The O’Brien family cry to sleep at night fearing they could lose everything to the severe drought
IN the dead centre of NSW, farmers Justin and Kate O’Brien have 64c in their bank account. They’ve been living on out-of-date porridge, instant coffee and diet shakes made with brown “fishy” tasting dam water. Their two kids have given them all their pocket money and at night, they cry themselves to sleep fearing the worst.
NSW
Don't miss out on the headlines from NSW. Followed categories will be added to My News.
IN the dead centre of NSW, farmers Justin and Kate O’Brien have 64c in their bank account.
They’ve been living on out-of-date porridge, instant coffee and diet shakes made with “fishy” tasting dam water.
The O’Briens live with their sons Harrison, 10, and James, 8, on 2600ha in Tottenham, west of Dubbo, their land and livelihoods in the midst of the driest 14-month spell since records began in 1900.
Harrison and James have given their parents all their pocket money to keep the farm running, but it hasn’t stopped withered cattle being shot when they become too weak to walk.
► NSW PLEDGES $500m FOR DROUGHT RELIEF
MORE: Charities come to rescue with supplies for farmers
MORE: Telegraph readers, Home and Away stars help stricken farmers
MORE: The grocery items set to rise in price due to crippling drought
“It looks like a big piece of your heart just shattering, just like when you drop a plate it shatters, that’s like your heart when you see something die,” Harrison said.
Harrison, who is excelling in Year 5 at nearby Tottenham Central School, is painfully aware how devastating the drought has been.
“Me and dad have a really good strong bond. If he likes something I like something. But if he gets really sad to the point where he goes to sleep crying, I do too,” Harrison said.
The O’Briens had a highly profitable year in 2016 but have been handfeeding their cattle for the last two years, during which time close to half their herd of 250 Santa Gertrudis cattle has died.
In an ordinary year the O’Briens make close to $150,000 from their cattle, but if thunderstorms don’t bring substantial rain within six weeks, their business will fold, leaving them with nothing but overdue loans and a bank overdraft.
The sheer remoteness of the farm prevents the O’Briens working for the dole.
The family doesn’t qualify for modest farming welfare or the government’s low-interest loans because their property is tangled up in a family trust, which on paper makes them appear wealthy. Even when the O’Briens have had rain, it’s been agonisingly unhelpful.
In November 60mm fell in an hour, which washed away kilometres of fencing and was followed by baking days above 45C and wild winds that scorched any scrub that might have germinated.
Between March and May Mr and Mrs O’Brien — aged 48 and 39, respectively — were managing to eat one square meal a day of chicken and rice or pasta, but last month they switched to expired cereal from the nearest supermarket and meal replacements to make sure their boys could eat well.
Feeling like he’d failed his family, Mr O’Brien was convinced suicide was his only option.
“I was on my knees, a blubbering mess, and I was going to go out into the paddock and end it,” he said.
“Animals we had earmarked to sell to pay our bills were dropping around us. It was at the point I even wished Kate and I hadn’t got married because you think ‘why would you want to bring someone into this’?”
A last-ditch call to farming charity Aussie Helpers gave Mr O’Brien enough hope to go on, after the charity’s founder Brian Egan promised to deliver groceries, bottled water and truckloads of hay and other high-protein livestock feed.
Aussie Helpers is now spending more than $100,000 a month helping farming families but can’t prop up whole farms like the O’Brien’s indefinitely.
“Justin rang me up one night, he was shattered, he was about to do away with himself and he begged for help,” Mr Egan said.
The phone call went for 20 minutes before Mr O’Brien calmed down enough
Despite the death and devastation, the O’Briens will fight for as long as possible out of a sense of duty.
“We need to be here, Australia needs us, and we want to work for them,” Mrs O’Brien said. “We’re at rock bottom but we’re worth fighting for.”
Mr O’Brien’s said the drought ravaging the state is a “diabolic crisis” for food security and Australia’s economic prospects and he couldn’t understand why state and federal governments weren’t doing more to help.
The O’Briens backed The Sunday Telegraph’s calls for the state government to reinstate freight subsidies and declare the drought a natural disaster, and for the federal government to make it easier for farming families to access modest welfare payments to buy groceries and pay household bills.
“When all the ducks line up agriculture is a magical and profitable industry, which is pivotal to our government but they don’t seem to appreciate it — they’re quite happy to sell us out,” Mrs O’Brien said.