Chris Minns MP - “Please Help Me”: My Experience with the Kogarah Electorate Office - November 2021

There comes a point where asking for help becomes a matter of survival.

By November 2021, I had already exhausted every formal pathway available to me. The regulator wasn’t regulating. The insurer wasn’t complying. My employer wasn’t meeting its obligations. And the system that was supposed to protect me had instead left me exposed.

So I did what any person is told to do in a functioning democracy.

I turned to my local elected representative.

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24 November 2021 — The First Plea

On the evening of 24 November 2021, I wrote to the Kogarah electorate office.

It was not a casual email.

It was a plea.

“Please help me before it’s too late… I’m about to lose everything because no one lifted a finger to do their job ethically.”  

I explained clearly what I needed:

For SIRA to enforce compliance with a legally agreed Injury Management Plan.

The plan was a legally binding agreement between myself, my treating doctors, and the insurer — and it was being ignored.

My return to work, my income, my health, and my dignity all depended on its implementation.

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25 November 2021 — Escalation and Urgency

By the next day, 25 November 2021, the situation had become critical.

I followed up again — more direct, more urgent, more stripped back:

“Right now, I need SIRA to enforce compliance… I need my return to work asap. It’s urgent now.”  

I wasn’t asking for policy reform.

I was asking for the law to be enforced.

That same day, I made it clear I was preparing to take matters into my own hands — to physically attend SIRA if necessary, because I could not wait any longer for a system that was failing me.

“I can’t take this abuse anymore. Not for another day… I’m alone, frightened and have no support.”  

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Inside the Electorate Office — When Something Didn’t Feel Right

Around this time, I attended the Kogarah electorate office in person.

What stayed with me wasn’t just the lack of outcome.

It was the feeling.

The moment I walked in, something didn’t sit right.

The initial response to my earlier correspondence — dated 15 October 2021 — had been polite, respectful, and gave the impression that my concerns would be taken seriously.

But in person, it felt different.

Before I even introduced myself, I was recognised.

She knew my name.

I had never met her before.

I hadn’t said who I was.

And yet — she knew.

There may be explanations for that. Perhaps someone had seen me previously when I dropped off a box of documents during COVID restrictions — evidence of what had been happening with SIRA and SafeWork NSW — and quietly alerted her.

But I didn’t hear that.

What I experienced was something else:

A moment that made me pause.

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Behind the Partition

The office itself felt closed.

Partitioned.

Hidden.

There were moments where I was left waiting — long enough for it to feel uncomfortable.

Too long.

The kind of silence where you start to wonder:

What’s happening behind there?

What’s being said about my case?

Where do I stand in all of this?

It felt like time was being taken not to assist — but to assess.

To position.

To manage.

And when you’re already vulnerable, those moments are amplified.

You don’t just notice them.

You feel them.

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The Gut Feeling

There’s a point where observation becomes instinct.

And my instinct was clear:

This was not a space where my situation was being understood.

It was a space where it was being handled.

Quietly.

Cautiously.

And without me.

There was no clarity.

No outcome.

Just the sense that everything was still “in progress” — indefinitely.

Behind glass, behind process, behind silence — systems can feel present, yet remain completely out of reach.

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26 November 2021 — Breaking Point

By the morning of 26 November 2021, I had reached breaking point.

“I’m paralysed with fear and trauma… Please save me. It’s urgent now.”  

I was trying to prepare myself to physically attend SIRA — not because that’s how the system is supposed to work, but because every formal pathway had failed.

I repeated something in that email that captures exactly what this experience had become:

“When my life’s in danger I do what any person does instinctively… I kick and scream… to attract attention for someone to save me.”  

That is what regulatory failure looks like in real life.

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What I Was Actually Asking For

It’s important to be clear about this.

I was not asking for anything extraordinary.

I was asking for:

• Enforcement of a legally binding Injury Management Plan

• Payment of statutory entitlements already owed

• A safe and supported return to work

• Basic compliance with workers compensation law

This was not a dispute about eligibility.

This was a failure of enforcement.

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At the Same Time — A Different Public Narrative

While I was navigating this — writing urgent emails, attending the electorate office, and trying to hold myself together — there was a different narrative playing out publicly.

Visibility.

Campaigning.

Messaging about fairness and reform.

The contrast was stark.

On one side:

• A constituent unable to access legally owed entitlements

• A system failing at every level

• A person reaching crisis point

On the other:

• Public assurances

• Political visibility

• Promises about supporting workers

Those two realities did not align.

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What This Experience Raises

This raises a fundamental question:

What happens when a worker cannot access their statutory entitlements — within the electorate of the government responsible for the system?

Because if:

• Regulators do not enforce

• Systems deflect responsibility

• Legal obligations are ignored

• And elected offices do not intervene

Then the burden shifts entirely onto the individual.

To chase.

To escalate.

To survive.

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The Reality I Was Left With

Despite everything:

• The emails

• The visit

• The evidence

• The urgency

There was no meaningful intervention.

No resolution.

No enforcement.

No advocacy. 

No support. 

No care.

Just silence — and a system that continued not to function.

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Where Accountability Sits — The Role of the Minns Government

This experience sits within a system that is designed, overseen, and ultimately accountable to the Government of New South Wales — now led by Chris Minns.

It is important to be clear about what that means.

The workers compensation framework in New South Wales is not informal.

It is a statutory scheme.

Its effectiveness depends on:

• Regulators enforcing compliance

• Agencies acting within their legal mandates

• Systems responding when failures are raised

• And elected representatives ensuring those systems function as intended

When those elements break down — as they did in my experience — the issue is no longer operational.

It becomes one of governance and accountability.

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A Question of Oversight — Not Politics

This is about responsibility.

When a constituent:

• Raises sustained concerns about regulatory non-enforcement

• Provides evidence of harm linked to that non-enforcement

• Seeks assistance through appropriate democratic channels

…and no effective intervention occurs —

it raises legitimate questions about oversight.

Not just at an agency level,

but at a government level.

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The Gap Between Commitment and Experience

Public messaging often emphasises:

• Support for workers

• Fairness in workplace systems

• Strengthening protections

Those commitments must be measured against lived reality.

When a worker cannot access:

• Their statutory entitlements

• A legally binding injury management process

• Timely regulatory enforcement

then there is a gap between what is said, and what is experienced.

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Why This Matters

This goes to the integrity of the system itself.

If enforcement depends on:

• persistence beyond reasonable limits

• escalation across multiple agencies

• or personal crisis to trigger attention

then the system is not operating as intended.

When that happens, accountability cannot stop at the frontline.

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A Simple Standard

The standard should not be complicated:

If a statutory law exists — it should be enforced.

If a plan is binding — it should be implemented.

If harm is identified — it should be addressed.

When that does not occur, those responsible for oversight must be willing to ask why.

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A Final Reflection

I wrote those emails because I believed that someone, somewhere in a position of authority, would step in and ensure that the law was upheld.

Without that belief, there is no trust in the system at all.

And when injured workers lose trust in the system designed to protect them, the consequences are not administrative.

They are human.

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Call to Action

I now call on Chris Minns and Jihad Dib to ensure that the workers compensation system in New South Wales operates as the law requires — not as individuals experience it when it fails. 

This includes directing that regulators actively enforce compliance with injury management obligations, that clear accountability pathways exist when enforcement does not occur, and that workers are not left to navigate systemic failure alone, especially given their vulnerability at this time. 

This is not a request for discretion; it is a request for lawful administration. 

When a statutory scheme does not function in practice, the responsibility to correct it sits at the highest level of government.

Source: contemporaneous record of event - Document 225.