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Tane's son still asks his grandmother: ‘How did my dad die?' She doesn't know what to say
Tane's son still asks his grandmother: ‘How did my dad die?' She doesn't know what to say

The Guardian

time11-06-2025

  • The Guardian

Tane's son still asks his grandmother: ‘How did my dad die?' She doesn't know what to say

Warning: Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers are advised that this article contains images and names of Indigenous Australians who have died. This story contains descriptions of self-harm and some readers might find it distressing. In a small rural cemetery in Armidale, a young boy sits by a grave, gazing up at a portrait embedded in the black marble headstone. The boy is quiet. He's taking in the face of the young man before him. Tane Chatfield, the inscription reads. A loving father. A beloved son. When the boy gets home, he asks his grandmother, Nioka Chatfield, a question. 'He doesn't say the word die – he calls it 'bombed',' Nioka says. 'So he says, 'Nan, how did my dad get bombed?'' Nioka doesn't know what to say. There's so much to tell. But her grandson is only 11. Tane, a proud Gamilaraay, Gumbaynggirr and Wakka Wakka man, died by hanging in Tamworth correctional centre in 2017. He had been on remand for two years, awaiting trial, and was innocent in the eyes of the law. When Tane entered custody he was clearly identifiable as a prisoner at risk. Yet he was provided no sustained psychological support or drug and alcohol treatment. He was also placed into a cell that had an obvious hanging point. A coroner later described that point as a 'lethal method immediately and obviously available' to Tane. It should not have been there. More than 30 years ago, like all state governments, New South Wales agreed to remove hanging points from its jails in response to the 1991 royal commission into Aboriginal deaths in custody. When asked by the coroner to explain the failure, a senior NSW corrections officer blamed the jail's 'heritage' listing, saying this restricted physical changes to the building. She claimed that the complex had been built in the 1700s – before European settlement of the area. Guardian Australia has spent months investigating hanging deaths like Tane's in every state and territory. The investigation has revealed a staggering death toll linked to inaction on known hanging points. Across 19 prisons, at least 57 hangings occurred using ligature points that were known to authorities but not removed. In one case the same point was used in 10 hanging deaths, despite repeated, early warnings that it be immediately removed. Guardian Australia has spent five months investigating the deadly toll of Australia's inaction to remove hanging points from its jails, a key recommendation of the 1991 royal commission into Aboriginal deaths in custody. The main finding – that 57 inmates died using known ligature points that had not been removed – was made possible by an exhaustive examination of coronial records relating to 248 hanging deaths spanning more than 20 years. Reporters combed through large volumes of coronial records looking for instances where a hanging point had been used repeatedly in the same jail. They counted any death that occurred after prison authorities were made aware of that particular hanging point. Warnings were made via a prior suicide or suicide attempt, advice from their own staff or recommendations from coroners and other independent bodies. Guardian Australia also logged how many of the 57 inmates were deemed at risk of self-harm or had attempted suicide before they were sent into cells with known hanging points. In adherence with best practice in reporting on this topic, Guardian Australia has avoided detailed descriptions of suicide. In some instances, so that the full ramifications of coronial recommendations can be understood, we have made the decision to identify types and locations of ligature points. We have done this only in instances where we feel the public interest in this information being available to readers is high. Official data shows the rate of Aboriginal hanging deaths is at a 17-year high. Seven Indigenous Australians hanged themselves in prison in 2023-24, according to the latest data available, a record not seen since 2000-01. It correlates with Australia's surging prisoner population. Indigenous Australians remain vastly overrepresented in prison populations and hundreds have died in custody – 101 of those by hanging – since the 1991 royal commission. Australia's longest serving Indigenous affairs minister, Robert Tickner, who presented the royal commission's report to federal parliament and helped secure agreement to its recommendations, is outraged. 