As it was engulfed in turmoil behind the scenes amid staff personal grievances and breaches of its government-funded contracts, Dunedin health organisation Te Kāika was also fighting to hide the identity of one of its senior health workers who was before the courts on serious charges. Rob Kidd reports.
In March 2024, Te Kāika entered crisis mode after manager of social practice 40-year-old Rema Smith was hauled before the court on serious domestic-violence charges.
The charges stemmed from a relationship he had started with a Te Kāika co-worker 15 years his junior.
The court heard about his obsessive “stalking-type behaviour” and how he had turned up at the victim’s home with two patched gang members who were driving his work vehicle.
Te Kāika chief executive Matt Matahaere fought to keep Smith’s name suppressed – until a judge asked him to front up in court.
Mr Matahaere later gave Smith a glowing reference and told a subsequent employer the senior manager had been ‘‘groomed’’ to be a future Te Kāika chief executive.
Rose*, who has since been diagnosed with PTSD, was disgusted Smith’s reputation appeared unscathed since the domestic-violence ordeal he inflicted upon her.
She saw it as an extension of the manipulation she endured at his hands.
“I feel like my story won’t be believed because of Rema’s reputation as a social worker and his somehow continued glowing references from his employers.
“My ongoing trauma has been compounded by organisations who continued to employ and support Rema throughout this case despite knowing what he’d done to me,” Rose said.
When she first met Smith, she recalled being impressed with his openness and the way he could get on with anyone.
‘‘He seemed very charismatic, super switched on, smart, generous, charitable, take the shirt off his back for anyone,’’ she said.
But there was another side of him that soon emerged.
Rose recalled him losing his temper over something innocuous while they were socialising one night.
‘‘He followed me up the street, screaming. He just was losing it. It was not normal,’’ she said.
‘‘He was punching concrete walls with both hands.’’
Smith apologised, they reconciled, but then towards the end of 2023, in a chance encounter Rose bumped into his long-term partner.
He had never said he was in a relationship with someone else.
An Oranga Tamariki (OT) staff member is believed to have earlier flagged issues regarding Smith’s behaviour, which resulted in an incident at a child’s birthday party.
A source who attended the event described Smith ‘‘full on going at [the other man]’’ as parents looked on.
She said the OT worker and his family were ‘‘smuggled out’’ when Smith refused to leave.
In February 2024, the man’s obsession ramped up.
Rose had agreed to support him in seeking professional help but any romantic connection was out of the question.
‘‘He was just bombing my phone,’’ she said.
‘‘He was really upset and angry by that.’’
Smith had claimed he would make the long drive to her family home to see her.
The Otago Daily Times has viewed a cellphone log from the day showing more than 70 calls from him to Rose and a barrage of messages, warning he was on his way as she pleaded with him not to.
When he arrived, he screamed at her and made explicit threats of self-harm (having earlier sent her a copy of his will) during a protracted standoff, she said.
Police became involved but no charges were laid at that stage.
In court documents filed later, Mr Matahaere said Smith was placed on leave at the time and given access to a psychologist and counsellor.
Smith’s superiors had gone out on a limb to support him in the past, but to every question asked by the ODT they appeared to distance themselves from any connection.
‘‘Mr Smith has not been employed by Te Kāika for at least 18 months, and we have no interaction with him so will not be commenting further,’’ Ms Matahaere-Atariki said.
WHEN Rose came back to Dunedin to study, in March 2024, Smith redoubled his efforts to win her over.
Just days after the move, he turned up at her home unannounced, explaining he had driven every road in the suburb until he found her car.
‘‘Terrified’’, Rose asked Smith to leave her alone.
It made no difference.
Two days later, the senior social worker was back at the address.
He stood at the end of the woman’s driveway with an associate and told her he had four carloads of people nearby ready to ‘‘roll the house’’.
When they eventually left, Rose and a female flatmate fled, and she called police fearing Smith would follow through on his threat.
Over the course of the evening he called her nearly 100 times, messaged constantly, begging to see her, professing his love.
‘‘Please my baby,’’ Smith repeated.
His messages later took on a more menacing tone.
‘‘We almost there … It’s over for them,’’ he wrote.
‘‘F… you then.’’
