Action, not words, needed to close gap on indigenous health

Paul Toohey | September 30, 2008

DAVID Timber knows that he, as a 55-year-old Aboriginal man should -- statistically, at least -- be dead.

"I've been thinking about that lately, but I'm still alive," says Mr Timber, self-described "head bloke" of a little Aboriginal enclave in inner-city Darwin, the town camp known as One-Mile Dam.

Told of a report commissioned by Reconciliation Australia, which argues it would be financially beneficial for governments to close the gap on Aboriginal disadvantage, Mr Timber feels it has merely unearthed a self-evident truth.

"I've always agreed with that and believed in that," he says.

"But politicians do come and go -- and we've had more than our fair share visit here, even federal politicians."

The term "closing the gap" has in the past 12 months become the preferred jargon of governments and organisations to denote funded education and health programs and, more generally, the new rallying cry against Aboriginal disadvantage.

It also refers to Aboriginal life expectancies, which still have a long way to go before they mirror that of the non-indigenous population.

Mr Timber gets hooked up to a dialysis machine three times a week and counts himself lucky he has made it this far.

"I had to give up the grog because of what it was doing to me," he says. "And everything just started to come good. I ended up in hospital a lot from drinking. It has a lot to do with Aboriginal deaths, whether from accidents or health causes."

Like a lot of older Aborigines, Mr Timber and his wife find themselves being parents for a second time around.

"I've raised my kids and now I'm raising my grandkids," he says. "Again, that's because my daughter, she drinks a lot, and doesn't know how to look after the kids."

For him, the real gap can be found in a generation of 20- to 40-year-olds who missed out on agood education and now findthemselves in the grip of dependency.

One-Mile Dam is one of the 73 proscribed town camps and communities in the Northern Territory under the federal intervention. What this means is it gets a big blue and white sign out the front warning that alcohol and pornography are prohibited.

Mr Timber runs a pretty tight ship and is not scared to run off drinkers, but says it's a losing game.

"I've never been able to keep the alcohol out," he says.

"You can't. You're fast asleep and it comes in. You got to sleep some time.

"That sign out there, people read it while they're walking past with their grog under their arms. No one takes any notice of it.

"Education and health would go a long way to fixing up a lot

of these problems. You fix up

the problem now, it'll cost less later on."

Mr Timber senses a greater will among politicians but hopes it is more than just talk.

Marion Scrymgour, the Territory's Deputy Chief Minister and Indigenous Policy Minister, warns that "closing the gap" should not just become a set of empty, meaningless words.

"Rather, we've got to make sure the programs under closing the gap meet the targets we set. You've got to have some level of ambition given the low benchmarks we're starting from."

Ms Scrymgour says closing the gap must see a commitment that goes "beyond electoral cycles. People just become more and more cynical if it just goes from one election to the other."