Living through murder

Agony from the Greek agon – to struggle

And struggle we do as Dylan Thomas says “We rage against the dying of the light”. And we loose. We all loose.

 It is estimated that 80+ people will be murdered each year in Aotearoa New Zealand. For each murdered victim there could be up to 240 mothers, fathers, co-parents and siblings who will be directly affected. Then there are all the other family’s members who will be affected. There are also impacts on the communities that the victims mixed in. Local and wider communities and society as a whole will feel the force of these murders. The victims themselves will come from various communities: Maori, Pakeha, Pacifica, Chinese and Indian to name a few. The murdered will be our sons’ daughters, mothers, fathers, caregivers, aunties, kuias, koros, lovers, and friends, the list is endless. And for many family and friends the grief will not ease, it will shift and change but for many of us the very fabric of our lives has been ripped asunder and little will repair our worlds. Some of us will try and forget, some will write, others will turn their grief into a campaign, others will go back to work and watch as their relationships fall apart unable and unwilling to repair the damage. Others still will embrace the grief discourse and find hope and something good to hold onto so as to stay alive and functioning.  Whatever survivors of homicide do to survive their nightmare, each and every one of them will wake, each and every day feeling a loss that can never fully be understood by others who have not experienced this particular pain.

On the 27^th January 2009, a beautiful warm Kapaiti coast Tuesday evening, I became part of this group of people. On that evening in a small rural town called Murupara in the Bay of Plenty, a 32 year man, which under normal circumstances we, my partner, her daughter and I would never have met, in fact who we never have known about, took the life of my partner’s son Jordan Robert Herewini. On that night Jordan’s life was horrifically stolen, destroyed, and the gates of Hades were torn open and our lives changed forever. This is my story about experiences and understandings of Jordan’s murder and the life that Quentin Pukeroa the murder has forced us to live. This is not a Jordan’s story nor is it Natalie’s story, that story is for Natalie and Natalie’s daughter to tell. Whilst I will talk about Jordan, it will be information that can be found on the internet or from interviews that Natalie did.

So this is my story about how Jordan’s murder and living with such intense grief has changed my life.

A little about me:

I have always seemed to identify with the tarot card the ‘fool’. Whenever I see that card I see myself stepping of the precipice unaware – unafraid of what exactly is below – ignoring the warnings of those beside me. Head in the air I embraced the adventure of life chaos over order – impulse over rationality. Yet like the fool card there was my hidden side the side I shared only with partners this was the reverse of all that I was as the fool. Secretly I feared the unknown, took way to many risks and often had little clarity to the point of being impulsive and reckless and some times I was completely irresponsible – at the age of 47 I was far more aware of the diversity the constant flux and conflictual nature of my personality. For this reason the small dog stayed beside me as a reminder of the possibility of the outcome of stepping over the precipice no matter what excitement there was to be had and how spontaneous I wished to be I never shun the reminder. Life up until Jordan’ murder was a journey not always a pleasant one and never a straightforward one. Many of my friends and ex-partners would give testimony to the kaos that is Kyro. But mostly they would do it lovingly. Born in 1960 I was the end of the baby boom. An illegitimate child I grew up in a regimental closed family who put religion and hard work over and above all other things. I know there was little hope for me from and early time in my life – I was tainted with ‘bad blood’ and this in turn would lead me into temptation. I suffered at the hands of abusive parents and at the age of 16 ½ left home to begin my journey. And journey it has been over the last 33 odd years I have wandered New Zealand making my mark – leaving behind kaos and forging a life that at the age of 47 would lead me safely into new era. I was happy free educated and on the road – less foolish more aware but still looking for adventure. My partner was beside me and whilst our relationship would not have been given the harmonious award of the year – it was a solid and exciting relationship – two educated working-class women on a journey to new new possibilities.  Again like the fool card that followed my every step I was looking for new opportunities following my heart and being somewhat spontaneous. 

So meeting Nat and moving into her place within a week of knowing her was my spontaneity taking over gain and again I loved it.