Hometown: Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland
Age when entered care: 5 years old
Year of birth: 1968
Type of care facility: Catholic schools – Sacred Heart Primary in Tāmaki Makaurau Auckland.
Ethnicity: Samoan and Irish
Whānau background: Frances is the eldest of five children and lived with her mum and dad. 

Mum and Dad met in their mid-twenties at St Pats Auckland City Youth Group. My household was very busy with my immediate family and lots of relations around. We went to mass every week, that was not questioned.

Dad was a lawyer. He was also involved with the Polynesian Panthers, due to the Dawn Raids. We had the police coming to our door – I remember being there and seeing my dad yelling “I’m a New Zealand citizen, you can’t come in, you have no right to be here, you cannot enter”. It was scary at the time, waking up and hearing Dad going off at them. Dad spent a lot of time helping and advising people about their immigration rights. There was a lot of stress on him, he was seeing what was going on and doing his best to help people get their immigration papers.

Dad was also a chronic alcoholic, although he later gave up drinking when I was 14 years old. He wasn’t engaged as a father. As a result of his alcoholism, he ended up committing fraud and later went to prison. He went into detox due to his court case, and I remember at the time that he felt he would die from the effects of detox. In feeling that he might die, he made a recommitment to the Lord.

I remember he was in prison for about a year, which was very hard. People ostracised us, and the worst was church. We found out who our real friends were too during that time. When Dad got out of prison, he decided to help others with alcohol and drug addictions. He successfully managed a drug and alcohol rehabilitation centre run by churches in Ngaere, Taranaki, then later started Pacific Motu Trust, one of the first organisations that ran drug, alcohol and job training programmes for Pasifika. He went on to receive an MNZM for his services to the Pacific Island community.

I went to Sacred Heart Primary from 5 years old to 11 years old. One particular Sister at Sacred Heart was known as being a disciplinarian. I remember her taking off her thick, high heeled shoe to hit students on the back of their legs or backside in front of school assemblies while we were all lined up to watch.

I had a Māori friend from next door who also attended Sacred Heart. One time, she invited me to come to meet Brother Bede (Fitton) after school one day. I understood this to be a fun thing to do after school. This was at the Marist Brothers Intermediate next door.

She brought me along and we drew on the blackboard, talked and spent time. This was in the company of Brother Bede (Fitton). Initially I thought it was fun to play and get to draw on blackboard and learn something different. After a while I would visit Brother Bede (Fitton) by myself and that is when the abuse would occur.

Brother Bede (Fitton) would be fondling me or would want me to take my pants off and stand me up on a table and get me to read books. I was not sure what else he was doing because I was reading the book. Another time I was on his knee he was fondling around my private parts. This occurred regularly between ages 5 and 7 years old. I never saw Brother Bede (Fitton) at any other time apart from these sessions.

The abuse stopped when I stopped going to the classroom after school. I just stopped going, just decided I didn’t have to keep going.

I didn’t tell anyone at the time about the visits or the abuse. My parents did not know I was going to see Brother Bede (Fitton). I didn’t spend very long there during a visit, so I am not sure if they were aware I wasn’t coming home directly after school.

I grew up to be a teenager with very low confidence, I was quiet and reserved and also very angry. I actually hated who I was, my family and where I had come from. I did not like to be around men, I didn’t like any male attention. At 16 years old, I discovered a personal relationship with God because I wanted to experience God’s unconditional love for me. But soon after this life-changing spiritual experience, I experienced flashbacks and nightmares and had an awareness that something happened at school. When it popped up, I would push it aside. At university, as my relationship with God was developing, some things occurred where I began to acknowledge the abuse. I told a friend at my Bible study group about the abuse I suffered. Shortly thereafter at a conference, I listened to a speaker talk about sexual abuse and realised it happened to me. The conference hosts encouraged us to come forward if this had happened. I wrote my name on a comment 
card, and this was told to the Christian organisation that I was a part of and they instigated me getting counselling.

The abuse I suffered has affected my entire life. I have found it difficult to trust others and to maintain good friendships. I have suffered from depression and sleeping problems at times, and I’ve wondered if my health problems with fibromyalgia, which crippled me for years, might have been triggered by the trauma. Due to my anger towards men, I had to work on that anger and a deep mistrust of men. It is surprising to me that I could have married my husband Timo and that he could work with that.

I eventually told my parents about the abuse in 2001–2002. There were many barriers that prevented me from telling my parents sooner. Shame was very relevant, as it was quite shameful that I had gone through that terrible trauma and experience, and that it was related to sex which is a taboo. Although I’ve had a blended culture, in our family we don’t talk about sex. I was worried from a cultural perspective about telling my father of the sexual nature of the abuse.

I didn’t know if I would be believed. At the forefront of my mind was my dad’s experience working with rehabilitating offenders and that he always saw the good in them, I was concerned he may try to explain the abuse.

Faith, and my parents’ strength of faith in the Catholic Church was a significant reason why I didn’t tell them sooner. Catholicism, for my family, is a cultural way of life. If I told my parents what Brother Bede (Fitton) did, I would be calling into question my parents’ faith. I didn’t want to be a source of pain for them. I also didn’t want them to feel like their parenting or parenting choices had caused this to happen to me. The respect one feels for their parents is very strong in my culture, so it would cause me emotional turmoil to think about how they might take it.

My mother was so angry when I told her about the abuse that she called up the church and spoke to someone that she knew quite well. They suggested I could talk to someone in the Church and document what happened. I attended a meeting with a woman from the Marist Brothers Protocol Committee with my husband. I remember the woman had a list of columns with names. She pointed out my name on the list and I saw it next to Brother Bede (Fitton)’s section. I believe this was a list of perpetrators and the victims who had made complaints. The list was arranged by perpetrator. The list was many pages and the section on Brother Bede (Fitton) was long and had many names.

I wasn’t too impressed with the outcome, I don’t recall an apology, I don’t recall them trying to explain what happened. I got a letter, and I threw it out because I was so upset. Following my complaint, I was offered compensation. I did not want it. I said to give a donation to my Ministry if they wanted to. The Church said in 2002, Brother Henry Spinks, donated $6,000 in mine and my husband's name to our Ministry. But I never received the donation. It was not done in my name or in my husband's name.  I have never received redress for the abuse I suffered.  

I was quite upset that there wasn’t more that the church did. I wanted to know how this could have happened, how was there so very little supervision of Brother Bede (Fitton). They just did that one counselling session and that was it. I did not speak to or hear from anyone more senior. No one told me what happened to Brother Bede (Fitton) or if he was still working with children. It was never suggested that we might go to the police.

I have since been offered the opportunity to begin a dialogue with the Marist Brothers to discuss my questions. I have been told that I was one of four or five complaints about Brother Bede (Fitton), and that he is now deceased.

Source

Witness statement of Frances Tagaloa (2 October 2020).