How a group of women confronted the Mama Hooch rapists and took back control

One by one, eight women stood in court, faced their attackers and took back control.

Each had a story to tell about the trauma and misery inflicted upon them by Danny and Roberto Jaz – the Mama Hooch rapists.

Their accounts were all different but chillingly similar.

The brothers’ offending over a three and a half year period was at a level unparalleled in New Zealand.

While running their father’s now infamous central city bar, the men, aged 40 and 38, sexually assaulted and/or drugged 23 women until they were arrested in 2018 as part of a massive police investigation dubbed Operation Sinatra.

On Thursday, in a packed Christchurch District Court courtroom, they learned not only their fate, but also the pain and suffering their campaign of abuse had caused.

Both were handed lengthy jail terms – Danny 16 and a half years, and Roberto 17.

The women who bravely confronted the brothers during the hearing spoke of feeling scared, ashamed, vulnerable, anxious and lacking in trust since they were attacked.

Several moved away from Christchurch before February’s long-awaited two-month trial because they feared bumping into the rapists while they were out on bail. Many attended counselling and took time off work to deal with their trauma. Some talked about how the protracted court process had caused them further harm. One said she’d contemplated suicide. There was anger and tears as they described how their lives would never be the same.

Sophie Brown was 19 when she was drugged and sexually violated by Danny Jaz on a night out at Mama Hooch in 2017. She waived the automatic name suppression afforded to sexual assault victims.

Brown, now 25, recalled waking up the morning after the attack, hazy about the events that had unfolded the night before, but knowing something horrible had happened.

The days and months that followed were some of the darkest days of her life. She experienced a range of emotions, including shame, sadness, embarrassment and loneliness, as she tried to move on with her life and distract herself from the vague memories of the terrifying ordeal that were etched into her mind. Her fierce independence, right to feel safe and autonomy over her body had been stolen, she said.

The fallout from Jaz’s offending was ongoing. Brown said she attended weekly counselling, and found it hard to trust men and enjoy a loving relationship. Only recently had she stopped blaming herself for what happened.

But, Brown said, she hadn’t let Jaz ruin her life.

“That would assume you’re anything more than worthless. I’m still a confident, tenacious and strong-willed woman.”

Jane and Lisa (not their real names), the two women whose complaints sparked Operation Sinatra, stood side by side in court, as they read their victim impact statements.

The pair were out celebrating Lisa’s 18th birthday in 2018 when Roberto Jaz enticed them to his family’s nearby Italian restaurant Venuti with an offer of free drinks, and attacked them.

“I was targeted by a predator,” Lisa told the court.

“What this man did to me was vile. It was a disgusting act to perform on a helpless teenage girl who was unable to consent. That night you took my innocence.”

It was made worse by watching him do the same to her friend.

Lisa said the attack continued to haunt her, but knowing that Jaz would forever be known as a sexual predator was “liberating” and “justice for us all”.

A woman who was drugged and raped by the Jaz brothers in 2017 recalled getting in the shower the next day “and scrubbing my skin hoping that the repulsive feeling I had would be washed away from the drain”.

The woman said she became a shell of herself and dismissive of people who cared about her.

“I went from somebody who liked who I was to someone who was repulsed with what I saw in the mirror.”

She contemplated suicide on more than one occasion.

“You harmed me physically, emotionally, psychologically and financially. You robbed me of my right to self-love, and my right to learn how to love others. You took away my trust, and you took away my right to live as a young carefree woman without fear. But I need to make it very clear that despite all of this, you didn’t take anything from me that I haven’t recovered from in great strides. I can feel this dark cloud clearing.”

A woman who was drugged and indecently assaulted by Danny Jaz said she left New Zealand after seeing him on a night out in Christchurch after the attack.

Afraid of a repeat, she didn’t return until the trial.

“My memories of a city I once felt at home in are permanently tainted with trauma.”

But there was a silver lining to her ordeal.

Through her dealings with police, she’d decided she wanted to become an officer herself.

“I plan on giving it my all just like I have during this process and fight for the validation of women, fight for them to be believed and fight them to be safe in our cities and towns.”

In sentencing the Jaz brothers, Judge Paul Mabey, KC, didn’t mince his words.

The judge said the pair had lied to try and escape conviction, and shown no remorse.

Their “predatory and heartless” offending was driven by arrogance, a misguided self belief and a complete lack of respect for the rights of the vulnerable young women they’d attacked and left “severely damaged”.

Positive character references filed in support of the men were unfounded.

“You are not men of good character, you’re sexual predators,” the judge said to applause and a cry of “absolutely” from the public gallery.

“No person in our society has the right to treat others as beneath them … and heartlessly exploit them.

“The level of your offending is unknown in this country … you helped yourself to young women with callous disregard for their rights and their dignity.”

The Jaz brothers sat stoney faced throughout the sentencing, as a small group of their supporters, including their sibling Davide, watched quietly from the public gallery.

Some of the victims wiped tears from their eyes as the judge banished the pair to jail.

Danny Jaz’s sentence was less than his brother’s because of credit he received for guilty pleas he made in the second week of the trial.

Both must serve 50% of their sentences before they’re eligible for parole.

While Thursday’s sentencing closed the door on the court process, the case will likely have an enduring impact. It’s sparked conversations about consent, and how predators can go unchecked.

“The uncomfortable truth is, that sexual violence is rife in Aotearoa,” said Jo Bader, sexual violence kaimahi (worker) at Aviva, a family and sexual violence agency.

“This stood out because of its scale and brazenness, but it did not happen in a vacuum. It’s just the tip of the iceberg.

“What happened [on Thursday] was the final chapter in a story that started with misogyny and was written in rape culture. Now we can write a new one.”

Sexual violence: where to get help

• Rape Crisis 0800 88 33 00, click link for local helplines.

• Victim Support 0800 842 846.

• Safetalk text 4334, phone 0800 044 334 webchat safetotalk.nz or email support@safetotalk.nz.

• The Harbour Online support and information for people affected by sexual abuse.

• Women’s Refuge 0800 733 843

• Male Survivors Aotearoa Helplines across NZ, click to find out more (males only).

• If you or someone else is in immediate danger, call 111.

• If you or someone you know is in a dangerous situation, click the Shielded icon at the bottom of this website to contact Women’s Refuge in a safe and anonymous way without it being traced in your browser history. If you’re in our app, visit the mobile website here to access Shielded.