The decision to disclose sexual abuse is often a split-second choice that can rewrite the entire trajectory of a person’s life. For Keelie McMahon, that moment arrived in mid-2019 during a conversation with her mother about a police report involving a family friend.
The Cost of Silence and the Path to Disclosure
James Geoffrey Griffin, a registered nurse at Launceston General Hospital’s Paediatric Centre and a massage therapist for children’s sporting teams, was a well-liked community member. Still, he too groomed and sexually abused an unknown number of children in his care, including Ms. McMahon.
Following Ms. McMahon’s disclosure, Griffin was charged with the historic sexual abuse of at least five young girls, with some incidents dating back to the 1980s. He took his own life in October of that year, avoiding a court appearance for his crimes.
Now 29, Ms. McMahon serves as a social worker and a lived experience advocate for Laurel House, a not-for-profit support service in northern Tasmania. She notes that a lack of education regarding body boundaries and a delay in social norms in Tasmania may have prevented her from speaking up sooner.
Navigating a ‘Judicial’ Rather Than Justice System
Ayla Williams, 27, also advocates for Laurel House after enduring her own ordeal. In September 2020, Ms. Williams was raped by a man her family had been housing to help him get back on his feet.
Her decision to report the crime led to a three-year process within the legal system, which she describes as a “lottery” where experiences depended heavily on the individual staff members encountered. The perpetrator ultimately pleaded guilty and was sentenced to four years in prison in October 2023.
Ms. Williams distinguishes between a “justice system” and a “judicial system,” stating that law and justice are not always mutually exclusive. She emphasizes that the system often requires trauma to be “measurable” to be processed.
A National Crisis of Underinvestment
The experiences of individuals in Tasmania reflect a broader national trend. According to the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS), an estimated 89,400 people aged 18 and over experienced sexual assault across Australia in 2024-2025.
Further ABS data from 2022 suggests that 2.8 million people aged 18 and older have experienced sexual violence since the age of 15. A 2023 Child Maltreatment Study estimated that 28.5 per cent of Australians experienced sexual abuse before age 18.
Nicole Lambert, chair of the National Association of Services Against Sexual Violence (NASASV), warns that services are currently “buckling under the weight of demand.” She points to a significant underinvestment in sexual violence response compared to family and domestic violence (FDV) funding.
Whereas the federal government announced a $291.7 million funding boost in March—a 72 per cent increase for frontline workforces—Assistant Minister Ged Kearney noted this was intended to provide legal support and fresh homes for women escaping violence.
The Challenge of Conflated Categories
Ms. Lambert argues that sexual violence and FDV are often conflated by policymakers. While sexual violence can be a tactic within FDV, a vast amount of it occurs entirely outside that context.
This conflation may lead governments to believe they have already addressed sexual violence when they have only funded the domestic violence aspect. Tens of thousands of victim-survivors may be going without necessary support.
The Australian Law Reform Commission (ALRC) recently found that nine out of 10 women do not report sexual violence to police, often because the experience is “re-traumatising.” The commission issued 64 recommendations to improve access to resources and key support.
Potential Paths Forward
Improving outcomes for survivors may depend on the implementation of a dedicated sexual violence prevention framework. Such a move could provide the necessary resources to scale up a sector that currently includes more than 120 services nationwide.
Increased investment could potentially expand access to forensic and medical responses. Currently, some survivors must drive or fly for several hours to reach these services, a requirement that may be unrealistic given the nature of their trauma.
If these systemic barriers are reduced, more survivors will feel supported enough to seek legal recourse and medical care, potentially reducing the long-term compounded impacts of abuse.
Frequently Asked Questions
What is the definition of sexual violence?
Sexual violence is an umbrella term that refers to any sexual behaviours or acts committed against a person’s will, including sexual assault, sexual harassment, exploitation, child abuse, and threats.
How common is sexual violence by someone known to the victim?
According to the ABS, 20 per cent of women—equivalent to 2 million women nationwide—experienced sexual violence by a man already familiar to them, compared to 6.1 per cent who experienced it by a male stranger.
What did the ALRC report conclude about reporting rates?
The report noted that nine out of 10 women did not report sexual violence to the police, citing that the experience with the justice system was often “re-traumatising.”
Do you believe that separating sexual violence from domestic violence in government funding would better support survivors?
