Northern Land Council Under Scrutiny: National Anti-Corruption Watchdog Investigates COVID-19 Grant Misuse

Last month, the offices of the Northern Land Council (NLC) in Darwin found themselves on the receiving end of a rather uninvited visitor: the National Anti-Corruption Commission (NACC) came knocking. It’s the kind of scene that might lead one to imagine a pair of trench-coated agents peering through window blinds, whispering conspiratorially about “suspicious conduct.”

It seems our dear NLC is facing quite the scrutiny, and we're talking millions—yes, millions, as in a significant chunk of COVID-19 stimulus funding. During a recent Senate estimates hearing, interim chief executive Jessie Schaecken revealed that she had, in fact, referred the matter to the NACC after conducting some, well, rather eye-opening inquiries into how those funds were managed during the global pandemic chaos. “While I appreciate the investment principles...” she began, but don't let that fool you. There’s a hint of worry underlying her words that suggests something might not be quite right.

She continued with a weighty declaration: “As is required of me as an agency head, I have made a report to the National Anti-Corruption Commission.” One could almost hear the collective gasps echoing through the Senate chamber. Over $36 million was designated for helping “Indigenous businesses recover from the impact of COVID-19.” The aim? To create jobs and uplift communities through various economic, social, and infrastructure projects. Sounds noble, right? However, whispers of mismanagement and misuse have circulated faster than you can say “stimulus funds.”

Ah, Marion Scrymgour, the former chief executive during the pandemic's peak, who has been a focal point for accusations of mismanagement—not that Ms. Schaecken's report was directed at any named individuals. “I reported the administration of the stimulus, not specific people,” she asserted, as if trying her best to distance herself from the murky waters of blame. Meanwhile, Scrymgour, now a Labor MP, has fervently denied any wrongdoing and even hinted at legal action against those who’ve questioned her integrity. It’s a minefield of finger-pointing mixed with a hefty dose of political theatrics.

When the minister for Indigenous Australians, Malarndirri McCarthy, added her voice to the mix, clarity became even murkier. She assured the Senate that Scrymgour had no part in the approval of four COVID-19 grants sought by her own family members. One could almost hear the sound of scoffing in the back row as Scrymgour’s track record came into question, but there’s nothing like a good family drama to spice up a legislative hearing.

Meanwhile, in the backdrop of all this, traditional owner Raymond Hector from the remote Nitjpurru community spoke passionately about conditions affecting his people, stung by repeated serious floods. “We've been told every year the floods are one in a hundred years,” he lamented, “yet every year, floods come.” It’s a little like the “once in a lifetime” sale at your favorite store. How many times do you actually see that sale come back around?

The hearings swirled around other pressing issues impacting Aboriginal residents nationwide, from debates over the cashless debit card to the state of NAAJA. If there’s one thing that remains clear, it's that amidst the political machinations and social challenges, the voices of Indigenous Australians are anything but being drowned out. They seek justice, recognition, and most importantly, a fair shake in a system that often feels rigged.