Separated from children and away from parents

Ravisankar Venugopal’s son is 18 months old, but he hasn’t been able to see the boy since he was a newborn.

Venugopal’s wife gave birth in India for family and cultural reasons and stayed on after, while Venugopal – a geotechnical engineer – returned to work on projects including the Waikato Expressway.

February 2020 flights to New Zealand for wife Anitha Padinjaremarath and son Vihaan Ravisankar were cancelled.

‘‘Everything changed, and then they were stuck there,’’ Venugopal said.

Padinjaremarath was on maternity leave from a laboratory technician job which her employer tried to hold, but her contract ran out while she couldn’t get back into the country.

It’s one of many tough Covid situations for Kiwi Indians: separation from children, or from sick relatives back in India, not knowing when things might change.

A second wave of Covid is sweeping India and, last week, more than 314,000 new Covid cases were recorded in 24 hours.

New Zealand has designated India as very high risk, temporarily restricting travellers who aren’t citizens or their immediate families.

Venugopal, who is on a work visa, is stuck in his own way.

‘‘If I fly back to India I won’t be able to come back.’’

Padinjaremarath and Vihaan are in the Kerala area with family, but may be eligible for a recentlyopened critical purpose exemption for partners and dependant children of visa holders.

‘‘At the moment they’re safe. The family, they’re not going out much,’’ Venugopal said.

‘‘It’s a bit difficult [being separated] but it’s understandable given the situation . . . For me, I would say New Zealand’s government should have thought about bringing families before now, because they’re bringing all the others – like even cricket teams coming here to play.’’

Sija Soman’s five-year-old daughter guesses they’ve been apart about 10,000 months – ‘‘the highest number she can think of’’.

The pair were last together in December 2019, when Soman returned to India during a break from studying for a Masters in business and management.

She’s since found work with Hamilton City Council, but Covid derailed her dream of bringing her daughter Akshika over for a better future, and for husband Rajiv to come.

Their visa applications are still caught in a Covid-induced processing freeze, more than a year later, and the pair are in the northeastern Meghalaya region.

‘‘Going back would be kind of financial suicide for me,’’ Soman said. ‘‘I can’t afford to lose this battle.’’

Soman wrote to Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern in late 2020, unsuccessfully pleading for a border exemption for young children of temporary work visa holders.

Other ministers told her there was nothing they could do, so Soman was disappointed to later see groups such as the Wiggles and those associated with the America’s Cup allowed entry.

She’s feeling more hopeful after recent exemptions for some temporary visa holders.

In the meantime, she’s buying matching sets of books so she and Akshika can read together online, across the globe.

The painful separation is an everyday battle and taking a mental toll, Soman said.

She’s faced judgement for being away from her child but also hugely appreciates the workmates and friends who check how she’s coping.

Meanwhile, another Hamilton woman is unable to get back to her diabetic mother who caught Covid.

Simar, who did not want her last name used due to fears of racial abuse, said her 68-year-old mother was recently diagnosed.

Her mother and 74-year-old father – a heart patient – are isolating at home in Delhi.

‘‘They’re just worried. If they have to go to the hospital, what will they do? Hospitals aren’t accepting patients because they’re full,’’ said Simar, who is a New Zealand citizen.

‘‘I feel helpless.’’

Her parents don’t use computers, so their children are trying to remotely co-ordinate orders of food, medicine and the like from different parts of the world.

Her mother is doing better now she has some medication, but is very weak, she said.