Monday 11- Nov-2024 {HMC} Mohammed Abdiwali sexually violated women in 2014 and 2020. Now in and out of jail because of repeatedly breaching his release conditions, he has nowhere permanent to live so sleeps either on the streets or with meth-addicted friends, risking, he says, relapsing into his own addiction. “I’m meant to be a monster and I’m f…ing roaming around,” he tells journalist Paula Penfold, of his desperation to get control of his life in a system he says is failing him.
At the end of October, on his first night out of custody, Mohammed Abdiwali slept at Wellington train station.
Perhaps surprisingly, given I’d reported he was dangerous, he got in touch because he wanted to “highlight what is going on in my life”.
“Here I am today, I literally have nothing. Nowhere to go.
“And last night was pretty hard and rough. I could have gone to places that I know, for shelter, but the thing is those people, they use meth, and I don’t want to smoke.”
It’s a complex situation and a complex story to tell. After all, Abdiwali sexually violated two different women in 2014 and 2020. His is hardly a sympathetic case.
Earlier this year, Corrections applied for an Extended Supervision Order (ESO) to be imposed on Abdiwali, so that he could be subject to stringent monitoring, arguing he had “an emerging pattern of problematic harmful sexual behaviour against women”.
His second victim, Stephanie, we’ll call her, supported that application. “I do believe that he poses a risk to other women. I still think he’s a really high risk of going on to traumatise others in this same way,” she told Stuff.
But in his decision released in August, Wellington District Court judge Brett Crowley found the criteria were not met and declined to impose an ESO on Abdiwali.
Since being released last year after serving his sentence for the attack on Stephanie, Abdiwali has repeatedly breached his release conditions, winding up back in custody over and over.
So on being released again, at the end of October, he contacted Stuff to set out his situation, and in a series of phone calls and interviews since, has described how he believes the system is setting him up to fail — “throwing me in the deep end” — when he’s trying to do better.
“I have hurt people and made terrible decisions in my life,” he says. “I’m deeply ashamed of my past and what I caused, and the pain and hurt.”
But he says he now has two aims (well, three, but we’ll come to the third later).
“What I want to do is get a job, have a decent place to live and sort my life out.”
But he — and his Public Defence Service lawyer — believe he can’t move forward because Corrections’ assessment of him as high risk for the ESO application is overshadowing all his attempts, even though a judge disagreed with Corrections’ assessment.
Stuff understands Corrections has said Abdiwali could reside at Te Korowai, a residence for high-risk child sex offenders.
But Abdiwali claims he has been abused at Te Korowai in the past and does not want to return.
He says he wants the stability of social housing, but is getting nowhere, and in the weeks since his latest release has been sleeping either on the streets or in the homes of friends with drug addictions, exposure he wants to avoid.
The Ministry of Social Development (MSD) is responsible for first assessing his eligibility for social housing. If he’s deemed suitable social housing providers such as Kāinga Ora can be looped in.
In a letter to both agencies, provided to Stuff by Abdiwali, his lawyer wrote that it would be “improper for the Department of Corrections and other Government agencies to subvert the Court’s assessments and orders by creating a situation where Mr Abdiwali is denied any assistance for housing, other than if he agrees to reside at Te Korowai – a facility designed to house high risk child sex offenders”.
His lawyer noted that in Corrections’ oppositions to bail for Abdwali it had assessed him as “at increased risk of offending if he is homeless”.
“Having secure housing is a protective factor which reduces the risk of offending.
“I am concerned about this situation … Mr Abdiwali needs secure housing and an opportunity to rehabilitate and reintegrate into our community. In my view, Mr Abdiwali should be provided with secure housing as a matter of priority.”
Even Abdiwali’s second victim agrees, at least to an extent.
“It’s because I have a good heart,” says Stephanie, “that part of me feels sorry for him.”
But she also believes he is “an accident waiting to happen”. “Someone might take pity on him and …” she trails off.
A number of different government agencies have roles in Abdiwali’s case.
Kāinga Ora says it has not yet been involved in any discussions about housing for him. “Eligibility for social housing is determined by the MInistry of Social Development,” it said in a statement. “It is their job to assess and prioritise housing need and share the details of suitable applicants with social housing providers as homes become available.”
