Hollie Hughes (NSW, Liberal Party) Share this | Hansard source

I rise today to say a few things that I really don't want to say. I don't want to have to remember my friend or my neighbour now, not at this time, and whilst it's ridiculous to say 'not ever', I sincerely had hoped that we would have many more years together in this place. It's perplexed some outside of this place as to why so many people across the aisle have been so upset to lose KK at this time. She was and forever will be 'KK', as our darling mutual friend Milton Dick used to refer to our little corridor as the 'HH, KK space', one he joked about joining—in fact, even joining the Senate at one stage—just so he could hang out with us a little bit more.

But our Kimba was a warrior. She fought hard, she worked hard and she loved hard. She loved her husband, Andrew—maybe almost as much as Nancy-Jane!—and she loved her staff. I've only ever had the pleasure of knowing Maree and Jordan. But, Jordan, who's here today, you were quite the team. She loved the Labor Party, something that I understood less, but she would fight for what she believed were true Labor values, something that I fear the Australian public may see less and less of these days. But I do think, most of all, she loved Australia. She was a true patriot. She truly understood the importance of sovereignty, of protecting our nation and our citizens, that we had the right to encourage and support free trade on fair terms around the world. She was not naive to the threats of terrorism and socialism and communism, and the threats that those ideologies were to our own democracy. She wasn't frightened to call out human rights abuses. She worked hard to ensure that those rights were recognised around the world—the Uighurs, the plight of Tibet and, of course, China.

Her work, and ultimate recognition with the awarding of the Magnitsky award, was globally known, and, unfortunately, perhaps better appreciated by those outside of our own country. There are very few in this place who would be recognised by the Dalai Lama on their passing, even those with a foreign affairs attachment of their portfolio within her party. She really was seen as a wonderful, proud Australian, who truly understood and could relate on a human level to anyone that she met. I remember seeing her arriving at Parliament House one day, walking down our corridor ever bright and giggling, telling me about all the new oddities entailed in international travel. And I'm embarrassed to say that I had to ask her where she had been and why as there had been no reporting locally on her incredible achievement.

As Senator O'Neill said, last week I attended the 144th IPU conference. Deb and I both struggled all week: do we go? Do we not go? We had our briefing and, after that, we both felt that we had to go because Kimberley would want us to go. Ultimately, we decided that Deb would go to the funeral and cry for both of us while I would fly the flag for us at the conference in Bali. I assure you there was no time by the pool, something that I'm sure would devastate Kimberley as well, but I think we did her proud. And I do have some pride in knowing that Kimba would be proud that in Australia's contribution to the Ukraine debate, we were the only nation to call out China by name. The speech was incredibly well received and other nations supported us in calling out China and its complicity in not condemning the illegal invasion by Russia.

Kimba was a great adversary in estimates. In true Kimba style, I would get short shrift had I interrupted her while she was trying to make a point, only for her to ultimately concede that, yes, that was my job—we would do this usually over a glass of bubbles and look forward to our next sparring exercise. I'm starting to feel the theme of the glass of bubbles to rectify things was strong for those of us who played a part in Kimba's life. I do think perhaps my fondest memories of her were in fact our far-too-new Christmas traditions: the ridiculous but beloved inflatables we put outside our office that started to become some form of competition, with mistletoe and Santa that would make Santa's workshop blush. I am looking forward to this festive season, where Kimba's inflatables will join mine outside my office—with no apologies to whomever moves in between Senator Chisholm and me in the future. They will just have to learn to deal with them. I will miss her giggles, her love of a good gossip that was never malicious and for being someone who fully understood the need that sometimes a champagne was exactly what was required—and the fact that she often wore more colour than me, and very often wore it much better with the addition of a ruffle or a sparkle.

To Andrew and her family, her dear friends, her staff and to everyone that loved her: your loss is beyond anything that words can feel, but my deepest condolences to you all. Rest in peace my darling KK.