More say for Ma¯ori on health

In the documentary The Lost Boys of Taranaki, broadcast on the Vice NZ channel, troubled youths spend three weeks in remote New Zealand bush. Part of that involves three days alone, fending for themselves.

They are young, predominantly Ma¯ ori teens, standing at a crossroad, considering the next step that, one way or another, will determine the direction of the rest of their lives.

They’ve committed crimes, probably will commit more, but as the documentary progresses, one thing is clear: these hardened criminals in the making are still just kids, really.

There are many such teens, boys and girls, around the country, standing at that crossroad. They know that well in Northland, where Nga¯ puhi make up an unhealthy percentage of the prison population.

To help prevent them taking that wrong path and keep them from the clutches of older, more sophisticated criminals, the iwi has played a big part in launching Mahuru, the new Tai Tokerau Youth Remand Service.

The aim is to keep these youths out of traditional remand facilities, which Children’s Commissioner Andrew Becroft, the former Principal Youth Court Judge, has criticised as ‘‘outdated failures’’. Others regard them as finishing schools for criminals.

The new service is another example of Ma¯ ori stepping in to take more control of a sector that has an impact on their community, one they regard as failed and potentially racist.

Its success will be monitored by those who regard the country’s health system as a failure for

Ma¯ ori, in part because of institutional bias.

The statistics are well known and, frankly, lamentable: Ma¯ ori tend to die much younger than nonMa¯ ori, and they are more likely to die from preventable injuries and disease. Sadly, the list goes on and on.

Many will argue that access to the country’s healthcare system is the same for Ma¯ ori as it is for any other group, and that is hardly racist. But this is not true, nor is it fair. Those who can afford it access private healthcare, which is out of the reach of many Ma¯ ori.

There are, however, possible solutions. As is the case in Northland, many of the 200 people and groups fronting the Waitangi Tribunal with claims against our health system suggest that giving Ma¯ ori more of a say, and the resources to back that up, is one way to go.

There is merit in that argument. Wha¯ nau Ora was launched eight years ago to give Ma¯ ori more autonomy on the allocation of social services and health. NZ First leader Winston Peters hated the idea at the time, but even he, along with many others, is starting to acknowledge it may have been a success.

Funding to Ma¯ ori providers makes up less than 2 per cent of the health budget. Given the sorry statistics and the obvious insanity of doing the same things and expecting different results, it may be timely and prudent to increase that significantly and give Ma¯ ori more say in shaping their interaction with healthcare.