'There can be no excuses for the failure to act,' he says. Sign up for Guardian Australia's breaking news email 'We must not as a nation take our focus off the core recommendation of the royal commission, which was reducing the numbers of Aboriginal people in the criminal justice system. 'I've just come from a parliamentary committee in NSW and they've asked me, have things changed in all those years? And, very sadly, in this space, no. The numbers are still truly shocking.' The coroner who investigated Tane's death, Harriet Grahame, said authorities had failed to tackle the 'grossly disproportionate incarceration of Indigenous people' in the three decades since the royal commission. Governments, she said, had also failed to address the underlying factors driving overrepresentation, including glaring disadvantages across economic, health, housing and education spheres. 'Tane's death must be understood in its context of real social injustice, ongoing dispossession and his lived experience of inter-generational trauma,' she said. The failures did not stop after Tane's death. In 2020 the NSW coroner told the state government to audit Tamworth prison for obvious hanging points and to have them removed. The audit was conducted in October 2020. The government reported back that it 'did not identify any obvious cell hanging points'. Guardian Australia can reveal that, within 12 months of that audit, the inspector of custodial services visited the prison and found multiple hanging points, including some that were said to have been removed. Though some were removed after Tane's death, the report said: 'The most significant concern, however, at the time of the inspection was the multiple hanging points we observed in the cells.' Nioka says: 'When they said to us that they were going to deal with the hanging points … You think, 'OK, so no other family's going to go through this.' 'It's like they just pick your hopes up and they just shatter you.' When the inspector conducted a follow-up visit in 2024, the ligature points had been removed. A spokesperson for Corrective Services NSW said the government was 'committed to reducing all preventable deaths in custody' and had already removed hanging points from 800 cells across the state. An additional 145 cells were expected to be completed by July 2025. The government had invested $16m in ligature point removal, the spokesperson said, which would 'continue the extensive work that has already been undertaken across several facilities' to remove unsafe furniture and infrastructure. Growing up, Tane's siblings called him 'golden child'. Family meant everything to him. He rarely left his mother's side. 'He was a type of person that would make sure everyone had a bed, everybody had a feed,' Nioka says. 'He'd take his shirt off his back and give it to anybody.' Tane had big plans for his life. An immensely talented footballer, he set his sights on going pro. He was being watched by scouts, Nioka says, and had made representative rugby league sides. His cousin, Bevan French, went on to play in the NRL. But, at the age of 15, Tane suffered a serious injury during a game of touch. 'It just sent him into a deep depression,' Nioka says. 'He stopped playing sports with his siblings and he just thought, 'If I can't do what I'm good at, what can I do?'' Sign up to Breaking News Australia Get the most important news as it breaks after newsletter promotion Tane's first stint in custody changed him. 'He come home, he said, 'Mum, it's like, all the boys in there treat you like a family,'' Nioka says. 'So he got that sense of having another family.' 'And he thought, 'Well, is this where I fit in now? Because I can't fit in anywhere with my other brothers that I had on the football field or the cricket field.'' Tane entered custody in 2015. He was held on remand from October that year until his death, and was moved to Tamworth prison in August 2017 so he could be closer to his Armidale trial. On 19 September, a day before he was discovered hanging in his cell, his family saw him in court. Nioka remembers he put two fists up in the air, as if he was going to fight. Then they were told to make an 'emergency' visit to see him in hospital. Nioka found her son in intensive care, naked except for a pair of hospital socks. 