The room is modest – just a dresser and two metal-framed bunk beds fit with thin mattresses.
At the end of the beds sit towels, a sleeping bag and extra blankets to keep occupants warm in the draughty home.
A laundry basket sits on the dresser, filled with essentials such as coat hangers, toothpaste, tampons, deodorant, soaps and cleaning supplies.
And it’s frantically being cleaned for its next tenant, who will arrive within hours.
We’re inside a women’s shelter at an undisclosed Sydney location, where the awful reality of Australia’s domestic violence crisis has been laid bare.
Here, staff have mastered the art of a quick turnover, keenly aware that every second counts.
Women, children and girls arrive here daily, when their homes are no longer safe.
Guests often arrive with little more than the clothes on their backs, forced to leave their belongings and prized possessions behind.
Often, a partner or parent has attacked them, threatened them, controlled them or made them afraid of what might happen behind a closed door.
It is a “national emergency” plaguing Australian homes – yet in women’s shelters across the country, staff are saying no more than they’re saying yes, and rooms are few and far between.
Australia’s ‘national emergency’
This year alone, 44 women have allegedly been murdered and 19 children have died as a result of domestic violence – the youngest an eight-week-old baby.
Inside the secret home of the Women’s and Girls Emergency Centre (WAGEC), there are broken families, first-time mothers and women in their late 80s.
Here, it’s abundantly clear that violence doesn’t discriminate, affecting women in every corner of society.
“I think our frontline staff have some of the hardest jobs in the world,” WAGEC director Nicole Yade told news.com.au.
“They’re needing to decide who’s going to get that room tonight and that is a real ethical pain for anyone who does this work.
“The demand is overwhelming. Whenever there’s a vacant room, we’re trying to fill that room as quickly as possible because we know there’s so much need in the community.”
According to the Australian Bureau of Statistics, family and domestic violence-related offences rose 8 per cent last year, with more than 78 per cent of offenders identifying as male.
Two in three domestic violence assault victims are women, while three in four offenders are men.
Additionally, Aboriginal women are eight times more likely to experience domestic and family violence.
Every death leaves children without mothers and parents without daughters, grief-stricken communities, teachers supporting traumatised students and police, nurses and paramedics finding the body of yet another victim.
Women are being murdered at disproportionate rates, yet action never appears to go beyond a conversation.
“Domestic violence cuts across every age group, every ethnic or religious group. This is an issue that affects everyone in our community, no matter where you’re from or what suburb you live in,” said Ms Yade.
“It’s a national emergency. It’s costing real women their life. When I look into the faces of the little children that we serve at WAGEC – they’re just so full of love and potential.”
As we walk through the home, we pass rooms where young children sit on the floor, playing with toys or flicking through picture books.
Some are just babies, while others are acutely aware that they are not in their own home.
According to Ms Yade, it is not uncommon to see children come in with injuries.
“When the kids come in, they’re confused and trying to make sense of why this is happening,” she said.
“They want to be happy, they want to be like the other kids. They want to just get on with their learning and their friendships and the things kids should be getting on with in life.
“Violence interrupts all of that.”
Ms Yade is a victim-survivor of domestic violence herself, an experience that powered her passion for supporting other women.
“I grew up in a home where there was violence and I found myself in a relationship of similar quality when I was in my early 20s,” she said.
“I experienced violence in that relationship for the first time when I was pregnant and that continued when I had my daughter. When I finally left, my daughter was six months old. I had nowhere to go, I was homeless and I was terrified.
“I share that not because my story is special in any way, but it is the case for most women who experience domestic violence. That experience motivates me every day to make sure fewer women have that experience in our community.”
The killings seem relentless. And so full are the refuges and so scarce is the housing that Ms Yade’s team find themselves saying “no to more people than we’re saying yes to”.
“The women we’re working with are experiencing some of the darkest days of their life,” she said.
“They’re not sure what the future looks like. It’s really hard for them to imagine having to start again with only what they can carry.
“People are coming into us with all kinds of different injuries. Sometimes physical injuries, sometimes psychological injuries, sometimes people are just still in a state of shock and confusion.
