Indian parents fight to clear name after child abuse conviction saw baby seized

An Indian family has spent six years battling government agencies to prove their innocence after Oranga Tamariki seized their 10-week-old baby in 2018 and sent the mother to prison for child abuse.

Their story has since been reported on Newsroom's Fractured podcast by investigative journalist Melanie Reid.

Zita and Ravi, who spoke on condition of anonymity, have spent the past six years navigating New Zealand's child protection and immigration systems in a bid to overturn an allegation that turned their lives upside-down.

Their ordeal started when their 8-week-old baby was taken to Starship Hospital in 2018, referred by their GP for suspected meningitis.

A CT scan revealed a non-depressed linear skull fracture and subdural haemorrhages - bleeding between the skull and the brain.

A full-body X-ray showed fractures in 18 ribs, as well as in the baby's left femur and tibia - 39 fractures in total.

Blood tests revealed extremely low levels of calcium and vitamin D.

Within 24 hours, hospital specialists concluded the injuries were non-accidental.

Baby K, as she is referred to, was hospitalised for 12 days before being placed in foster care.

In 2021, Zita was convicted of intentionally injuring her newborn daughter and sentenced to two years and seven months in prison.

During the three-week trial, four Starship doctors testified that the injuries were consistent with abusive head trauma.

No medical experts appeared in Zita's defence, and she has consistently denied harming her child.

Meanwhile, Baby K was moved between four different foster homes.

Ravi, who has no criminal convictions, was repeatedly denied custody by Oranga Tamariki until April this year.

When Zita was released after serving most of her sentence, the state maintained custody of Baby K and began deportation proceedings against her.

Ravi, whose visa depended on his wife's, also faced deportation.

He is currently in the process of applying for an extension to his visa.

A family pulled apart

Zita came to New Zealand hopeful of a bright future but is now thinking of leaving after years of hardship and separation from her daughter.

"I came to New Zealand with so many dreams, but now I'm thinking of leaving," she said.

Zita said her dream of building a life in New Zealand had been shattered.

After spending two years in prison over what she and her husband claim was a miscarriage of justice, she is struggling to rebuild her life.

"Finally, I got a work visa in March, but the problem is I can't find a job because of my prison sentence," she said. "I just want my convictions overturned so I can live a normal life with my husband and daughter."

The couple now live apart due to financial hardship related to housing.

Zita lives with her brother, while her husband Ravi and their young daughter share accommodation with relatives.

"I've lost so much since it all began," Zita said. "I lost my daughter, my family, my father and the chance to live in New Zealand without fear."

Awaiting trial in 2019, Zita was informed that her father had died in India, but she was unable to attend the funeral because her passport was being held by the court.

Zita recalled her early days in prison with anguish.

"I didn't eat for weeks," she said. "I cried all the time."

Ravi, who came to New Zealand on a partner visa, was also facing immigration challenges.

The couple initially tried to to seek support from the Indian community but were disappointed by the results.

"We thought that because we were Indians, our people would stand by us," Ravi said. "Unfortunately, that didn't happen."

One exception was the Supreme Sikh Society, which provided a letter of support in 2023.

The two years that Zita spent behind bars were some of the hardest of Ravi's life.

"After the doctors were convinced we harmed our baby, the system took over and pointed fingers at us," he said.

"They created a narrative that there were problems between me and my wife, that we had injured the baby.

"But no one really told us how she got all those fractures - until the media brought in experts who finally explained it."

He believed they had been treated as outsiders by every government agency they encountered.

Meanwhile, their daughter had spent much of her life in foster care.

"She doesn't know anything about Indian culture," Zita said.

"We're trying our best to teach her Indian values and traditions," Ravi said.

The couple had repeatedly asked Oranga Tamariki to place their daughter with an Indian family or with their own relatives in New Zealand, but their requests were denied.

Zita and Ravi said they made a heartbreaking decision to terminate a second pregnancy in 2019, fearing Oranga Tamariki would remove the baby at birth.