'I was really shocked and stunned the way that nobody told us that we were going to find him like that,' she says. 'And it just, it wasn't making sense.' Tane died two days later. His funeral was a sight to behold, Nioka says. 'That beautiful boy, he just made friends everywhere he went,' she says. 'The funeral director rang me two weeks after his funeral and said, 'Nioka, I just want to let you know that in the last 30 years Tane's had the biggest [funeral] … how can your son be 22 and over 3,000 people turn up?'' At the inquest into Tane's death, a senior NSW corrections officer offered up an explanation as to why it was so difficult to remove hanging points from the jail. 'Tamworth CC is a very old facility, heritage listed built in the 1700s [sic] and there are limitations to what you can do with changing infrastructure,' she said. The explanation did not impress. Grahame, the deputy state coroner, described it as 'unacceptable'. 'The limitation of lethal means is one of the most reliable methods of reducing suicide,' she said. 'Coroners have been recommending the removal of hanging points for many years. The issue must be taken seriously. 'Thirty years on from the [royal commission into Aboriginal deaths in custody] it is unacceptable to suggest it would be expensive or difficult to achieve the elimination of hanging points in a 'heritage listed' facility.' Nioka describes the coronial system as the 'monster's loophole'. It investigates serious failures in the corrections system, she says, but can do no more than make non-binding recommendations to address them. She wants an independent body set up to investigate Aboriginal deaths in custody, armed with greater powers to compel change. 'I believe the number would dramatically start lowering … because then someone has to be answerable.' In Western Australia, the family of Ricky-Lee Cound is experiencing similar loss and frustration. Their son, a Noongar man, died in 2022 aged just 22, while in custody at Hakea prison – a facility with a 'parlous' lack of ligature-minimised cells, according to the coroner. The family said: 'The fact that prison cells aren't properly ligature-minimised is a clear indication that the authorities are neglecting their responsibility to protect vulnerable individuals. 'This isn't just a statistic – it's our boy Ricky's life. And the truth is, nothing will bring him back. But we can't let this happen to others.' Dr Hannah McGlade, a Kurin Minang Noongar woman and law academic at Curtin University, describes the continuing deaths of Aboriginal people in custody as a 'severe human rights violation'. '[Removing hanging points is] a very straightforward matter and yet it simply hasn't happened and many lives, largely Indigenous, have been lost as a result,' she says. 'Aboriginal deaths in custody are a national and international shame and blight on Australia.' Megan Krakouer, the director of the National Suicide Prevention and Trauma Recovery Project, says governments have been guilty of 'wilful blindness' on issues including hanging points since the 1991 royal commission. 'That particular Royal Commission, that was really quite powerful,' she says. 'And it's been diminished in every single way because there's no political will.' The independent senator Lidia Thorpe, who is a Gunnai, Gunditjmara and Djab Wurrung woman, criticises the lack of action on hanging points by the major parties. 'I can't help [but] think that this is part of the ongoing erasure of my people, particularly because we are the most incarcerated,' she says. 'It is the ongoing sophistication of the genocide.' The WA Department of Justice said it had undertaken a comprehensive hanging point removal program since 2005. A spokesperson said priority had been given to 'facilities with the highest risk and need' and the state was also expanding services for those with complex mental health issues, including by building dedicated therapeutic accommodation and employing specialist mental health staff. Tane's son sometimes asks to hear his father's voice. Nioka plays him recordings of prison phone conversations, taking great care in what she lets him hear. She's in no doubt about the reasons behind the gross inaction on hanging points. '[Aboriginal prisoners] are marked as criminals,' she says. 'But they're still human beings, at the end of the day. 'They're somebody's son, they're somebody's daughter.' Indigenous Australians can call 13YARN on 13 92 76 for information and crisis support; or call Lifeline on 13 11 14. Other international helplines can be found at

