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There was pain on the streets of Whangārei, raw and unfiltered, in the form of a march led by Tyla Simona who became a mum at 21 and the mother of a dead child just three years later. 

That march last week was the second she has led, trying to find some value in the loss of Reign Matamaru Tuhirangi Puriri, the boy so named because he would rule her life. 

Reign was killed when he fell from the front passenger seat window of an unregistered ute with no warrant driven by his uncle Aitua Kino Puriri, 36, who has since pleaded guilty to manslaughter. 

Like the flick of a switch, Simona’s life went from embracing the joy of motherhood to a desolate landscape of pain. 

“I wake up and just want to end my suffering. Why wait for the end of my time to see my boy when I could just end it tomorrow and see him? 

“I don’t want anyone to go through what I’m going through,” she said. 

In that goal, Simona is not alone. The government’s Chief Victims’ Advisor Ruth Money told the Herald she wants to make it easier for families of grieving families. 

Simona described having to tell the same story of loss to a scattered collection of agencies at a time when it was almost impossible for her to function. 

“It’s way too fragmented,” Money said. Yes, at each government department there are well-meaning people who work hard and do their best. 

Tyla Simona, 25, whose son Reign Puriri was killed when he fell from a car driven by his uncle. She is leading a march in Whangārei seeking changes to how victims are treated. 

But “no one is holistically looking at the system end-to-end to make sure we hold these people appropriately”. 

When Reign died and Tyla couldn’t work, she lost her job in retail – and the Work & Income top up that went with it. 

And because her son was dead, child support also stopped. 

The money was meaningless against the loss she suffered but she couldn’t pay her rent. 

She’s grateful for the six-week bridge that carried her to the Jobseeker allowance but “if I didn’t have a good support network around me, I could have been on the streets or in my car”. 

“We only get taken care of for a limited time, you know, and then it’s fend for yourself… build a bridge and get over it.” 

Simona says it shouldn’t be left to a deeply grieving person who can’t think straight to deal with a slew of government agencies. She doubts she could have survived without her mum or close friends. 

Simona: “The system looks after victims last, and I feel like the victim should be looked after first.” 

She has chosen to fight for change. This single mum without a child, living in tiny rural Maungatapere in Northland, is organising a movement. 

That loss she experienced? It has to mean something. 

“It’s a nightmare. I wake up not having to mother for my baby anymore. It kills me. How I live kills me without my son. He was my life, my king, my purpose, my happiness, my joy. It just takes one careless action, careless person, to make it all disappear.” 

Reign Puriri, 3, who died when he fell from a ute driven by his uncle. 

“For me as a person ... I’ve got to try and do something different for future victims, for future families. 

Tyla’s shrine to Reign 

Simona’s home is a shrine to her boy. Photographs adorn the walls, a large screen painting of her and Reign dominates the room. There are cabinets filled with his toys, his image - cheeky, laughing – looks out from every corner of the room. 

“He was king and he knew it. He made me so happy he made everyone happy. He was our happiness. Now it’s gone.” 

There are so many photographs of a wee boy laughing, a clever, empathetic boy by Simona’s description – of a child with all he might want. 

It’s been five months since Reign died – the guilty plea and a sentencing date in October is a relatively quick resolution to a homicide case. 

Tyla Simona with her son Reign, who died aged 3. 

For Simona, it’s been five months of hell. “I feel like I’m forever speechless. I’m forever overwhelmed. I’m forever mentally exhausted, mentally drained. 

“My head won’t stop, playing scenarios in my head 24/7. It’s just banging questions ... I live in a nightmare.” 

Last week, the Whangārei High Court released the summary of facts in the case of the Crown vs Aitua Puriri, 36: the police account of what happened that day, agreed to with Puriri’s guilty plea and accepted by the court. 

It was the first time Simona had a detailed account of her son’s death, the wee boy she last saw alive on February 22 when he went to stay with his dad, former partner Kere Puriri overnight. 

Simona had agreed to meet and hand over Reign at the Ruatangata G.A.S station, about 10 minutes from her place and five away from the place Reign would die. 

She got there first, Reign nestled into her arms asleep. He stayed that way when she carried him across the forecourt. 

“And I held him in my arms for the last time and thought I was going to get him back. And I got him back with his eyes still closed.” 

The police summary described how, on February 23, Aitua Puriri drove his unwarranted, unregistered Holden ute with Reign and his own daughter, 4, to drop off a lawnmower at a house close to his home. 

Having done so, they clambered back into the ute and Aitua Puriri steered down the long unsealed driveway, Reign in the front seat and his cousin in the back. 

