Bringing-Them-Home-Report-Web

somebody come to the caravan and raped me. That person raped me and raped me. Icould feel the pain going through me. I cried and cried and they stuffed my head in thepillow. And I had nobody to talk to. It wasn’t the only night it happened.Oh God, it seemed like night after night. It seemed like nobody cared. I don’t know howlong it went on for, but night after night I’d see the bogey man. I never saw the person. Idon’t know who that person was.Then we were all taken away again to a new home, to another place. We were shuntedfrom place to place, still trying to catch up with schooling, trying to find friends. I had noone.I just couldn’t find anybody. And when I did have a friend I was shunted offsomewhere else, to some other place. Wanting my mother, crying for my mother everynight, day after day, knowing that she’d never come home or come and get me. Nobodytold me my mother died. Nobody …They shifted us again and that was into town again. And then they put us in with thisbloke … They’ve got records of what he did to me. That man abused me. He made usdo dirty things that we never wanted to do. Where was the counselling? Where was thehelp I needed? They knew about it. The guy went to court. He went to court but they didnothing for me, nothing. They sent us off to the Child Psychology Unit. I remember thechild psychologist saying, ‘He’s an Aboriginal kid, he’ll never improve.He’s got behavioural problems’. I mean, why did I have behavioural problems? Whydidn’t they do anything?Why did I have behavioural problems?I hit the streets of Adelaide. I drank myself stupid. I drank to take the pain, the misery outof my life. I couldn’t stop. I smoked dope, got drugs. I tried everything. I did everything. Ijust couldn’t cope with life. I lived under cardboard boxes. I used to eat out of rubbishbins. I’m so ashamed of what I’ve done.I suffer today. I still suffer. I can’t go to sleep at night. It’s been on for years. I just feelthat pain. Oh God, I wake up in the middle of the night, same time. My kids have askedme why I get up in the middle of the night and I can’t explain it, I can’t tell them –shamed. I can’t sleep too well with it. I can’t go to bed. I leave it ‘til 12 o’clock sometimesbefore I go to bed. I lay there awake, knowing I’m gonna wake up at that time of themorning, night after night. I often wish I was dead. I often wish I was gone. But I can’tbecause of my children. You can’t explain this to your kids. Why did this happen? I hadnobody.I’ve had my secret all my life. I tried to tell but I couldn’t. I can’t even talk to my ownbrothers. I can’t even talk to my sister. I fear people. I fear ‘em all the time. I don’t go out.I stay home. It’s rarely I’ve got friends.I wish I was blacker. I wish I had language. I wish I had my culture. I wish my familywould accept me as I am. We can’t get together as a family. It’s never worked. We fight,we carry on. I’ve always wanted a family.