PROSPECTOR Sam Tomarchio has struck a new kind of gold in outback Western Australia by taking control of Aboriginal Centrelink payments and creating a lucrative, one-man bank.
He holds the debit cards and personal identification numbers for hundreds of welfare-dependent Aborigines across central Australia from Kalgoorlie to Alice Springs, often lending between $3000 and $5000 a day at an interest rate of 33 per cent, sometimes more.
"The thing you need to understand about these people is that, unlike you and I, they don't do anything for their money and they have no respect for it," he said when questioned by The Australian in the northern goldfields town of Laverton, 719km northeast of Perth.
There is no law to stop what Mr Tomarchio is doing but he has upset local elders.
His other business - renting chalets to miners and public servants - has become a sideline as he now spends seven hours a day dealing with the broke Aborigines who often wait in the shade under his carport for money. He knows the intimate details of their lives, including the days each month they receive money from Centrelink; this is especially important so he knows when to crank up his EFTPOS machine and get back the money he is owed - plus interest. Mr Tomarchio says he gives his clients a portion of their Centrelink payments to live on, and the amount is negotiated depending on their needs. But it seems some find it impossible to live on a fraction of their incomes and return to borrow yet more money from him before their existing loans are paid off.
Among them is Loretta Jennings, whose debt to Mr Tomarchio blew out from $990 to $1290 in just a few minutes this week when he lent her $200 - at an interest rate of 50 per cent. The Australian was in Mr Tomarchio's office on Wednesday afternoon when Ms Jennings phoned him to ask for a loan; he put her on speaker phone and she begged him for $300 to catch a bus to Kalgoorlie with her sister.
"You are already up to $990, Loretta," he said.
"I already booked ticket. Please, please," she said.
"There's $200 here for you," he replied.
When Ms Jennings arrived soon after, she was with her cousin, Dallas who borrowed $100. "You are maxing out, Dallas," he warned as he handed her a cheque. Later, at the Desert Inn, Laverton's only pub, where begging inside and outside is common, the women's uncle, Bronte, said he had also borrowed money from Mr Tomarchio after he got out of jail a few years ago.
"Sam is a good old gentleman; he's my friend," Mr Jennings said.
He was back at Mr Tomarchio's waiting-room yesterday, and had been so drunk the night before that he did not recall meeting or speaking about Mr Tomarchio.
Yvonne Green has no bank card or account but Mr Tomarchio still controls her finances because she takes her $470 Centrelink cheque to him every fortnight.
"How much do you want off your account, Yvonne?" he says, eventually giving her $200 of her own money to spend and subtracting $270 from her debt. She now owes him $380.
"He helps us," Yvonne said outside as she was leaving. "I go to him when I need a feed or things like that."
But there is rage building about Mr Tomarchio's practices.
Damian McLean, the shire president of the Ngaanyatjarraku lands to the north, where so many of Mr Tomarchio's clients live, is leading a campaign to shut him down.
So far, he has succeeded in encouraging more than 100 Aborigines to cancel their bank cards and default on their loans, which are now the subject of a Department of Consumer Protection investigation because Mr Tomarchio is not a licensed credit provider.
Laverton Police believe Mr Tomarchio's actions are immoral and many of his cheques are spent on alcohol, which leads to violence and anti-social behaviour.
Senior Sergeant Dave Hornsby said that because of Mr Tomarchio, trouble occurs any night of the week and not just on the days when Centrelink money arrives in bank accounts.
"There is a continual flow of money available within the community at all times, and this just encourages non-stop drinking," he said.
He added that he was particularly worried about the effect on children. "They are unable to access their own accounts to withdraw funds, resulting in them having no money to purchase food or items for children," he said.
Mr Tomarchio defends his practice, saying the interest he charges is comparable with Cash Converters and is necessary to cover defaulters.
He said he had about 135 cards belonging to people who had closed their accounts and defaulters, and about 180 cards that were operational.
"You have to take the cards and the PIN numbers. It's the only way, otherwise you'd never see them again," he said.
Mr Tomarchio says he is providing a service that no one else will and points to the fact that
his loans have helped stranded people get home to their lands.
He says his clients are his friends.
"I am probably the only person in the Goldfields who trusts blackfellas," he said.
"The ones here are a different breed to the ones down in Kalgoorlie . . . they're relatively half-honest."