In Pictures: ‘Many nations, one mob'
In Pictures: ‘Many nations, one mob'

AU Financial Review

time29-05-2025

  • General
  • AU Financial Review

In Pictures: ‘Many nations, one mob'

Skip to navigationSkip to contentSkip to footerHelp using this website - Accessibility statement Aunty Kathleen Hopkins and Aunty Ada Simpson, Cherbourg: 'We live for the church and the power of God.' One of the women grew up in the dormitory. The other was raised as a camp kid. But together, they've shared a lifetime of laughter right here on these very church steps. Through sorrow and survival, joy and justice, these women have leaned on each other and their faith. The church has been their anchor: a place of resilience, strength, and unwavering community. They say it was God who helped them survive and thrive. Prayer was their medicine. Service, their offering. And today, their story is a testament to a spirit that could never be broken. 'Faith is our foundation. The church has always been our guiding light shaping our journey, keeping our spirits strong.' Zakirrah, Normanton: standing on the cracked earth of Normanton, Queensland, may be the youngest person to deliver official Welcome to Country speeches in Australia. A Traditional Owner of Normanton, she began this important role at just seven and is now nine years old. Welcome to Country is an ancient tradition, once practised when travelling between Nations. Visitors would signal at the border with smoke and wait for warriors to escort them to the Elders. The Elders, through ceremony, sought the ancestors' blessing, and once welcomed, the entire Nation took responsibility for the visitor's care and safety. It was also a way for Nations to welcome and acknowledge each other's traditional lands marking rites of passage, exchanging, bartering, celebrating, and welcoming. Through ceremony, these shared practices strengthened the connections between people and reinforced respect for the land and its custodians. Today, this practice continues as a sign of respect for the land, its Traditional Custodians, and the enduring connection First Nations peoples have to Country. It acknowledges the ancestors and reinforces the responsibility of communities to care for one another and their shared environment. Mayor Bruce Simpson – Cherbourg Aboriginal Shire Council (CASC): Mayor Simpson's enthusiastic participation in the All Shades Project was to showcase his leadership achievements through the lens of art. His request for a grand piano and theatre setting was to showcase that he initially wanted to become the first Aboriginal concert pianist. He is from the strength of great leaders of the Wakka Wakka, Wangan and Koa tribes. Brayden, Delta Downs: Australia's First Indigenous-Owned Cattle Station: . In 1982, it became Australia's first Indigenous-owned and operated cattle station, returning to the care of the Kurtijar people. Since then, it has flourished as a proud testament to the vision, resilience, and dedication of its community. Brayden said, 'I wanted to be photographed here because this place represents the future we've built for ourselves. Delta Downs is more than a cattle station – it's a living example of what we can achieve when we work together and care for Country. Every day here is about growth, connection, and pride in who we are.' Rubber dingy shot. 'The ocean is our playground, our highway, and our home. We wanted to be photographed here on Kirriri [Hammond Island] because the water is where we belong. Out here, we make our own boats, find our own adventures, and move the way our ancestors did, always connected to the sea. Life on the island is about freedom, fun, and knowing that the ocean will always be part of who we are.' Kababinna, Sunshine Coast: 'The ocean is alive – it moves, breathes, and connects us to something greater. I wanted to be photographed here on Gubbi Gubbi Country because this place fills me with wonder. The way the water crashes against the rocks, the energy of the ocean – it reminds me of how powerful and free we are. Every wave, every drop, every moment out here is something to respect and cherish. I chose to be photographed near the saltwater. Unya Jagun (my country) Biren Jagun (saltwater country) is where I always feel my strongest and where my people have always belonged. To stay strong in my culture is a necessity for me, and I am learning every day. In the words of my grandfather (GuGu Yalanji): 'Gurri milka wulun' – don't forget. 