Woman of the month is a column provided by Baptist Women New Zealand. More articles, resources and event information can be found at women.baptist.nz
Tony was born in 1941, the second child of Audrey and Siegfried Albrecht, in Adelaide, where Siegfried worked in munitions for the war effort. She faced large health problems as a child—first with rheumatic fever at age three. Apparently, she didn't like the people with white coats talking about her but not to her. She decided she wanted to be a doctor when she grew up, so that she could be a good doctor who would talk to her patients. That was perhaps indicative of the battler Tony became.
Tony tells from the same year, "At three years old, I was sent to Sunday School, although my parents had only residual belief in God. I learnt that Jesus loves little children. And Jesus loves me." This remains vivid with Tony today. "Don't underestimate pre-schoolers," she says. "I can remember that time."
A second health crisis came with polio. Tony was in hospital and then convalescing at home from age 9 to 11. "I experienced genuine impartial love from the nurses," she observes. "I felt its importance ever after." It still made for a lonely childhood and physically lagging behind the other kids. Home was often stressful, too, as her father was alcoholic and disruptive. He had come to Australia from Germany at 18 in 1928, never saw his family again, and during World War 2, was ostracised for being German. He felt conflicted and often distressed.
Tony obtained a scholarship to study medicine and pressed on with training to become a doctor. She moved to Wellington in 1969 to work as a registrar in Ophthalmology, though later, in London, she gave up that plan, took work in New Zealand as a GP doctor and married industrial chemist Norman Wansbrough.
Tony and Norman were keen to find ways to help others. They volunteered with Birthright for some years (an in-home mentoring programme for struggling families). Their recreation was their much-loved outdoors, and they tramped extensively despite the reduced lung capacity Tony's polio bequeathed to her. With an effort, she even ascended Ruapehu in her mid-fifties.
When the couple transferred to Auckland, they attended a Methodist church, then Remuera Baptist because it was nearer, and later two other Baptist churches before settling at Ponsonby Baptist in the 2000s.
Tony worked as a GP briefly before her son Keith and daughter Heather were born in the 1970s. She returned to her professional life by working in public health. Over time, Tony spent 15 years as a medical officer, mainly in child health, and later, 15 years in the control of infectious diseases. Often among new migrants when she treated TB and other infectious diseases, Tony developed huge concern and advocacy for asylum seekers. As a doctor, she documented signs of torture to substantiate their claims for asylum and often gave prescriptions for mental health issues.
Refugees became permanent residents immediately on arrival in New Zealand, but asylum seekers were different, though frequently from a similar background. They had arrived at the New Zealand border claiming asylum and seeking refugee status. They then had to wait for a legal investigation of their claim. They could stay, but often with no work permit, so no income. And at that stage, there were up to 900 in a year.
Tony used to sign up for only six-tenths of a salaried job to leave time. She became a remarkable advocate, working from rules around residential status, benefits and housing options. She often worked with the International Red Cross to assist in bringing family members to New Zealand after their own asylum claims were granted. The Auckland Asylum Seekers' Trust ran a hostel with 12 bedrooms and social support, but it was nowhere near enough. Some people could stay with their own community, while some were seriously deprived as no government department took responsibility for them.
Here is one story. A heavily pregnant Somali woman was interviewed at the airport for seven hours and then told, "You can go now." She said, "Where to?" Shrug. She was cared for by nuns one night, slept rough another, and then had pains. The hostel was full. Someone sent for Dr Tony, and she rang Norman to take her to their place until Tony rang a Somali community leader who could galvanise a family for her to stay with. Other women had miscarriages. Existence was exceedingly stressful for many. Tony has seen a father break down and cry on reading the letter of acceptance to New Zealand.
Tony set up 'Circles of Friends' for several families—people she persuaded to pledge rent and food for asylum-seeking families. The Wansbrough family supported some people themselves. Daughter Heather recalls coming home from Uni several times to find no cutlery in the drawers. It had gone to some needy family.
Men had difficulties too. When a long airport interview was over, Ben from Algeria asked, "Which way to Auckland?" and set out to walk the 22 km with a suitcase in hand. He collapsed. Someone took him to City Hospital where he spoke only French. A social worker got him into the asylum seeker hostel.
From 1998 to 2011, Tony became an advocate for government departments and an activist for better care of asylum seekers. Shouldn't they at least earn to stay alive? There needed to be a law change where men had two or more wives, and New Zealand law told them to bring one. Leave the other(s) with no support? The efforts of Tony and others made an enormous difference for political activists and religious minorities from Iran, Burma, Sri Lanka, Syria, South America, Somalia, and other places in Asia and Africa.
Tony's next advocacy push came against health boards. Health care was nearly impossible for asylum seekers, who weretreated as non-citizens and required to pay full price. Frequently Tony stood with an asylum seeker at a health desk to argue that caring for a person was legitimate. Maternity care was also refused, but at least if a woman presented in labour, she was given a safe delivery.
Tony's advocacy and arguments for asylum seekers certainly made a difference. And what has Tony learnt? "I have learnt great respect for the resilience of people. I am enriched through the culture of others. I experience the joy of being invited to sit at an African woman's fireside."
Even after she retired, Tony remained a go-to person for many non-medical needs in Auckland's asylum seeker community. She is still invited to a string of weddings among these grateful people. They respect her so much. And that is a satisfaction to Tony too. "I'm most gratified when I see people whom I have helped settle well," she says. "So it has led to a good number of Iranian weddings."
Norman and Tony always ran a hospitable home, taking in various people who needed a place to stay for months or years, be they friends of her children, prisoners on parole or out-of-town theological students. They remained in contact with a vast number of people.
Then there were the prisoners—a lifer advertised in Challenge Weekly for a picture Bible. Norman and Tony responded. He invited them to visit him in prison, and they went for some years, even inviting him to Christmas dinner.
In the 1990s, a woman in a computer class asked Norman to visit her husband in prison on drunk driving charges. At conditional release, he stayed seven months with the family, studying plumbing and practising guitar to play in church. The couple arranged for counselling while he still had the bracelet on his ankle and helped him gain work.
Then there was, still in Zimbabwe, the deserted wife of a migrant to New Zealand. Tony supported her and got her a sewing machine so that she could support herself and her children, as well as pay school fees for the children so they could get a better education.
What influenced Tony to work so hard at helping other people from other countries? Tony has her answer ready. "It was because of my own life experience. As a Christian, I met some very thoughtful lay and ministry thinkers who shaped me to love my neighbour as deeply as I love myself. It's expressed beautifully in my all-time favourite Christian song, Brother, sister, let me serve you, let me be as Christ to you. Pray that I might have the grace to let you be my servant, too. I love that. Reciprocity is a beautiful thing. We are here to help each other. Even more than leaders, we need to be people who care for one another."
Photo: Tony Wansbrough in 2020. Supplied by Beulah Wood.
