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Joy’s story:
And so I spoke to a lady from Binjari camp,
an Aboriginal community just out of Katherine. She had a story to tell
about some trouble with the police. She’s a shy woman and though she wanted
me to write her story down and make it public, asked me to keep her name
secret. So I will call her ‘Joy’.
At Binjari via Katherine, Northern Territory,
not many people know there’s been a change of government. Not many people
know about government at all. Their politics are confined to bread, tea,
a roof, the avoidance of disease, grog and the persistent attentions of
the Northern Territory Police force.
If you’re a middle aged Aboriginal woman
in the remoter bush, bright hopes of legislative change and ‘better outcomes’
just don’t seem to penetrate. To find out what does, listen to a story
Joy told me about a recent event in her life. It is set down almost word
for word as she told it.
I am a sober woman I have not drunk alcohol
since my young days. On a date this year that I am not sure of, two policemen
assaulted my husband and my son. Bob is my husband. Ronnie is my son.
My country is Elliott. We are Mudburra people. I was born at Elliott and
grew up there. I have spent time at Kalkaringi and Wave Hill. I am 41.
I was born in 1959. I moved to Katherine before the floods. The whole
family lives together at Binjari Camp. My son Ronnie is about 21 years
old.
In September, there was trouble between
the police and my family, I took the car into Katherine from Binjari to
pick up my son in front of Kirbys (a hotel in Katherine). He had a girlfriend
named Robin. I didn’t know her. I only knew her first name. She is from
Walpiri Camp. My husband Bob was in the car with me, and so was our daughter
Cathy. She is 16 years old. Ronnie had rung me up from Katherine Hotel.
He said could I come and pick him up and his girlfriend as well because
his girl friend was drunk. He told me he was afraid that his girlfriend
was making trouble.
I always look after my son very well. My
other son passed away in W.A. long time ago. I always go into town to
pick him up if he needs me to.
As I came down Katherine Terrace approaching
Kirbys, I saw my son standing outside on the footpath with his girlfriend.
I walked across the road towards Kirbys to pick the girl up and I was
standing there and then the police arrived. She was sitting down all this
time. She didn’t say anything to me. But Ronnie told her to get up. Ronnie
was talking normal. He was not swearing. I first saw the police van coming
up and it parked right beside us. There were two policemen in it. Both
of them got out. The police said “Ronnie you’d better go back home.” Ronnie
said “No, I want to take my girlfriend back to Binjari.” After that, the
police put Robin in the van and locked her in it. Then they said “Ronnie
you’d better go back to Binjari.” Then they left in the car. I just told
my son to come with me and didn’t say anything to the police. We walked
back to the car. Ronnie got in the back and I was driving, with Bob in
the passenger front seat and Cathy in the back with Ronnie.
We drove away, and I saw the police following
me and they had their flashing lights on. I pulled over by the ANZ bank
in Katherine Terrace and parked. The police van pulled up behind me and
parked at the back of my car, blocking it. Both the police got out of
the car. They went round the back of the car. One of the police told Ronnie:
“Ronnie, you’re under arrest.” Ronnie said to him: “What for, I didn’t
do anything wrong, I just went in and got my girlfriend.” Both of the
policemen were young. One was skinny, the other was big, with curly hair,
like a rugby league player.
The curly haired one pulled Ronnie out
of the car. I got wild and got out of the car. I said to the police “You
should not do that to my son, why are you pulling my son from the car?
He didn’t do anything wrong, just wanted to pick up his girlfriend! I
am looking after my family.” The policemen did not say anything to me.
They just knock him down, like you knock the bullock down. They didn’t
even give him a chance to talk up. The curly haired one sprayed Ronnie
with the capsicum spray, and then they threw him on the ground.
When the big one with the curly hair threw
Ronnie on the ground, his head hit the bitumen. The curly haired one had
him on the ground belly down, and put his knee on his back and put the
handcuffs on. While the curly haired one was putting the hand cuffs on,
the skinny one put his boot on Ronnie’s head.
After that, Ronnie yelled out: - “Mum and
Dad, I can’t see, help me, help me.” Ronnie couldn’t breathe. After that,
I was crying for my son. Bob said “Hey, give my son a chance to get up!”
The police said “Get out old man!” Bob never touched the police. Bob was
sober. He only wanted to help Ronnie. The curly haired one sprayed Bob.
Bob was yelling. He said, “Hurry up, take me to the hospital.”
Both of the police dragged Ronnie to the
police van. He was having trouble getting in. They said to him: “Ronnie,
put your knee back.” He said “I can’t see!” The curly haired one and the
skinny one said “Get your knee in or we’ll slam the gate on it.” They
did slam the gate on Ronnie’s knee. Ronnie’s cap had fallen on the ground.
I picked it up and tried to give it to my son who couldn’t see because
he was real sore in his eye. I tried to hand it through the bars and one
of the cops just grabbed it. I said “Don’t be rude, you can take the cap
gently away.” Before they put Ronnie in they let Robin out. She had been
in the paddy wagon cage up till now.
After that, they drove away. Bob told me
“Take me to the police station before we go to the hospital” He wanted
to complain about those two cops. The sergeant came out. I said these
cops were rough to my son. He said they were good cops. He wouldn’t listen
to us. He just kept saying they were good cops. The sergeant never asked
me to come in and make a statement or write anything down.
I got Bob in the car and drove him to the
hospital. They put some stuff on his eyes. Stuff with the drip on it.
It wouldn’t work. We took him back to Binjari and he was in pain for nearly
a day. I took him to Kintore Clinic in First Street. They gave him some
drops. It helped a little bit.
That is her story.
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