'Gurri gingy gingy' – don't get confused.' Gordon Browning, Gympie: 'My name is Gordon Browning, I am a proud Bundjalung/ Coodjinburra and South Sea Islander man from Fingal Heads. I currently live in the Gympie Regional Council and have worked in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander health for the last 25 years. I started my health career in 1999, as an Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander health worker at the Gympie Hospital. This picture was taken on our property just outside of Gympie, my totem is the mibunn (sea eagle). When I paint up, this is my grounding to my culture, my country and our law/lore. I have been blessed to have to support from my beautiful wife, our four children, and three grandchildren.' Mandji, Marcus Beach: 'My name is Mandji. My name comes from the Gubbi Gubbi word meaning 'friend'. I am a proud Bundjalung Yugambeh and South Sea Islander woman. I have spent my life privileged to grow up around strong First Nations family, Elders, and community, and I take pride in my culture. I am mother to my Kubill Muyumm (beautiful little boy), who is my absolute world. To be Aboriginal to me is such a special feeling and privilege. It gives me strength every day, knowing that I'm walking in the footsteps of my ancestors. Through the salt water, air, the bush, and the flames of the fire, I can hear my old people guiding me as a mother and helping me walk through this society, a society that I was born into and one I have chosen to birth my son and daughter into.' Adrian Bauwens, Cherbourg: 'Galang Gumba Daru – G'day. I'm Adrian, a man of the Wakka Wakka people. I am grateful to be able to share with you some insight into my connection with country. What you can see here in the photo is an ancient practice from our culture – fire on country. To many of us, fire is an important element of country and its wellbeing. The land loves a good fire that is performed in a cultural way. Everything on country greatly benefits from our fire practices; from plants, to animals, to fungi and insects. There is something for everyone when a fire comes through. As someone who works in the environmental field, this is something I am passionate about – helping country to stay strong and healthy. It's hard to describe, but whenever we do these burns, I like to think of country really enjoying the fire. Almost like it's happy and celebrating, or even dancing. There's just something so calming about being in the presence of country during a burn.' Simon Thornalley, Mooloolaba: Launched in early 2020, Saltwater Eco Tours is the vision of Simon Thornalley, a young Indigenous man of Torres Strait Island descent who was born on the Sunshine Coast and introduced to his sailing lifestyle by his parents who were world-class sailors and environmentalists themselves. That vision was to establish a unique tourism experience that would inspire a deeper connection to Indigenous culture and the ocean. Collaboration with Traditional Owners of the Kabi Kabi First Nation people ensures that Saltwater Eco Tours delivers an authentic local visitor experience, sharing the timeless wisdom of the world's oldest continuous living cultures, the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples. Alongside his partner Jenna, Traditional Owner Aunty Bridgette Chilli and their experienced crew, the company prides themselves on authenticity, passion and a genuine love for the ocean. Toshianna Josiah, Yaggra Station: This is where I feel strongest - on horseback, with the dust rising and the sun setting behind me. It's in these moments that I know exactly who I am.' Toshianna is a true horsewoman and fearless bull rider. She's been in the saddle since she was seven, riding with spirit, courage, and grace. We thank our Creator for her natural talent and a nity. Her dream lives in the rodeo arena, where she feels most alive riding bulls, drawn to the thrill and challenge. She's forged in the rhythm of the land and the strength of the saddle. The station is more than a place of work - it's where her roots run deep. It's where resilience is inherited, where hard work is worn like a badge of honour, and where the bond between rider and horse is unbreakable. As the dust swirls in the golden light, Toshianna rides on - carrying her ancestors, her dreams, and her future in every stride Tia Pitman is a former gymnast turned professional roller skater, who is making waves in skate parks, on social media, and the performance stage. With her gymnastics background, Tia brings dynamic movement, fearless tricks, and creative expression to the world of roller skating, inspiring a new generation of skaters and performers. This image captures her passion, skill, and unstoppable energy. Old Crow, Kowanyama: 'I wanted to be photographed here because I've been working these machines since I was 16. It's what I love, and it's what I've done all my life. Every day, I get up, climb in, and get to work. It's not just a job – it's part of who I am.' Aleon, Hammond Island: Beauty of Kirriri. 'The saltwater is where I feel alive, wind in my hair, salt on my lips, shells in my pocket, and sand on my feet. The water holds our stories that our spirit connects to the sea. Where our forefathers sailed, bring hope for you and me. This is my happy place where the sky meets the sea. Kirriri Island is a place where you long to be and a home to me.'