“They’re really not sure what’s happening and the refuge is not what they imagined. We meet a lot of pregnant women who are experiencing violence for the first time. Those mums never imagined giving birth in a refuge. They never imagine seeing their kids take their first steps in a refuge.
“It’s not what anyone hopes for, but sometimes it’s the only choice left.”
When women enter the shelter, there has usually been a drastic escalation of violence in their situation, according to Ms Yade.
“Mostly what women describe to us is that they feel really scared. They don’t feel like they can stay. They feel scared for their children and for themselves. They just feel like they’ve got no other choice left but to leave,” she said.
“Women are worried that their children could be kidnapped or hurt as well. They’re impossible choices to make and there’s always a cost that people are trying to weigh up. It’s confusing. It’s overwhelming. And it just shouldn’t be that hard.”
Ms Yade tells me that women are often surprised by the conditions of the refuge, despite staff making it as comfortable as they can with the little resources they have.
“I often say to people, imagine living with your whole family in one room just for a weekend. I dare you try it from Friday night until Sunday night. Give me a call on Sunday and let me know how you’re going,” she said.
“You’re in small quarters, you’re experiencing some of the hardest times of your life, and you’re sharing a bathroom and kitchen with 15 other families who are all stressed out and traumatised.”
Over the last year, a surge in domestic and family violence charges coupled with stricter bail laws have seen prison and remand populations soar to record highs, resulting in overcrowding and strain on the correctional system.
Additionally, Australian taxpayers are forking out over $7.3 billion annually for adult prisons, with the cost of housing a single prisoner reaching over $400 a day.
Like many others, Ms Yade believes funding, support and reform is essential to ending what she says is a “national emergency”.
“We need programs that support men to take accountability and to make a change to their behaviour,” she said.
“I think men should be supporting men around these issues and we’ve got to try some new things. That’s what we want to see.”
It’s why Ms Wade is supportive of a bold state government proposal called Safer Men-Safer Families.
The initiative – which needs a $6 million investment from the NSW Government – aims to keep mothers and children safely in their family home, while the male perpetrator is removed under court direction to a 24/7 managed residential facility for assessment and intensive rehabilitation.
The initiative specifically targets high-risk serial offenders – men who continually cycle through the courts and prison for breaching AVOs and committing domestic violence.
“Ending domestic and family violence requires all of us to be part of the solution,” Ms Yade said.
“Our focus will always be on continuing the urgent work of supporting women and children, but we recognise that men must also be part of the change.
“Safer Men Safer Families is about trying new approaches that encourage men to take accountability, reflect on their behaviour and change. This complements our work at WAGEC and is an important step towards safer families and a safer society.”
Ms Yade’s organisation is committed to prevention work, aiming to educate the community around gender inequality and healthy relationships.
“We want a fair go for everyone, where violence isn’t seen as a way to solve problems. We want everyone to be able to respect each other and we want that to start from the earliest years,” she said.
It wasn’t until 1902 that women received the right to vote in Australia, with Indigenous women and men not given that same right for another 60 years.
The epidemic of violence in the home is consistent with a long history that sees women as second-class citizens, undeserving of a place in society.
And while men clearly do experience forms of family and domestic violence themselves, the statistics paint a picture of overwhelming violence against women.
“We want our community to stand up and not accept violence, to call it out wherever we see it,” said Ms Yade.
“If I hear someone fighting in my neighbourhood, I call the police or I knock on the door. Of course, you’ve got to make sure it’s safe for you to do so. But if we’re not feeling safe in our home next door, imagine how that woman and those children are feeling.
“This is something that’s everyone’s business. We can’t just stand by and let it happen. We’ve got to call it out. We’ve got to call our own family members out, our own friends out, and we’ve got to stand together to say ‘violence is not acceptable’.”
WAGEC relies on the donations and contributions of community members. The centre hosts an annual Walk for WAGEC on September 13, which invites Sydneysiders to Centennial Park to raise money for the continued support of the refuge.