COMMENT

There is no question the issues facing Ballina Shire’s Nyangbul people — and in particular the former residents of Cabbage Tree Island — deserve to be heard.

So too does the frustration.

Representatives from the Jali Aboriginal Land Council are today jetting off to New York to address the United Nations Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues, where they plan to raise concerns about displacement following the 2022 floods and proposed changes to Crown land laws.

According to local news reports, the eight-member delegation will spend up to two weeks in the Big Apple, speaking about the challenges faced by their community and the need for Indigenous voices to be heard in disaster recovery and decision-making.

On one level, you can only wish them well.

These are serious matters, and if the international stage helps shine a light on them, that can only be a positive.

But it also raises a difficult question closer to home — what has actually changed in the four years since the floods?

Many in the Northern Rivers were able to return to their homes, clean up and begin rebuilding within weeks.

That opportunity was never afforded to the people of Cabbage Tree Island.

Instead, residents were relocated, with many ending up in temporary pod-style accommodation at Wardell — a solution widely criticised at the time as inadequate and lacking dignity.

You don’t have to look far to understand why this issue still resonates so strongly.

Back in 2022, I was a newly elected member of Ballina Shire Council — and like many in the community, a shell-shocked flood victim trying to make sense of what had just happened.

My own property had gone under, along with those of neighbours further up the floodplain.

Within days, we were allowed back in.

It wasn’t easy. It was confronting, exhausting and at times overwhelming, but it was also cathartic — the simple act of cleaning out the mud and beginning the long process of rebuilding.

That opportunity was never given to the people of Cabbage Tree Island.

Above: One of the homes on Cabbage Tree Island, still vacant four years after the disaster. (Image: NBN News)

Main photo: some of the group of eight Jali Land Council elders pictured before leaving for New York (Image: 7 News Coast)

At the time, they were locked out of their homes and told they would not be returning, a situation that, from the outside, felt like a bureaucratic nightmare playing out in real time.

I spoke out publicly, not in criticism, but in the hope that the same opportunity afforded to the rest of us could be extended to that community.

Instead, it triggered my first formal complaint under the council’s code of conduct process.

My comments were clearly interpreted by the Jali board at the time as criticism, something I had no hesitation in apologising for, because that was never the intent.

The intent was simple — fairness.

That is why it is so difficult to comprehend that, four years on, many from that community remain in limbo.

To be fair, there are signs of progress.

The Land Council says it has successfully lobbied for flood-resilient housing on the island, and government has indicated a project plan is being finalised to guide the eventual return of residents.

But for many, it is simply not happening fast enough.

“People just want to go home,” as one the elders told NBN News — a sentiment that still resonates years on.

You also have to wonder what the cost of all this is, particularly given that former Communications Minister Annika Wells’ much publicised trip to the United Nations in September last year — a three-day summit accompanied by two staff members — came in at just under $95,000 to taxpayers.

No detail around the cost of the Jali delegation has been included in local media reports, and Ballina News Daily was not invited to the press conference where such questions might reasonably have been asked.

You do have to wonder whether Indigenous communities in Australia can ever truly get a fair go when so much of what shapes their lives remains tied up in layers of bureaucracy.

At times, it risks echoing an older system — not in form, but in effect — where decisions about people’s lives are made by others, and progress moves at the pace of process rather than need.

Today those structures are more complex, and in many cases community-led, but the red tape remains — and the outcomes, in places like Cabbage Tree Island, speak for themselves.

As for the United Nations, there is a legitimate question about what it could possibly achieve.

It can provide a platform, it can host discussions, it can issue statements — but can anyone point to any meaningful, practical outcomes for communities on the ground?

It is hard to see how a two-week forum in New York will succeed where years of local decision-making have struggled.

The question now is not whether they should have gone, but rather will it make a difference.

International advocacy has its place, but real change for communities like Cabbage Tree Island ultimately depends on decisions made much closer to home — by governments, agencies and local leadership.

At a time when many across the Northern Rivers are still struggling with housing, including Indigenous families, it is reasonable to ask whether this is the best use of limited resources.

That is not a criticism of those making the trip.

It is a broader question about priorities.

The people of “Cabbo” have waited long enough.

If this trip helps unlock progress, it will be worth it.

But if it does not, the community is entitled to ask why.

As Frank Sinatra sang of New York, “If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere.” 

Let’s hope they make it there — and make it count when they come home.