'Spectacular' 10-day First Nations international arts festival YIRRAMBOI kicks off in Naarm/Melbourne
'Spectacular' 10-day First Nations international arts festival YIRRAMBOI kicks off in Naarm/Melbourne

ABC News

time30-04-2025

  • Entertainment
  • ABC News

'Spectacular' 10-day First Nations international arts festival YIRRAMBOI kicks off in Naarm/Melbourne

WARNING: Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are advised that this article contains the names of people who have died. With a grand cohort of international talent joining local mob across this year's YIRRAMBOI — the Naarm/Melbourne-based biennial First Nations arts festival that both embraces and upends tradition — the decision was made to ease audiences in. "We're starting off slowly, being grounded onto Country and then really going out with a bang with the Uncle Archie Roach Block Party, making some noise on closing night," says co-creative lead Sherene Stewart (Taungurung/Filipino), who co-leads with J-Maine Beezley (Wakka Wakka/Kabi Kabi). "It's a spectacular and beautiful event." Billed as one of the largest-ever First Nations-led happenings in Naarm, the Block Party is named in honour of the late game-changing musicians Archie Roach (Gunditjmara and Bundjalung) and partner Ruby Hunter (Ngarrindjeri/Kukatha/Pitjantjatjara), whose collective voice helped fire up generations of activists and artists. Amos Roach, pictured with Sky Thomas, says his parents would more than approve of YIRRAMBOI's Block Party line-up. ( National Indigenous Times/Joshua Scott ) Curated by YIRRAMBOI music producer Sky Thomas, aka Soju Gang (Gunnai/Kurnai/Yorta Yorta/Wiradjuri), it's a giant street party centred on the Aunty Ruby Hunter Stage. It's headlined by Roach and Hunter's son, award-winning musician and dancer Amos Roach (Ngarrandjerri/Djab Wurrung/Gunditjmara). "It means so much to me that the Block Party carries my mum and dad's names," Roach says. "Growing up, I'd travel round the country with them performing and meet so many musicians and their kids, including Kutcha Edwards [also playing the Block Party]," he adds. "I know they'd love this line-up." Acclaimed Mutti Mutti songman Kutcha Edwards features in YIRRAMBOI. ( Susan Carmody ) That stacked line-up includes the likes of Miss Kaninna (Yorta Yorta,/Dja Dja Wurrung/Kalkadoon/Yirendali), who recently supported Irish rappers Kneecap, pioneering rockers Blackfire and Canadian roots star Leonard Sumner (Anishinaabe). "I'm hoping to catch as many performances as possible," Roach says. "I can't think of a better tribute." Stumble upon something new YIRRAMBOI will also stage the welcome return of Barring Yanabul, a free showcase of First Nations arts events in and around Bourke Street Mall. "Barring Yanabul translates to 'we all walk the path', and the idea is it's a great way to stumble upon something you've never seen before," Stewart says. Yorta Yorta/Dja Dja Wurrung/Kalkadoon/Yirendali artist Miss Kaninna is performing at this year's festival. ( Supplied: Yirramboi Festival ) First dreamt up by YIRRAMBOI founder Jacob Boehme and a council of Elders, this year's iteration includes everything from installation art to psychic readings and drag stars, and it continues to evolve the idea of moving beyond designated spaces, decolonising where art can happen. "The idea was to remove barriers of engaging with new audiences," Stewart says. "You don't need to go and buy a ticket to engage with incredible work created within our communities, interwoven with international acts." The breadth of free works on offer is impressive, and it comes with a message. " For far too long, we were only seen as capable of traditional art," Stewart says. "That's an incredibly important part of our cultural inheritance, but we can also do anything and everything. " Hence a program with "a diversity of people and practices" and a little bit of everything for everyone, bringing "joy into the public sphere". Breaking down the door Continually expanding what YIRRAMBOI can do is built into the festival's mission statement. "Yirramboi means 'tomorrow' in the local languages of the Boon Wurrung and Woi Wurrung," Stewart explains. "I worked on the very first festival and remember going for a walk along the Birrarung with Jacob. He said to me, 'One day you'll be in a position where you have the opportunity to hold open the door, and when you do, pull through as many people as you can.'" It's advice that stuck. "As I've been able to grow and develop within YIRRAMBOI, we've gotten to the point where we say, 'Why not rip the door down?'" Already Occupied, a contemporary art project that's part of Barring Yanabul. ( Supplied: Yirramboi Festival/Keelan O'Hehir ) YIRRAMBOI's international offering is an excellent example of folks passing through that door in either direction. "J-Maine and I sat down and we really thought about how to program international artists authentically," Stewart says. "And it's all about self-determination." They invited Anishinaabe producer Sage Wright to help coordinate that aspect of the festival, including the Block Party and Barring Yanabul participants. "She sits in the office with us," Stewart says. "It's not just a moment in time where we pick up a show or program an international musician. It's about legacy building; creating relationships that will continue forevermore." Rock the block The Block Party builds a bridge between the past, present and future. "When Sky was curating the music program, she reinforced that Archie and Ruby transformed the landscape of the Australian music scene way back when they didn't get the opportunities we do today," Stewart says. "So having Uncle Kutch and Amos in there alongside emerging artists is vital. " When we talk about futures past, we have that responsibility to create platforms for the people that created platforms for us. " It's more important now than ever. "There has been a lot of hate, not only here but across the globe, including in the gender space," Stewart says. "We have survived for 80,000 years-plus, and that doesn't just happen. It happens because of the power and resilience of our communities. "YIRRAMBOI is a joyful act of resistance." YIRRAMBOI runs in Naarm/Melbourne from May 1–11.

