Lejacie

A Lejacie example

One person. One life. Twelve systems.

Maya’s pathway: where she falls through the gaps between the silos, and what fixes them

Let’s be clear: this isn’t just a referral pathway. It’s a woman’s life after she asks for help.

When someone tries to get safe, their life cuts through all kinds of systems. But each time her story moves from one place to the next, bits of meaning and context slip away, sometimes the parts that matter most.

Every different system gets a slice of Maya’s story. In the gaps between them, her meaning disappears.

These should not be silos

Everything touching Maya’s life.

Maya

Times telling her story: 0

One person. One life. Every system touching it.

Maya leaves home with her two children. Click each system to see what it knows, what it does not know, and what Maya is forced to carry between them.

What Maya is carrying so far

  • Nothing yet. Pick a system.

Meet Maya

Maya’s 34.

She’s got two kids, a temporary visa, a casual job, and a chronic health problem.

Her partner controls the money. He checks her phone, threatens her about immigration, and tells the kids she’ll take them away. All of it. She’s in deep.

One night, Maya realises she can’t stay any longer.

She’s fictional, but everything here comes from real lives.

Maya’s pathway

Getting help isn’t a straight line; it’s messy: a timeline that twists, circles back, collides with itself, and splits in different directions. Every time Maya moves to a new service, something falls between the cracks: what she says, what the last worker heard, and what actually goes forward, or just quietly vanishes.

Tonight: she leaves

  • Family violence support

    Maya picks up the phone. This is the first time she’s told anyone.

  • Police and emergency response

    Things just blew up. She needs to be safe, but she’s scared. Police showing up could make everything worse.

  • Housing and homelessness

    Maya and her kids need somewhere, anywhere, to sleep.

  • Health

    Her child is terrified, Maya hasn’t slept, and she needs care. But she can’t deal with “becoming a patient” tonight.

What’s on Maya’s mindWhere will we sleep? Will he come after us? What if the police make things more dangerous?

Lost in the handover

Home to first help

Here’s what Maya tells the first worker:

“He controls my money, checks my phone, threatens my visa. He says no one will believe me.”

What actually makes it to the next service:

“Client reports family violence.”

What gets lost:

  • The ongoing pattern, not just one night
  • He’s watching her phone
  • Financial abuse
  • The immigration threats
  • Why getting police involved might be dangerous
  • The details Maya could only reveal after being given some trust and space

Where she falls throughA pattern gets reduced to an incident.

The fix

Maya tells her story once. The worker she trusts doesn’t just fill out a referral. They look at safety, get her consent, and keep Maya in the loop: who knows what, why, and what’s happening next.

Lost in the handover

First help to police and justice

The family violence worker gets it:

Maya’s weighing her options: safety now or things getting even scarier, fear for her immigration, her kids.

What police or court might get:

“Victim reluctant to make a statement.”

What gets lost:

  • Why not talking right now probably keeps her safer
  • Fear of what happens after the police leave
  • How many times she’s tried and not been believed
  • The way he acts so nice in public
  • How dangerous it is when systems move without the whole story

Where she falls throughA careful safety plan gets tagged as reluctance.

The fix

Her priorities, risks, and story go forward, with her say-so, so the next worker already knows what to expect.

This week: the crisis just keeps rolling

  • Law, courts and legal help

    Maya needs advice. Intervention orders, child arrangements, money, tenancy, work rights: the legal stuff piles up.

  • Migration and settlement

    He’s told her asking for help might get her deported. She’s scared about her visa.

  • Financial security and employment

    She has almost no cash of her own, can’t return to work safely, and needs real support with debt and bills.

  • Child protection and family services

    Someone reports that the kids saw violence. She needs help, not to be blamed for what was done to her.

What’s on Maya’s mindCan I keep my kids? Can I even stay in the country? How will I afford any of this?

Lost in the handover

Police/justice to legal help

She’s already told her story, maybe in crisis, maybe in front of the kids.

What the lawyer might get:

An incident report. A quick note about an intervention order. Sometimes, nothing useful.

What gets lost:

  • The whole abusive history, not just one event
  • What Maya really wants: safety, stability, a visa, a roof over their heads, and the kids settled
  • Needs around culture or language
  • What she’s already said, over and over
  • That some “legal options” are risky at the wrong moment

Where she falls throughA whole life gets squeezed into a legal box.

The fix

Call the lawyer first, with the full pattern, not just an incident, plus Maya’s fears, her goals with the kids, and visa risks.

Lost in the handover

Legal help to housing

Legal help knows:

She can’t go home, tenancy is a mess, and she may have no money.

Housing gets:

“Woman with two children needs emergency accommodation.”

What gets lost:

  • Is this housing safe from her partner?
  • Does she need anything for health or disability?
  • Is it near school, work, doctors, or support?
  • Could he track her through her phone? Through her kids?
  • Why “available” doesn’t always mean “safe.”

Where she falls throughA careful safety plan turns into a simple vacancy request.

