Why we must not turn away from Hannah’s horror

It’s been traumatic to relive the deaths of Hannah Clarke and her children but if her parents understand the importance, we must too, writes Kate Kyriacou.

Every day, in the Brisbane Coroners Court, photographs of Hannah Clarke and her children Aaliyah, Laianah and Trey were displayed on the television screens of Court 4.

Hannah at the beach, laughing. Aaliyah, 6, her protective arms around her younger siblings. Cuddly Laianah, clinging to her mother like a koala. Trey, who hadn’t quite worked out the right way to smile.

They were there for you to look at when, for days on end, the inquest into their murders heard the horrific details of the treatment they suffered at the hands of a vile, evil, deeply insecure, cowardly man.

Hannah Clarke with Trey, Laianah and Aaliyah.

The inquest into the murders of Hannah and her children has been a deeply uncomfortable – and yet incredibly important – process.

It was uncomfortable watching the once bubbly and vivacious Hannah, her voice nearing hysteria, at a routine traffic stop when police told Rowan Baxter he was driving an unregistered car.

Baxter, captured by a police camera, blamed her for not paying the bill (it had been he who hadn’t paid the bill).

And you could hear it in her voice, in her high-pitched placation, that she knew she would be in trouble when there were no longer police standing in front of them.

It was distressing watching footage of Hannah, crying, her hands against her head, as she told police her husband had snatched Laianah, 4, tossed her unrestrained into the front of his car and driven away.

It was footage of a mother who did not know where her little girl was. She did not know if she was safe.

As uncomfortable as it was for those listening or reading about it in this newspaper, we cannot imagine how traumatic it was for Hannah’s parents.

Lloyd and Sue Clarke arriving at the inquest. Picture: Liam Kidston.

So if Sue and Lloyd understood the importance of the details of their daughter’s suffering, of their grandkids’ suffering, being made public, we must understand it too.

How many women have recognised some of Hannah’s horror in their own lives? How many saw her fear and attempts to placate her angry, controlling husband and recognised it as their own? How many saw it and thought about leaving?

For two years, Lloyd and Sue Clarke have put their pain aside to tell Hannah, Aaliyah, Laianah and Trey’s story. If they are strong enough to tell it, we must be willing to listen.