Breaking a cycle of crime and abuse, how Cherbourg's next generation are taking up the fight
Breaking a cycle of crime and abuse, how Cherbourg's next generation are taking up the fight

SBS Australia

time25-04-2025

  • Politics
  • SBS Australia

Breaking a cycle of crime and abuse, how Cherbourg's next generation are taking up the fight

19 year old Koby Douglas, from Cherbourg in Queensland, has a message for political leaders: "Come to Aboriginal communities and ask us what we want – what changes we want in this country and in our own backyard." Credit: Dan Rennie The Wakka Wakka people, traditional owners of Cherbourg, located approximately 170 kilometres northwest of Brisbane, are calling on political leaders to engage with communities like theirs. As the election campaign approaches its conclusion, neither Anthony Albanese nor Peter Dutton have made a visit to an Indigenous community and the community are concerned that they will once again be overlooked. "Come listen and face the problems we face every day, you never know unless you experience it or see it for yourself," says Carla Fisher, councillor for Cherbourg Aboriginal Shire Council. Health care, she says, is of major concern to the community. "That gap, it's not closing, it's getting wider. "A lot of people over the years are ending up with cancer, and by the time they find out they have cancer it's too late. "I'm just gonna call it straight how I see it, it's systemic racism through health, not just health but law and order and education as well." Many in the community, the site of a former mission, say issues of youth crime, substance abuse, and overcrowded housing are critical factors that will shape their voting decisions in this election. Cherbourg is a dry community, however Cr Fisher says drug issues are the real cause of much of the criminal activity. "We have the alcohol management plan here but that's not the problem, drugs are even bigger than alcohol, and even sniffing, but grief plays a big part in their lives as well," she said. Many of the youth in Cherbourg want to break the challenging cycle of crime and substance abuse. For 19 year old Koby Douglas, substance abuse is an everyday part of life but one that he hopes won't plague the Aboriginal community forever. "It's pretty bad, mainly with marijuana and ice," he tells NITV. "And with yarndi, it's pretty normalised today. "But a lot of people they don't see that it can affect you as well, mentally." Employed as executive assistant to Cherbourg Mayor Bruce Simpson, Mr Douglas is also worried about the spike in youth crime, not only for innocent bystanders, but he's fearful for the perpetrators themselves. "I'm afraid because there's a lot of people walking around on the streets," he said. "The stolen cars that drive around here, they drive pretty dangerously. "They could hit anyone driving in the street, and also I'm afraid for the people that's driving or in the stolen car as well." Nearly every family in Cherbourg includes members of the Stolen Generation, taken from their traditional homelands, and sent to the former mission site, then known as Barambah Aboriginal Settlement . "Generational trauma, it exists a lot, it's still here today," Cr Fisher said. "You look at child safety removing children – it's still happening today like it was back then. 'First of all, organisations and government, they need to sit down and talk with our people." Koby echoes what many in the town have called for. "Hear our people out," he says. "Come to Aboriginal communities and ask us what we want - what changes we want in this country and in our own backyard." Interviews and feature reports from NITV. A mob-made podcast about all things Blak life. The Point: Referendum Road Trip Live weekly on Tuesday at 7.30pm Join Narelda Jacobs and John Paul Janke to get unique Indigenous perspectives and cutting-edge analysis on the road to the referendum. Watch now

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