For many survivors of sexual violence, silence feels safer than speaking out. Rafaella Melo reports in the final article of Hawke’s Bay Today’s series ‘You Are Not To Blame’.
A fear of not being believed, shame, a desire to protect loved ones.
Sexual abuse stories are often buried for years.
But the cost of silence can be high - it can lead to self-harm, isolation and repeated cycles of abuse.
In Hawke’s Bay, police recorded 2086 sexual offences in five and a half years - between January 1, 2020, and June 30 this year.
Yet experts say those figures only hint at the truth.
“Most of our clients never report their abuse,” said Karen Hart, counsellor and co-founder of Brave Foundation, a Hawke’s Bay charity supporting survivors of sexual harm.
“Reporting to the police, no matter how sensitively handled, is horrifically triggering. The process is long and drawn out ... They may tell their story to the police but decide not to take it any further.”
A Ministry of Justice report tracking sexual assaults reported to police across New Zealand between April 2018 and March 2024 reinforces that picture.
More than half of reported cases in 2022 ended with no action being taken against a perpetrator after police investigation, up from 42% in 2018.
The report attributes this rise to multiple factors, including lack of evidence, changes in how assaults are recorded, and a growing number of victims unwilling to continue with the process.
Ella* was one of them.
Assaulted three times in her life, the most recent was when she was 17, at a party - the attacker was someone she knew.
Police were involved, but Ella said she needed time to process what had happened and recover from what she described as “a very bad place”.
“About a year later, I still hadn’t decided whether I wanted to press charges, so the case was just sitting there,” she said.
“I was very alone, and just terrified and scared. It felt like I had no one.”
Counselling, she said, helped her start to rebuild.
“I dropped the case because it felt like it would unravel everything I did to get into a better place, and I just didn’t want to go backwards.”
Ella* decided to drop the case to protect her healing. Photo / Rafaella Melo
Napier woman Daisy* was abused for years during her childhood and kept silent out of “love”.
“You protect those you love. How do you protect them? You don’t say anything. So, you take all the blame, the shame ... that’s why I shut my mouth. That’s why I didn’t say anything,” she said.
Now an adult, Daisy says she recognises a wider cultural pattern of silence.
“A lot of us Māoris do that. We sweep s**t under the carpet.”
Daisy* says breaking her silence also meant breaking a cultural pattern that had kept abuse hidden for generations. Photo / Rafaella Melo
For a similar reason, Jess* stayed silent too.
She claims her experiences with abuse started from childhood with her biological father and continued with her biological mother’s partners.
At 16, she moved from Auckland to Hawke’s Bay seeking safety, but says she was assaulted again by someone else.
“I didn’t tell anyone because I just wanted it to be over. I just want to be done with that part of my life that had happened again,” she said.
Eight Hawke’s Bay women share their stories of sexual abuse, representing thousands of others in the region who carry similar experiences in silence. Graphic / Aaron Bryan
Sarah* was 11 when a trusted family friend began grooming her. At 13, she claims she was raped by him.
“I promised myself as a kid, while it was happening, that I would never, ever, ever tell anybody, because I didn’t want them to feel bad that they didn’t help or that they didn’t see it,” Sarah said.
“I didn’t want my parents to feel they failed as parents.”
Part of Sarah’s silence also came from not knowing that what was happening was abuse.
“My parents didn’t talk to me about what rape was, or grooming or paedophiles or anything ... The way I was raised, you don’t tell adults ‘no’. They are the priority,” she said.
“They told me, ‘don’t go with strangers,’ but he wasn’t a stranger.”
Years later, therapy through the Brave Foundation helped her find the right words.
“They gave me the language to say what had happened to me, because I didn’t know how to talk about it ... I didn’t even know what ‘grooming’ was,” Sarah said.
“I didn’t know that foundations like this even existed, which I think is a massive problem.
“There should be billboards of this kind of support up in every school, because if I knew that there was help like that as a 12-year-old, maybe I would have said something.”
Hart, a Brave Foundation counsellor, says the prevention starts with open lines of communication at home and at school.
“That means learning about healthy and unhealthy relationships, setting boundaries ... not everybody has the same values, not everybody out there is a friendly person.”
Hart said parents should make sure their children have someone they can confide in. Ideally, a parent, but if not, someone reliable they trust.
“Often going to police or even talking to parents can feel too hard at first,” she says.
“Tell a trusted adult. That’s the quickest and least threatening way to get help.”
While prevention is easier with younger children, it becomes more complex as teenagers gain independence, but there are still ways to stay “vigilant”, Hart says.
“Learning who their friends are, who their friends’ parents are, being vigilant, and having some rules - possibly not having social media in their bedroom at night,” she says.
“But I know it’s really hard to avoid that.”
Most cases, she added, involve someone the victim knows and trusts.
“For outsiders to notice, it’s often about changes in behaviour. If they suddenly become withdrawn, go quiet, get angry, or the quality of their work at school drops,” Hart says.
“If someone’s been abused from a young age, that change can be harder to spot. But for others, those shifts can be a signal.”
Brave Foundation runs two to three retreats a year, plus monthly activities, workshops and counselling.
Acting Detective Inspector Jamie Woods says sexual violence is an umbrella term and incorporates sexual assault, sexual harm, and sexual abuse.
Any sexual contact without freely given consent is a crime, Woods says.
“Police recognise that all matters of sexual violence can have destructive long-term consequences for victims, regardless of their age. The psychological and emotional trauma can be extreme and permanent.”
Woods said the process is victim-focused, with welfare and safety always the first priority.
“Police will then begin an investigation ... evidence will be assessed, and analysis and testing will occur where appropriate ... Police recognise that victims have different views on resolution and will consult with the victim before a charging decision is made.
“It takes an enormous amount of courage to speak up about sexual assault, which police recognise, and victim support services will always be made available.”
“I was pretty isolated ... I didn’t tell anybody for months ... I was in denial,” she said.
It was only after talking about that through therapy that she began to rebuild. Now 25 and living in Auckland, she works for Oranga Tamariki, supporting young people in the youth justice system.
“These kids have been through similar things. I can be there for them in a way I wish someone had been there for me ... It gives me a lot of purpose,” she says.
Speaking out, she said, gave her power back.
“Sharing my story is one way I can make change, so others know they’re not alone.”
Rafaella Melo has more than 10 years of experience as a journalist in Brazil. She has worn many hats, from radio and TV presenter and producer to magazine editor. She joined the Hawke’s Bay Today team in 2024 as a multimedia journalist.