MSD could not comment on Abdiwali’s circumstances without a signed privacy waiver so it’s not yet known whether or not he’s been deemed eligible for assistance with housing.
Generally speaking, MSD says it can offer a variety of services to people who have recently left prison. “This could include some assistance with housing if a client is eligible.”
Corrections reiterated that the responsibility for sourcing and funding accommodation for offenders subject to release conditions is held by MSD. “The Ministry of Social Development complete their own risk assessments.”
Corrections says it has offered Abdiwali accommodation at a supported accommodation facility, “however he has refused to reside there”.
“We hold no information to suggest he has been assaulted or harmed while previously residing [there].
“Corrections has applied to the court on two occasions for a condition allowing us to direct this offender to reside at a specific address. On both occasions, this has not been granted by the court.”
It says its staff have been working hard to safely manage Abdiwali in accordance with his court-imposed conditions “through actively monitoring his compliance and ensuring he is held to account for any breaches”.
And so it came to pass.
During the series of phone calls with Stuff, Abdiwali’s desperation became increasingly evident. He spoke frequently of self-harming because of the stress he was under, and of thinking the only solution to his situation was that he should kill himself.
Then last Thursday, as he predicted might happen, Abdiwali tested positive for drugs.
He was returned to custody — but bailed again the next day.
“I just got out,” he texts.
I ask where he will sleep tonight.
“At my lady friend,” he replies.
And what about after that?
“I’m going to stay on the streets. I could stay at my other friends but they use.”
Victim advocate Ruth Money says the back and forth over Abdiwali’s case shows “the system is not set up to deal with high risk individuals,” and that he has slipped through the cracks.
She sheets that back to the District Court decision denying Corrections’ application for an Extended Supervision Order.
“This is the fallout. [The judgment] enabled this, whereas if he was under the care and protection of Corrections he — and the community — wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“I want to get the hell out of this country”
Which brings us to the third thing Abdiwali wants.
After his first sexual violation, in 2014, he claimed his motivation for committing such a serious offence was because he wanted to be deported to his home country, Somalia.
He still maintains that, telling Stuff it was on the advice of an uncle that he thought committing a serious crime might get him deported.
“Which I’m not proud of, I hurt someone.”
What couldn’t be reported previously, but can be now because Abdiwali has provided a confidentiality waiver, is that he is a refugee.
He has provided Stuff with hundreds of pages of immigration documentation, which sets out how he came to New Zealand in 2003, aged 12, as a UNHCR-mandated refugee.
But here’s where, again, things get complicated.
He says his refugee status was granted on the basis of false information: that Abdiwali is not his real surname, and that his mother, who is referenced in his refugee application as being deceased, is alive and well in Somalia. (He cites a phone call with her between himself, his lawyer, and an immigration official.)
“I want to sort my [immigration] papers out and get a job and go back home.”
Immigration New Zealand’s head of refugee status unit, Greig Young, says “Mr Abdiwali’s case is incredibly complex”.
He says INZ is aware Abdiwali states his name and date of birth are not correct.
But the rules are that, “individuals with refugee status cannot be deported unless their refugee status is ceased or cancelled under the Immigration Act”.
“Because of the unique circumstances of Mr Abdiwali’s case, it is unlikely he would meet the threshold for cancellation of refugee status.”
Stuff understands that because Abdiwali was so young, 12, when he came to New Zealand, he would not be deemed responsible for any inaccuracies in his documentation: he arrived here with adults, whose relationship to him is unclear.
“However,” says Young, “INZ can decide to cease an individual’s refugee status if their circumstances have evolved to the point where the individual is no longer in danger and does not need protection under the 1951 Refugee Convention.
“INZ also has the option to deport an individual under Article 33 of the Convention if an individual poses a threat to the community or national security,” he says.
INZ will not say whether it considers Abdiwali such a threat, but confirms that it is “working with him and his representative to determine his immigration options.
“This is complex and will take time to consider.”
On one of the hundreds of pages of documentation, there’s a photo of Abdiwali as a young boy, the picture of innocence.
Which he was, then.
“You see that boy?,” he says, in one of his phone calls.“This is the reason I want to go home. That will make me happy. I want to have dinner with my family.
“I need to sort my immigration and get the hell out of this country. I don’t want to be in this country. I’m very sad that I hurt women.
“But I didn’t want to come to this place. I want to go back home.”
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