Once a Kimberley stockman, Kenneth Paul Green now lives on a disability pension — the product of a chronic back injury — in a home on Kununurra's fringe.
It is a place where the boab trees shine silver in the evening and the red cliffs glow.
On his porch, he recalls when the cashless debit card was introduced to his remote West Australian town in 2016.
He felt like he never had a say.
"Why the hell do they do everything behind our back instead of talking the proper way to us," Mr Green asked.
Now, he is furious the government is scrapping it, six years later, again without his choice.
"They put us on without permission, and now they're gonna take us off, again without permission from us. How does that work?" he said.
As Labor moves to axe the cashless card, there is apprehension in northern Australia about life after the controversial form of compulsory income management.
The scheme quarantines 80 per cent of people's welfare pay onto the card which can't be used for alcohol, gambling or cash withdrawals.
More than 17,000 people in Western Australia, Queensland, South Australia and the Northern Territory use the card – and once it's gone, Labor says income management will be made voluntary in all of those sites, except the NT and parts of Far North Queensland.
In those areas, a "new enhanced" income management card will be rolled out next year.
Mixed feelings on card's demise
In Kununurra, views of those on the cashless debit card are nuanced and varied.
Some are glad to see it go, while others fear its removal could cause mayhem in an area that has long grappled with domestic violence and social dysfunction.
For Mr Green, he said he eventually appreciated the card, as it helped make sure he always had rent money, and enough funds to see his kids through school.
"To me it was a lifesaver ... it controls my spending," he said.
Labor went to the recent election pledging the card's end, citing reports it stigmatised people and failed in its bid to break the welfare cycle and reduce social woes.
Legislation is before the Senate which, if it passes with amendments this week, will mean people can transition off the card from October.
Miriwoong woman Majella Roberts said the card helped her save money for her six children.
"On pay day you save it for a couple of days ... without people asking for it," she said.
"Use it in the shops, clothing shops, even for cabs as well."
Now, however, she is happy it is being scrapped, because she is sick of struggling to find cash when she needs it.
"Some shops, like the garage, they don't use those cards. You have to have cash," she said.
About 30 kilometres away in Cockatoo Springs community, elder Ben Ward said the card should go, and agreed with the move towards a voluntary system.
"It's not giving us our freedom and self-determination," the senior Miriwoong man said.
"If we don't have the choice then why the hell are we here?"
Under Labor's new voluntary system, the government said those who choose to be on income management will have 50 per cent of their income quarantined, as opposed to 80.
Fears of a 'policy vacuum'
Ian Trust is one of the key Indigenous advocates for the card in the East Kimberley.
The executive chair of the not-for-profit Wunan Foundation said he was concerned removing the income management scheme could create a "policy vacuum".
He also fears the extra cash on the streets would lead to a spike in alcohol-related harm.
"I think it could be chaos," Mr Trust said.
"I mean, how much consultation has there been with the state? Has there been an increase in the police force? Has there been an increase in St John WA ambulance services?"
The Albanese Government has said that it would be committing more than $65 million in "additional alcohol and other drugs treatment services and support" and "community-led" initiatives to get people off welfare in sites where the card is ending.
Mr Trust, a Gija man, said Labor needed to address the factors behind generational welfare dependency, rather than simply adding or removing systems like the card.
"I think the card wasn't perfect ... I don't think there is anything that is perfect," Mr Trust said.
"[But] I think it had enough positive attributes that we could have built on it, and taken it to the next stage."
He said the card's removal was proof that short-term fixes were not the answer, and longer-term policy changes needed to be explored.
"Neglected children, domestic violence, youth suicides ... it's been a mounting crisis for a long time, and we're going to have to take this seriously," he said.
Department of Social Services statistics show the total number of people on welfare in remote and very remote Australia has risen by more than 15,000 people since 2012, from around 98,500 to 114,229 in 2022.
In the Kimberley, authorities have continued to grapple with high crime rates and ongoing social disadvantage since the card was implemented.
The Department of Social Services said it would also provide "additional social supports as required in response to the need of the individual CDC communities".
More changes to come
Labor flagged yesterday that it "remains committed to making income management voluntary over the long-term" for the thousands who will remain on the scheme after the end of the cashless card.
Of those, more than 20,000 people are in the Northern Territory, on the older NT Intervention-era income management scheme called the Basics Card.
Now, that card will be superseded by newer card technology, which Labor said would enable users to shop online and "have access to more merchants" than currently available, but still quarantine half of their welfare money.
NT man Malati Yunupingu — a resident of Gunyangara community in East Arnhem Land — went on the basics card after cancer made him too sick to work.
The Gumatj clan elder said the card helped him save money for food, and fears if it was ever removed completely, vulnerable children in his community would go hungry.
"It would make Yolngu people starve," Mr Yunupingu said.
"We are living in a different world now. Mother and father are playing cards, on drugs, instead of thinking about the kids. That's the saddest part of it."
Valerie Dhamarrandji, a part-time teacher's assistant, said if the card became voluntary she would continue to use it — but also agreed that people should be given the right to choose.
"It's not fair. It's like some form of racism," she said.
"We Australians should be equal in everything."
The cashless card legislation is due to return to parliament tomorrow.
