Loading Ms Fogliani cited the “crushing effects of intergenerational trauma and poverty upon entire communities” in her findings following an inquest into the deaths. “Layered on top of their physical ill health, the children and young persons often experienced a dysfunctional home environment,” she wrote. “Unfortunately, alcohol abuse and domestic violence within the home was a common feature.” In Broome, (where a 17-year-old boy who hanged himself on the town oval, and a 24-year-old father who hanged himself in a backyard made up two of the cases investigated by the Coroner), this abuse of alcohol, abject poverty, and overt violence is not hidden from view.

Anyone visiting the town centre can see the devastation wrought on those who’ve come to Broome to drink. “Many of them did not live with their parents, and a number of them were transient between different Aboriginal communities, living in overcrowded and/or inadequate housing arrangements.” It’s easy to see the situation these kids are in as hopeless. Just don’t tell Sarah Sihlen that. The kids are alright

“There is always hope,” Ms Sihlen says. Aleisha Clements and Naomi Appleby working the night shift for HYPE. Credit:Kate Hedley “I have full faith in the kids that come to us that 99 per cent will be fine. They will be happy, healthy adults.” Sarah manages youth services for Broome Youth and Families Hub which, as well as operating life skills programs, parenting groups and camps for local children, runs the HYPE night patrol that ferries local kids to and from the drop-in centre on Friday and Saturday nights. When I join the HYPE crew it’s 6.30pm and the phone line is already running hot.

It won’t stop all evening, as children all over Broome call to request a pick-up or drop-off to the “chilling space” on Dora Street. The van – staffed tonight by the eternally patient Aleisha and Naomi – is a well-known fixture on Broome’s streets. The service can run until one or two in the morning, making sure children are getting home safely. The night I tag along is brutally hot and humid. The stickiness in the van is compounded by the little body who insists on riding up front between me and the driver.

Topsy, one of the children I met while in Broome, wants to be an artist when she grows up. Credit:Kate Hedley That little body belongs to Topsy, who is seven. She wants to be an artist when she grows up. Her favourite colours are pink and purple. Topsy’s just one of dozens of Broome children who make use of the HYPE van and drop-in centre. She loves to “cruise” on night-time pick-ups. “HYPE is okay,” one little boy tells me once he’s climbed aboard. “It’s good, yeah. I play basketball at drop-in.”

A second later the same boy is hanging out of the van window, yelling at a group of people gathered outside a house on Anne Street to “stop drinking and go to sleep!”. A constant flow of children use the van to get to the youth centre. It’s a break from the drinking and violence at home for some. For others it’s a chance for some “girl talk” with Aleisha and Naomi, or an opportunity to strut their stuff on the basketball court. Not every child who uses the service is at risk; a point Ms Sihlen is at pains to make clear. “The centre is open for any child,” she says.

Loading “We get a mixture of kids, predominantly they are Aboriginal, but anyone is welcome. “These children are absolutely not all ‘at-risk’.” Progress must come from within HYPE and the Broome Youth and Families Hub may not be the ‘magic potion’ so desperately needed by so many children in Broome. But it does its best to engage with young people.

The children and young people at the centre of the most recent inquest are not the end of the story when it comes to Indigenous youth suicides in the Kimberley, or anywhere in Australia. The Australian’s WA bureau chief Paige Taylor reported in January that four Aboriginal girls had already taken their own lives this year. This was on top of the estimated 180 Indigenous suicides – of which more than 50 were children – Australia-wide in 2018, according to Indigenous Critical Response team head Gerry Georgatos, who spoke to Taylor for her story. At this rate, it’s highly unlikely this latest inquest will be the last. It had been a decade since the previous one, and there are many in Broome who think the next one will be forced much sooner than in 10 years.

WA’s Minister for Health and Mental Health Roger Cook said as a father, he found the stories outlined in the Coroner’s report heartbreaking. Loading “The pain and grief experienced by those impacted by these young deaths is unimaginable,” he said. “The problems are complex, multifaceted and deep rooted but we are committed to improving the wellbeing of young people in WA.” Ms Sihlen hopes future “solutions” for the Kimberley involves community consultation and a degree of flexibility around program delivery.

She firmly believes the children are the future. “The more money you pour in to people’s wellbeing and potential at a young age, the better outcomes we will have in the long term,” she said. “But we need voices from all levels – teenagers, adults, local people definitely need to be part of the planning and implementation of projects.” Ms Sihlen's point about Aboriginal people needing to be involved in service design and delivery, not just consultation, has been echoed by the Telethon Kids' Institute and repeatedly emphasised in the Coroner's report. A matter of hope

It’s been a week since I visited Broome to see for myself the living conditions of some of the town’s most at-risk people. I’ve documented the shocking prevalence of alcohol-related dysfunction, and been accused of sensationalising the issues that have given rise to such devastation in the Kimberley. Please trust me when I say there is no sensationalising this. What I saw in one of our most beautiful towns left me reeling. Third-world living conditions among those sleeping rough, and a sense of despair among many I spoke to were recurrent themes.

The fact is, Indigenous children in Australia are up to seven times more likely to be the subject of substantiated reports of child abuse than non-Indigenous children, according to the Australian Institute of Family Studies. But the children gave me some hope. Those I met during my time on ‘patrol’ want to be football players, teachers, and police officers. They talk about school, and while one little girl tells me “it’s crap”, she goes on to talk about her friends in her class and the sports she loves to play. Broome children play basketball at the drop-in centre, which is a hub for local kids. Credit:Kate Hedley They laugh readily. They’re bright and energetic.

In most of them, all I saw was the joy of being a kid in a safe environment, surrounded by people who really cared about them. These kids are the lucky ones. There actually are children in the Kimberley – and all over the country – who are “gettin’ raped”. These are the ones keeping me awake at night. How can anyone sleep until every child is safe?