Picking up the pieces

Former Race Relations Commissioner Joris de Bres has been working with the couple for several years.

"We've been on a roller-coaster ride the whole time and it's only in the last month really that we've got to the point where there's some light at the end of the tunnel, but there were still challenges to overcome," de Bres said.

"They've been hounded by the police. They had their house bugged and they've been through a court case and the mother jailed. There's something wrong here."

De Bres believed that ethnicity played a role.

"I can attribute it to a degree of institutional racism and a general racial attitude within the state. You know, I was with the Race Relations Commission for 10 years, so I'm familiar with this situation," he said.

"If you're a new arrival from another country and your skin colour is different from that of the majority, you're already starting at a disadvantage - especially when dealing with the system and even some of the people within it."

De Bres eventually contacted investigative journalists Melanie Reid and Bonnie Sumner.

Reid said the case was especially difficult.

"It's about someone accused of abusing a child, which makes it unpopular - and you're up against the medical fraternity," she said.

Over 18 months, Reid and her team obtained Baby K's medical records, including high-resolution 3D CT scans and X-rays.

They consulted four leading international specialists in genetics, neurosurgery, obstetrics and neuropathology from Canada, Norway, the Netherlands and the United States.

Each submitted a formal report.

Their collective conclusion: Baby K's injuries were likely related to complications during labour and severely low levels of vitamin D.

"One of the main takeaways from the podcast after two seasons is that you just have to keep going until you get that result," Reid said, "because there are so many points along the way where it gets too hard, and people just give up."

Sumner agreed.

"We couldn't figure out why Ravi couldn't see his daughter and there were so many injustices we could identify even before we started our investigation," Sumner said.

A year after Zita's release from prison, Oranga Tamariki began allowing Zita regular supervised access with her daughter.

In February, Newsroom unveiled that Zita's deportation had been cancelled after Associate Minister Chris Penk intervened.

In April, the Family Court in Auckland discharged any remaining orders relating to Baby K.

Restrictions on Baby K's travel were lifted, she was no longer in state care and custody was returned to her parents.

Zita and Ravi believed Oranga Tamariki had come to realise the parents might not have been at fault, a shift they attributed to media pressure and new evidence uncovered by Newsroom journalists.

"In the beginning, they told us we wouldn't get our daughter back until she was 18," Zita said. "They haven't admitted they got it wrong, but they've now granted us custody. So why did they make that decision?"

"Things slowly began to change after the podcast was released," Ravi said. "Oranga Tamariki started listening to us and tried to understand our culture, which was completely different from how they were in the beginning."

In May, the Fractured podcast announced that the Criminal Cases Review Commission (CCRC) had accepted Zita's submission for review, paving the way for a potential referral to an appeal court.

Reid said the young couple faced ongoing challenges in New Zealand.

"We got the medical experts, we got a lawyer on board and we made the application to the CCRC - but every step of the way was really tough," Reid said.

"It was tough for us, let alone what it was like for them. I think the podcast really shows what it's truly like when you're up against it and there's absolutely no hope at all."

In February, RNZ put the allegations to Starship Hospital.

Mike Shepherd, Te Whatu Ora's group director of operations for Auckland City Hospital, said the hospital could not comment on the specifics of the case "for a range of reasons."

"As always, we encourage patients and whānau to reach out to us directly if they have concerns about their or their loved one's care," he said. "Alternatively, people are welcome to contact the Health and Disability Commission for an independent review.

"We are confident of the expertise of our Starship Child Protection team and the work they do in conjunction with New Zealand Police and other relevant agencies."

For Zita and Ravi, a long road lay ahead, but the couple remained hopeful.

"I've lost so many years, and with the CCRC process, it will take even more time to get back to normality," Zita said.

"I'm not planning much because the last time I did, things didn't end well. My only dream is to live with my husband and daughter as a family."