The fix

Make sure housing knows about safety and accessibility before placing her anywhere.

Lost in the handover

Housing to child protection

Housing staff see a mum and two kids, shifting between crisis places, tired, struggling.

Child protection gets:

“Children have unstable accommodation.” Or “Mum missed appointments.”

What gets lost:

  • Violence is what’s behind all the movement
  • She’s working nonstop to keep her kids safe
  • Barriers: no transport, documents, or money; unsafe to get in touch
  • Why missing appointments means surviving, not disengaging
  • The children’s strengths, the relationships that keep them safe

Where she falls throughSurvival looks like non-compliance.

The fix

The next worker already knows what to expect. Maya is asked: “What’s changed? What do you need now?”

The next month: the story shatters

  • School

    Her oldest is late, withdrawn, drifting off. Teachers see attendance and behaviour, but they don’t always see why.

  • Health, mental health, alcohol and drugs

    Her own health is getting worse; stress is everywhere. She’s exhausted. Her child may need therapy.

  • Disability support

    Her mobility’s affected. Communicating, getting to appointments, keeping up with housing: it’s not separate from her safety, but services often treat it like it is.

  • Community, culture, faith

    Maya needs people she trusts, language, somewhere she belongs. But community can mean stigma or extra risks, too.

What’s on Maya’s mindHow many times do I have to say this before anyone puts it all together?

Lost in the handover

Child protection to school

What’s happening at home:

Her kids face fear, constant upheaval, having to choose sides, and a life turned upside down.

What the school sees:

Lateness. Tiredness. Changes in behaviour. Bad grades.

What gets lost:

  • Missing school is about safety, not indifference
  • Kids are scared and need normal routines
  • Parents need more flexibility, less judgement
  • Trusted relationships at school matter
  • School messages need to be safe, too

Where she falls throughA safety crisis gets filed as poor attendance.

The fix

Brief the school, so they support the kids without making Maya explain herself again and again.

Lost in the handover

School and health to mental health

Maya and her kids are trying to live through trauma, exhaustion, anxiety, grief, stress, hyper-alertness, and endless system-maze running.

What the record shows:

Anxiety. Depression. Trauma. “Complex needs.”

What gets lost:

  • The crisis producing all this
  • “Symptoms” are often her or the kids adapting to danger
  • They need real help, not just counselling
  • Retelling the story hurts
  • You can’t truly heal when you’re still running for safety

Where she falls throughTheir survival response becomes a diagnosis.

The fix

Talk to health and disability providers, so appointments, communications, and treatment fit the safety plan. Then circle back to check: did help really reach her?

Across it all: migration, disability, culture

None of these sit on the side. They’re everywhere, shaping each step.

What keeps getting lost:

  • Fear about visas, the risk of being deported
  • Language needs, safety around interpreters
  • Support for disability, communication, chronic illness
  • Racism, stigma, no trust in institutions
  • Cultural obligations, pressure, fear of exclusion
  • The difference between a service that exists and one that’s actually safe and usable

Context gets reduced to a checkbox.

The system’s view vs. Maya’s reality

What each system seesWhat Maya lives
An incidentA long, relentless pattern
A housing appA choice about safety
A visa issueA threat always hanging over her
A parenting disputeKids living with fear
Missed workFinancial abuse
School absenceA child just trying to survive
“Anxiety”What it costs to stay alive
“Client disengaged”Someone exhausted by repeating herself

The turning point

When systems actually work together.

Shared contextMaya’s consentA warm handoverGenuine follow-through

Maya tells her story once. The worker she trusts doesn’t just fill out a referral. They look at safety, get her consent, then:

  • Call the lawyer first, with the full pattern, not just an incident, plus Maya’s fears, her goals with the kids, and visa risks
  • Make sure housing knows about safety and accessibility before placing her anywhere
  • Brief the school, so they support the kids without making Maya explain herself again and again
  • Talk to health and disability providers, so appointments, communications, and treatment fit the safety plan
  • Keep Maya in the loop: who knows what, why, and what’s happening next
  • Circle back to check: did help really reach her?

That’s the connecting piece: shared context, Maya’s consent, a warm handover, genuine follow-through.

The final comparison

The fragmented pathway

  1. Maya tells her story
  2. Someone makes a half-done referral
  3. Next service gets just one piece
  4. Maya has to start over
  5. More of her story disappears

The coordinated pathway

  1. Maya tells the worker she trusts
  2. Her priorities, risks, and story go forward, with her say-so
  3. The next worker already knows what to expect
  4. Maya is asked: “What’s changed? What do you need now?”

Did Maya get twelve referrals, or did twelve systems finally organise themselves around her life?

It’s easy to send information. But unless trust, context, and safety come along for the ride, Maya’s the one holding it all together, when she shouldn’t have to.

No one’s saying we need one big super-service. But services should talk, share what matters, and stop making people do all the heavy lifting. Especially when they’re just trying to stay safe.

One person shouldn’t have to coordinate twelve separate systems just to survive.

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