The flatmates’ drastic actions were vindicated when, just several hours after the initial visit, he turned up with several men and began banging on the doors and windows of the home.
Smith entered the property through a kitchen window and took Rose’s car keys from her bedroom.
A message he sent her at 3.51am – one of 35 consecutive texts that went unanswered — showed a photo of her car’s dashboard, the speedometer touching 120kmh.
Rose went back to the flat the following morning to pack up the rest of her possessions and was preparing to leave in an Uber when he turned up in her car.
‘‘The defendant was accompanied by two patched gang members who were driving the defendant’s work vehicle following behind him,’’ court documents said.
As Rose went to use her phone to call for help, Smith ‘‘launched himself’’ at her, wrapping himself around her arms and torso.
It was only when she got into her vehicle that she managed to alert a friend to her situation, who in turn called the police.
But before officers arrived, Smith sat beside her slamming his head into the dashboard, hitting himself in the face with a bottle, screaming at her to drive, attempting to get into the driver’s seat.
Police only found him 48 hours later in South Dunedin.
When Smith saw them arrive, he climbed on to the roof of Southern Rugby Club – a team he previously played for.
Officers found his phone in the guttering of the building but he refused to provide its PIN.
WHEN Smith appeared in court, he was represented by top criminal barrister Philip Shamy.
Two months later, the lawyer would be named a King’s Counsel, an honorary title reserved for only the upper echelon of lawyers.
Several sources have told the ODT Smith’s legal fees were initially paid by Te Kāika on the basis he would repay the debt.
When asked whether this was ethical considering Te Kāika held contracts that involved supporting the victims of domestic violence and the fact the victim was a former staff member, there was the same refusal to comment.
Regardless, Te Kāika was keen to avoid public association with Smith.
On April 4, Mr Shamy filed submissions with the court seeking suppression of the defendant’s name on the basis that publication would cause ‘‘undue hardship’’ to Te Kāika.
In an affidavit sworn four days earlier, Mr Matahaere said any adverse publicity for the charity would be ‘‘difficult to quantify’’.
‘‘Te Kāika is a values-based and driven organisation that is focused on strengthening whanau and contributing to the wellbeing of our communities,’’ he wrote.
‘‘The social licence we must operate with in our communities has been severely compromised through the behaviour and unwellness of a senior team member. The extreme hardship experienced to a one-in-one-hundred-year opportunity for Ngai Tahu to work in partnership with other government agencies to support our communities is not to be underestimated.’’
But Judge David Robinson, in documents released to the ODT, highlighted the ‘‘inconsistent approach’’ taken by Te Kāika.
Dr Asheer Singh, a Te Kāika GP and team doctor for the Highlanders, was appearing in court that same day on tax-evasion charges.
‘‘It seems surprising that someone with a senior role such as a medical practitioner has not sought name suppression for reasons of protecting the reputation of the employer, while a social worker is advancing that application,’’ he said.
So why the inconsistent approach? Why was Te Kāika so keen to have Smith’s name kept under wraps and not a high-profile GP?
He requested Mr Matahaere’s presence in court to be questioned about the contents of his affidavit.
But just days later Smith’s application for name suppression was discontinued and the proposed hearing abandoned.
In August, Singh had his application for discharge without conviction rejected and was sentenced to five months’ home detention and 200 hours’ community work.
The Dunedin District Court heard the doctor had unlawfully evaded nearly $140,000 in taxes, which he accepted was down to ‘‘self-entitlement and greed’’.
After a few weeks behind bars, Smith got bail to the Hawke’s Bay – escorted there by another Te Kāika staff member – and was eventually sentenced in the Hastings District Court in March on charges of burglary, unlawfully taking a vehicle, assault in a family relationship and breaching the Search and Surveillance Act.
His new lawyer Eric Forster characterised the crimes as ‘‘someone acting immaturely’’ and stressed the break-in was not a typical burglary.
Judge Bridget Mackintosh said it was worse.
‘‘There was stalking-type behaviour and perseverance,’’ she said.
The judge was also critical of how long it had taken Smith to take responsibility for his crimes.
‘‘The evidence was available from the phone and CCTV. Is it really something that should’ve taken a year to get to sentencing?’’ she said.
Mr Forster had little to offer but suggested there was little long-term harm inflicted upon the victim.
