Citizens Advice Bureau has today released a powerful video to highlight and extend awareness of the Kōnae: My Records Guideopen_in_new website it has developed. The video is a koro’s story, told by his moko, of retrieving his records from when he lived in a children’s home.
Download the te reo Māori transcript (30 KB, Docx).
English transcript:
Text on screen: He Karere nā Ngā Pou Whakawhirinaki o Aotearoa – A message from the Citizens Advice Bureau NZ
This video was shaped by the experiences of real people and may be triggering for some viewers.
The people featured are actors.
Dedicated to all those who should have been safe, cared for and protected.
Teenage boy:
Have you ever pulled up a net and found something you weren’t expecting? My Koro has.
When Koro was a kid, he got told he’d been a little shit. So he got taken away from his home. Away from his whānau, away from everything he knew.
He was just a kid. And the people who meant to care for him? Yeah nah.
He…He tried to run, but they always found him. And every time he ran, they took him further away. Until he didn’t know where he came from anymore.
He always told me he was lost for years. But one day, he found a way to pull some of it back.
He started finding his records.
It wasn’t easy and it’s taken him years. Some places never got back to him. Others said they’d lost his stuff. A few told him no. Over time, he started finding his records. Koro’s been collecting his records ever since and yeah, his box is pretty heavy now.
Koro says finding his records from those times was like pulling up a net. Some stuff in there? Pretty hard to look at. Stuff he didn’t want.
But then there were also parts of his life. His whānau names. His whakapapa. Letters people wrote to him that he never got. His only photo from when he was a little kid. Little pieces of who he was, waiting to be found.
But here’s the thing—Koro wasn’t the only one. Some like koro were told it was because they were naughty, or that no one wanted them. Some were told it was because their bodies worked differently. And some? They weren’t given a reason.
Can you guess how many?
Hundred? Nah. Higher. A thousand? Nah. Six hundred and fifty-five thousand people. Each with their own story and their own family.
Six hundred and fifty-five thousand. That’s like thirteen thousand people every year, for fifty years.
It’s like the town size of Oamaru, Levin, or Cambridge being made to leave home every year. For fifty years.
So what’s this got to do with you? We want everyone to know two things:
First: That records were created about people from those times. Whether things took place in a foster family, a children’s home or a place run by a church.
And Second: That you have a legal right to your records.
So we built a website to help people find their records. We called it Kōnae. Because a kōnae is a small basket. But it can also mean the bottom of a fishing net—the place where everything gathers.
Koro says getting his records was like pulling up his kōnae—finding the bits of his life that were waiting for him. And now, they’re his to keep.
So listen to Koro. Like and share this video. And go check out Kōnae.
Koro:
Hey Moko. Time to head home mate.
Visit Kōnae today. My Records. My Rights."
Text on screen:
Kōnae: My Records Guide. Konae.org.nz
Kōnae is a website designed to help people know how and where to access their records from times when government, faith-based or other organisations were responsible for their guardianship or care.
“Creating a website with information that informs people about how to access their records is incredibly important and is something that we have been working on over the past year. Its design has been guided by survivors and people with lived experience.” said CAB Chief Executive Kerry Dalton.
Survivors testified before the Royal Commission of Inquiry into Abuse in Care that they encountered delays, missing or heavily redacted information, and sometimes deliberately hidden or destroyed files. The Commission recommended the creation of a website that would guide survivors through what remains a complicated and challenging process.
Kōnae makes accessing records easier. Users can quickly find organisations holding their records through an interactive map and request them directly using an online form. Developed over the past year, it is an important resource that simplifies the complex processes involved in requesting records.
“Survivors have both a legal and moral right to reclaim their records and stories when and if they wish to do this -- Kōnae now exists to help make this happen, says Ms Dalton.”
The Royal Commission found that between 1950 and 2019, more than 655,000 children, young people, and adults spent time in places where government and faith-based organisations were responsible for their guardianship or care.
Māori people made up a disproportionate number of those removed from whānau. Widespread, systemic abuse and neglect occurred in these places, impacting hundreds of thousands of people and generations of their families.
“Records can help people better understand decisions that were made about their lives and can be an empowering step toward healing. They can also serve as critical evidence for survivors seeking justice and redress,” said Ms Dalton.
“Hundreds of thousands of people in Aotearoa have had the experience of the state or another organisation making decisions about their guardianship or care. Our hope is the video will raise awareness so that people know that there is support and help for them to request and access their records.”
The project was funded by the government but at the request of survivors was developed independently from government.
“The CAB has a long-standing commitment to empower people to understand and exercise their rights. We are deeply honoured to have been tasked with developing Kōnae,” said Ms Dalton.
“We took a survivor-led approach in designing Kōnae, including careful consideration of language. Survivors made it clear they did not want to normalise phrases like 'state care,' because, as one survivor shared, ‘Care was the opposite of what happened to us’,” said Ms Dalton.
“That’s why we've chosen to say 'records' rather than 'care records,' and 'time spent in places like…' rather than 'being placed in care.'”
The name Kōnae was inspired by a survivor who helped develop the website. Removed from home as a small boy he began searching for his records in the 1990s and now has a box that weighs more than 20 kilograms.
“He told us that finding his records was like hauling in a net that carries part of your life story. Hauling it in has taken ages, it is hard, and heavy but worth it. In te reo Māori, Kōnae refers to a file, a woven basket, and the belly of a fishing net - symbols of gathering, sifting, and keeping what’s valuable. Kōnae embodies the process of reclaiming what matters, and offering users a place to recover, keep, or release parts of their history,” said Ms Dalton.
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