Residents must sign in and out at a security gate, and vehicles and bags are routinely searched. Welcome to the Batchelor Institute, 100km south of Darwin - formerly an idyllic education setting on the edge of Litchfield National Park, now a 10-foot ringlock fence encircling hundreds of evacuees from remote Indigenous communities forced to flee the most vicious wet season on record.
In March, the Daly River hit a record peak of 23.93 metres, pushing families from Palumpa and Nauiyu to evacuate for the second time in four weeks. The NT government moved them from a Darwin evacuation shelter to student accommodation and temporary dongas at Batchelor, promising a “more stable, comfortable and culturally appropriate environment.” Instead, residents describe detention.
“What they’re doing to us, it’s like a prison camp,” said Nauiyu traditional owner James Parry. Guards shine torches into his window at night, checking if people are sleeping. “Women’s bags are checked by men when they come back from the shops. Every car that comes in and comes out, they stop and search … that’s not a home.” Parry says it’s because they are Aboriginal people: “I just want my freedom.”
Several Aboriginal organisations - including the Northern Land Council (NLC), Danila Dilba Health Service, and the Northern Australian Aboriginal Justice Agency (NAAJA) - have been excluded from the emergency response and blocked from entering evacuation centres without permission. Federal minister for Indigenous Australians Malarndirri McCarthy was also prevented from entering Batchelor shortly after residents relocated; her office didn’t directly address the restriction but confirmed she visited affected communities, calling it “a deeply distressing time for families impacted … with a long road ahead to recovery.”
NLC chair Matthew Ryan was refused entry when trying to meet traditional owners and told future access would require 24 hours’ notice and ministerial approval. He wrote to the chief minister asking why; no response. Security acted like “pork chops,” he said, treating his people with “total disregard.” Ryan also flagged that flood payments for evacuees had been quarantined.
NT government chief executive Brent Warren said emergency payments were restricted “so families can replenish fridge and pantry items that would have spoiled while they were away from home.” Meanwhile, residents are still being charged rent despite a March promise to freeze payments. Aboriginal Housing NT CEO Leeanne Caton said evacuees are having payments deducted for rent arrears without consent: “Rent payments are continuing to be deducted from residents without individual consent or choice.”
On Sunday, nearly half the residents were suddenly returned to Palumpa despite a boil water alert and 19 of the community’s 50 houses remaining uninhabitable. There’s no power, no store to buy food, and damaged road access. Residents were told if they didn’t agree to leave by Friday, they’d have to make the 300km journey on their own. Several said they’re worried about returning but have felt like they’ve been living in detention for seven weeks.
“We are just monkeys in a cage to them,” said Barak Sambono. “This evacuation … It’s the biggest nightmare I ever had.”
The local clinic is heavily damaged; a temporary “health hub” in a residential building provides basic care, with serious cases flown to Darwin. School runs three hours a day in a tin house and outdoor gazebos, despite temperatures exceeding 35°C. Electricity relies on prepaid power cards - meaning families need a device, internet, and funds to keep power on, even for boiling water. The NT government says power won’t be disconnected, but residents will go into debt, recovered later.
Asked about restrictions, an NT government spokesperson said evacuation centres are “controlled environments designed to protect residents’ safety, privacy and wellbeing.” They added that relevant service providers have access and the return is being “carefully staged.” The Palumpa and Nauiyu communities have been evacuated due to floods four times in the past decade. Non-Aboriginal Australians displaced by a flood, NAAJA CEO Ben Grimes noted, “would not be treated in the same way.”