The two kids stood up at the ute’s open windows. It was a hot midsummer afternoon – at least 25C – and the cool breeze at the open windows would have blown Reign’s long hair back, right up to the point the car navigated a pothole-strewn curve and he fell out the window. 

Aitua Puriri picked up the still form of the 3-year-old and raced home, calling out for his partner to drive as they swapped cars and headed for a St John base and then hospital, meeting Kere Puriri as he returned from chores. It was all too late. Reign was dead. 

Simona was called during that race for help. And it haunts her that she’d considered collecting Reign early that morning. “He’s having fun. Why kill a kid’s fun? I’ll go to town first. And that one day, I just did things differently and it changed everything. 

Tyla Simona holding a banner reading 'Justice for Reign', her son who died aged 3 after falling from a ute that shouldn't have been on the road. 

“But I can’t think it’s my fault because it’s not my fault … not my fault I went to town and didn’t pick him up.” 

And since then? Pain. And now purpose. 

“I want to march to make a change to the system to put victims first. I just want to try and make a change.” 

‘The system is too fragmented’ 

Ruth Money uses the same words – putting victims first – and after decades of advocating from outside the system, she’s now Chief Victims Advisor and aiming to change it from within. 

“Victims feel bewildered and can often not navigate themselves or even with an advocate because the system ... is so piecemeal.” 

The government's Chief Victims Advisor Ruth Money. Photo / Dean Purcell 

She describes victims having to connect with a multitude of different agencies – police, Inland Revenue, Work & Income, ACC, Victim Support and so on – and be proactive in seeking help, often during the worst time in their lives. 

This was Simona’s experience. Money says: “They will have to talk to all of these different government agencies and re- traumatise themselves. 

“So you constantly have 17 conversations to navigate the most horrific thing that will ever happen to you? We can and we must do better. 

“We expect the victims to do the heavy lifting. You have to be well resourced ... tenacious.” 

Money said she was heartened by the political will that exists to improve how victims are treated. “There is an authentic acknowledgement that this is needed and the will to make it happen.” 

In each government department, Money knows there to be well-meaning people doing their best. 

But “they are only responsible for a small part of the process and no one is holistically looking at the system end to end. 

“That’s where we fall down because we’re dealing with humans and humans don’t work in silos … [the victim] just cares that you’re a human helping us navigate the whole thing. The way that the system works at the moment it just doesn’t allow for that. 

Reign Puriri, 3, who died in February 2025. 

Money envisions a consolidated victims team that works together to support victims from start to finish. 

She says the Ministry of Justice is “the natural home for victims” and already has a team that could be augmented for the job. 

“This isn’t rocket science. It’s not hard.” 

Simona was raised in Maungatapere and it’s where she wanted to raise Reign. She was 21 when she fell pregnant to Kere Puriri and “couldn’t wait to be a mum”. 

Her own mum – Reign’s grandmother – Jennifer Parker remembers her daughter calling with the news of her pregnancy: “She rang me at work and she was petrified how I would be.” 

Joy was the reaction and that’s all there was. It was a difficult birth but still “one of the happiest moments of my life” Simona said. 

Five days in, her son still had no name. She sat breastfeeding him, spring rain falling on the roof, and she thought of that baby and how he would rule her life. 

“That’s how his name came about. He is and was our king because he reigns over us all.” 

“His name is Reign Matamaru. Matamaru is ‘humble face’ in Cook Island. So King Reign, Reign Matamaru - King of humble faces.” 

At last week’s march, signs said: “Change the system.” There are many aspects Simona would change. She wants her loss to mean something. 

Tyla Simon, 25, leading a march through central Whangārei. Photo / David Fisher 

There were roadblocks to understanding what happened the day Reign died. She has only praise for police, but details that could have helped her heal were kept close to the investigation. 

The summary of facts – the court-accepted record of the case – is a critical element in which the victim isn’t involved. She doesn’t fully accept the set of events and hasn’t had access to evidence that could help convince her. 

She found it difficult being just a passive observer in a court case dealing with her own son’s death: watching the process play out until she finally got to read out her victim impact statement. 

Entitlements for victims can seem unfair. Parker, for example, will get travel to court covered because she is employed. Simona, who is on a benefit, will get nothing even though money is tighter. 

On all these matters, and more, Ruth Money has proposals for change. 

Reign was one of nine children so far this year to die in Northland in a homicide. 

“I find that absolutely outrageous. I want to make as much noise as possible. I want a reaction from this government” said Simona. 

“I had my son taken away from me and I want to march and make a difference.” 

David Fisher is based in Northland and has worked as a journalist for more than 30 years, winning multiple journalism awards including being twice named Reporter of the Year and being selected as one of a small number of Wolfson Press Fellows to Wolfson College, Cambridge. He first joined the Herald in 2004.