Opinion & Commentary
Life after kava needs education, real jobs
As part of the Northern Territory ‘emergency intervention’, the Australian Government announced a ban on the import of kava, a ceremonial drink from the Pacific Islands that was introduced into North East Arnhem Land in the 1980s.
This import ban has stopped the Northern Territory Kava Management Programme that provided more than 26 tonnes of kava annually to six Aboriginal areas in the Nhulunbuy hinterland, generated sales worth nearly four million dollars a year and returned estimated profits of about two million dollars a year to the local Ganybu wholesaler and retailers. Those who drink up to the 400 gram weekly limited pay out between $60 and $100 a week.
Many Aboriginal communities have welcomed the ban that promises to end the weekly bouts of kava-induced torpor, though predictably those who benefits from the kava profits resent the ban. But the worry is: what comes after kava? Will it lead to more alcoholism or to the rise of cannabis and other drugs?
Kava was introduced in the 1980s because it was argued that Aborigines have addictive personalities that drive them to alcoholism and alcohol-fueled violence. Kava, by contrast, is numbing, so that even excessive consumption does not lead to mayhem.
Excessive consumption did, however, bring with it significant health issues. Until 2006, the Northern Territory Treasury’s Division of Racing, Gaming and Licensing recommended a maximum weekly consumption of 800 grams. This was then reduced to 400 grams when research suggested that only 240 to 400 grams a week was safe. Of course, until imports were stopped in June 2007, kava drinking was still knocking out whole communities for two or three days a week and many drinkers consumed more than the 400 grams a week with considerable immediate and long term ill health effects.
The ending of kava sales could be highly beneficial. It will, however, have positive effects only if the factors that make the Nhulunbuy hinterland dysfunctional are tackled. If the underlying deprivation is not ended, alcohol and drugs are likely to replace kava – not because Aborigines, or their culture, are particularly susceptible to substance abuse, but because that is the widespread consequence of economic and social squalor. Indeed, in Yirrkala, it is being put around that alcohol consumption has already risen, even though kava is still available.
The situation of Aborigines in the Nhulunbuy region is an enigma, because it has rich economic opportunities, unlike many other ‘homeland’ locations. The Gove bauxite mine and alumina refinery provide the largest source of private employment in the Northern Territory, but a short drive from Nhulunbuy in Yirrkala and in the rest of the Nhulunbuy hinterland almost all Aborigines are without jobs and so welfare dependent. Almost all managers and service providers in the region – not only doctors, dentists, nurses and teachers, but also electricians and plumbers - are not Indigenous. The highly skilled and well paid mining labour force is recruited from all over Australia, in marked contrast to Northern Territory mines such as the Argyle Diamond mine that has been recruiting and training Aborigines to meet its target of a 40 per cent Indigenous share of its labour force.
A significant factor that has contributed to the low employment of Aborigines in the Nhulunbuy hinterland is the absence of mainstream education at pre-school, primary and secondary level. The content of schooling is so poor that most children do not progress even to dumbed down Year 6 levels. Most children are so bored at school that absenteeism is a serious problem when schools are open. Teaching terms are short and schools are forever closed down for prolonged funerals. The very few primary school graduates that go on to mainstream secondary schools have to have remedial tutoring.
There is no mainstream secondary education for Aboriginal children that would enable them to go on to learning on the job, to TAFEs or to universities. Most teenagers and young adults in the Nhulunbuy hinterland can barely write their name. They can not use a tape measure. Nhulunbuy region youngsters have no hope of a job or a meaningful life.
Compounding the situation are the hundreds of so called ‘training’ courses given in the region that continue the pretence of education. Bored youngsters and adults sign on. But the ‘training’ takes the lack of English, literacy and numeracy as given. Pretend courses are available in an amazingly large range of subjects including ‘retail operations’, ‘early childhood studies’, ‘basic computing’, ‘horticulture’, ‘plumbing’ ‘plant operation’, ‘general construction’, ‘first aid’ and ‘automotive electrics’. They do not lead to real jobs but to CDEP ‘sit-down money’. The only ‘training’ beneficiaries have been the trainers and their institutions.
In addition, the CDEP system has long discouraged efforts to get real jobs. It had to be stopped. However, there are no signs yet that the steps necessary to transform the CDEP system are understood or that the new hands-on staff required to lead a transformation from CDEP are being appointed. The Nhulunbuy Indigenous Cooperation Centre must replace CDEP by real funding for local government. More importantly, workers will have to earn payments of $15 an hour for unskilled labour by really working and learning on the job
The Nhulunbuy region could thrive if the population could access education and thus jobs, particularly in mining. Jobs are key if the region’s shocking health and housing are to be improved and alcoholism and other substance abuse are to be ended. There are possibilities of agricultural, seafood and tourism industries that underpin prosperous coastal areas in Australia. Private housing on 99 year leases could create a construction industry with new jobs if all labour used was local. Other service industries would grow. Improved accountability for mining royalties could see the Nhulunbuy region see improved living standards from the millions that it has received in royalties.
This is the answer to what happens after kava.
Emeritus Professor Hughes is a senior fellow of the Centre for Independent studies in Sydney where her paper Kava and After was released on Monday 8 October.