Rose disagreed.
‘‘It’s not hard to recall the events that got Rema arrested because I’ve watched it over on the security cameras, I’ve read over the threatening text messages in my phone, and it haunts my memory, my dreams and my behaviour as I go about normal everyday activities,’’ she said.
‘‘What’s most disturbing is that Rema knew the impact his actions would have on all of us when he abused me because of his professional background. The harm feels cruel and deliberate.’’
Judge Mackintosh acknowledged the extent of the ordeal and sentenced Smith to 12 months’ supervision and 100 hours’ community work, including among his conditions a ban from entering Dunedin while serving the sentence, monitored by an ankle bracelet.
She pointed to the extensive support Smith had.
The judge said his manager at Te Kāika spoke highly of him ‘‘but it seems perhaps working with others to overcome their demons has not assisted you in addressing what appear to be your own’’.
Despite the serious charges, while on bail, Smith secured a job at Dove Hawke’s Bay – an organisation which specialises in supporting whanau affected by family violence – and facilitated a men’s non-violence programme.
Chief executive Stewart Eadie said he had received an overwhelmingly glowing reference from Te Kāika.
Mr Matahaere had said Smith was being ‘‘groomed’’ for the role of chief executive before the offending, Mr Eadie told the ODT.
He was under the impression the validity of the charges would be challenged and once Smith was convicted, he was immediately placed on leave.
Mr Eadie said he felt ‘‘misled’’ by Te Kāika.
‘‘If I had all the facts, I wouldn’t have taken him on as an employee,’’ he said.
Smith was no longer employed by Dove, Mr Eadie confirmed.
SMITH remains suspended by the Social Workers Registration Board but the professional body was more lenient last time he was in trouble.
In March 2021, he obtained a motorcycle licence after sitting his test on the West Coast.
Only it did not happen.
The NZTA-approved tester who filled in the paperwork, 70-year-old Petre Jozef Kalinowski, fraudulently dished out nearly 300 licences to those willing to pay, police discovered.
Business at his Westport outpost was booming, thanks mostly to word of the scam spreading among the criminal fraternity.
Court documents noted the King Cobras got wind of the rort in February 2021 and Smith’s involvement came only weeks later.
After Kalinowski was prosecuted, police were faced with deciding which of his clients to bring before the court.
In Dunedin there were just two: Mangu Kaha Black Power boss Albert Epere and the senior member of Te Kāika’s staff.
At his sentencing in April 2023, Smith sought a discharge without conviction citing the possible impact on his ability to practise as a social worker.
But Judge Michael Turner rejected that, noting there remained no clear reason why Smith had been involved in the licence racket, he stressed.
In the aftermath of the court case, the Social Workers Registration Board assessed Smith’s fit-and-proper-person status and opted not to suspend him.
The ODT has been provided with a string of references written on the practitioner’s behalf.
Months after being made chief executive, Mr Matahaere wrote that he had known Smith for 20 years and raved about his ‘‘dedication and hard work’’.
‘‘When I moved to Te Kāika, I knew we needed some grunt in our social services and approached Rema to come and fill this void,’’ the reference said.
‘‘I knew Rema could hold this space for us and keep us safe as an organisation.’’
Mr Matahaere stressed how important Smith was to Te Kāika’s operation.
‘‘Rema sits in my executive leadership team and ensures that we are meeting our legislative requirements,’’ he said.
‘‘He is my go-to whenever there is a crisis in the organisation, I find his calm demeanour critical when we need to make hard decisions.’’
Others, including Ms Matahaere-Atariki, explicitly distanced Smith from any involvement in organised crime.
‘‘Rema does have whanau who are in a relationship with gangs,’’ she wrote.
‘‘He has never been a gang member himself.’’
Ex-Te Kāika staff members confirmed that gang members attended Te Kāika work events such as Christmas parties, and that they were uncomfortable with that.
A source confirmed to the ODT that concerns were also raised by patrons or security at a Highlanders rugby game after they recognised gang members with a Te Kāika representative in the hospitality area.
As with other questions, Ms Matahaere-Atariki refused to comment on ‘‘gossip, rumours and anonymous sources’’.
Smith was contacted by the ODT but did not respond to requests for comment.
* Name changed to protect identity