried in unmarked graves.

95. The Inquiry received some information on unmarked graves at Tokanui Psychiatric Hospital located south of Te Awamutu, Sunnyside Hospital in Ōtautahi Christchurch, Cherry Farm in Ōtepoti Dunedin, Seacliff in Ōtepoti Dunedin, and Porirua Hospital. Evidence was provided by Mr Wright and his team, who have identified 765 Sunnyside patients buried at Sydenham Cemetery between the years of 1896 to 1934 (the most recent year transcribed to date).[131] Mr Wright predicts there could be upwards of 1,000 Sunnyside patients at Sydenham Cemetery, with the majority of these being unmarked.[132]

96. At Tokanui Hospital Cemetery, work undertaken by Anna Purgar has verified 469 people as being buried in unmarked graves. Several bodies have since been exhumed and reburied in other cemeteries.[133]

97. At Porirua Cemetery, a public cemetery, there are 2,046 unmarked graves identified in total. One thousand, eight hundred and forty of these are for Porirua Hospital patients. Porirua City Council also identified 847 unmarked graves at Whenua Tapu Cemetery and 25 at Pauatahanui Burial Grounds.[134]

98. The Westland District Council had not done any research into unmarked graves at Hokitika Cemetery and stated that it does not hold sufficient records to conduct a search. Despite this, the Council was able to provide this Inquiry with the names and plot numbers of 83 individuals buried in Hokitika Cemetery, with the last known address recorded as ‘Seaview Hospital’ and without a headstone recorded on the Council’s records. However, the Council notes that the records “may not accurately reflect what is actually on the ground,” meaning they do not know for sure which graves are unmarked.[135]

99. In 2014, a local historian identified 172 unmarked graves at Waitati Cemetery, Otago. About 85 percent of these graves are from former institutions such as Cherry Farm and Seacliff. The historian noted that the last burial was in 1983, with many in the 1930s and 1940s.[136]

Ngā whakatau mō ngā pāpātanga o te tūkinotanga me te whakahapa ki ngā purapura ora me ō rātou whānau
Conclusions on the impacts of abuse and neglect on survivors and their whānau

100. The impacts of abuse and neglect in care are complex and interconnected. They may be experienced at the same time, consecutively, and may last a lifetime. Impacts can be variable, manifest differently in a survivor and change over time. Some impacts are immediate, while some impacts can either emerge or last well into adulthood and spread through all aspects of a survivor’s life, and their whānau and community.

101. During the Inquiry period, some babies, children, young people and adults in care experienced extreme abuse and neglect multiple times. Many experienced more than one type of abuse or neglect. The compounding effect of these impacts has led to substantial trauma in the lives of survivors and of their whānau and community.

102. Abuse and neglect within State and faith-based care have devastated the lives of survivors and has caused significant, pervasive and lifelong impacts to their physical and mental health, emotional wellbeing and spirituality, identity and cultural identity, and education and employment opportunities. It has negatively impacted their ability to form healthy relationships and their sense of self-worth and deprived them of the opportunity to thrive and fulfil their potential. This is consistent with other international inquiries.[137]

103. Abuse and neglect suffered in care robbed survivors of their childhood and innocence. It had profound impacts on how they viewed themselves, how they viewed others, their understanding of the world and their subsequent learned behaviours, which limited their opportunities and the ability to lead a full and meaningful life. Damaging lifelong impacts of being abused, combined with educational neglect and therefore not learning to read, connected to later in life not being able to access the internet (as they can't read or their reading skills are limited), having limited interaction with whānau and support networks and being isolated from community, with limited (if any) opportunities to earn a living wage, has locked many survivors into a poverty trap that they are never able to escape. This loss of economic opportunity has had (and continues to have) ongoing consequences, including financial insecurity and a loss of self-worth impacting survivors and their children and grandchildren. Abuse and neglect in care has had a corrosive effect on the lives of so many survivors.