A teen murderer grows up and finds freedom – his victim's mother still grieves

EXCLUSIVE: Sixteen years after 24-year-old Daryl Graydon was murdered, his teenage killer Sean Selby has embraced a second chance at life. He shares his powerful story for the first time, with SUNDAY reporter Jehan Casinader.

The chefs looked nervous. So did the waiters. Some had begun to sweat in their uniforms: crisp, freshly-ironed white dress shirts and tidy black trousers. This was no ordinary restaurant. It was the cafeteria at Wellington’s Rimutaka Prison, which had been transformed into a fancy eatery.

As part of Wellington’s annual food festival, top chef Martin Bosley spent weeks with a small group of inmates, teaching them the difference between a roux and a jus. After serious prep, they were ready to host hundreds of paying diners over two nights.

The razor wire around a prison exists for one reason: to keep the inmates as far away as possible from the general public. What would happen when the walls came down?

In 2014, as a Seven Sharp reporter, I filmed a story about this bold experiment. On a winter evening, I arrived at the prison for a lavish sit-down dinner. When the appetisers were served, the guests had no clue whether their waiter was a prison officer or a hardened criminal. They were wearing the same outfits.

Glancing across the room, I spotted a young man standing in the corner, holding a tray of canapés. I wandered over and struck up a conversation. He introduced himself as Sean Selby. From his body language, it was clear that he wasn’t taking a pay check from the Department of Corrections.

There’s no delicate way to ask someone why they’re in jail. “What are you in here for?” I asked.

Sean paused. “I was 18 years old. I had just finished high school and been accepted into the navy. I’d never had a run in with the law. But one night, I went out and got drunk. I ended up killing someone.”

We stood there in silence for a bit. My mind was full of questions. What had led this quiet, unassuming young man to make the biggest mistake of his life? How does someone with no criminal history end up committing one of the worst crimes imaginable?

I knew I wouldn’t get any answers that night. Strict rules prevent prisoners from granting interviews. I wished Sean all the best and headed back to my table.

When I got home, feeling stuffed after the delicious three-course meal, I opened my laptop and searched for Sean’s name. There was his face, staring back at me. It was a photo of him standing in the dock, being sentenced for murder.

In 2007, Sean and a friend were walking home from a party in East Auckland when they got into an argument with a group of people. Sean was punched by one of the men, 24-year-old Daryl Graydon. Sean and his mate ran home, grabbed some kitchen knives, and returned to where the altercation had happened. Sean chased Daryl, and stabbed him to death.

John Campbell describes journalism as a “get into jail free” card. It gives you access to places that most Kiwis never get to visit. It allows you to meet people you would never otherwise encounter.

My gut told me that Sean had a powerful story to tell. But I had no idea whether he would ever be released. After all, he’d been sentenced to life imprisonment.

Years later, I discovered that Sean had a Facebook page. Knowing he had no internet access in jail, it seemed pointless to send him a message. But I had nothing to lose.

I received a reply from his sister, Natalie. She told me that Sean had completed a rehabilitation programme in prison, along with a business diploma. She also had a message from him for me: “It's great to hear from you. I remember you well, and really enjoyed talking with you. I am open to talking more.”

In 2021, Sean was released on parole, after serving 11 years of his sentence. Parole Board chair Sir Ron Young wrote: “We are satisfied that Mr Selby is no longer an undue risk and can be released, as shown by his commitment to his rehabilitation.”

Some Kiwis would prefer to keep people like Sean locked up – and throw away the key. But under our law, the majority of prisoners will eventually be released back into the community, where they live alongside us.

It can be a tough transition. Some will have received little rehabilitation for mental health issues, addiction and trauma. Over a third of former inmates find themselves back in prison in just two years.

What allows someone to beat those odds? What factors allow a criminal to turn their life around? And is there any guarantee that the transformation will last?

When Sean was released, I caught up with him in person. He told me more of his life story: the events in his childhood that affected his behaviour; what really happened on the night of the murder; what he learnt in prison; and why he had hope for his future.

He was nervous about telling his story on national TV. How would people view him? Would the story affect his job prospects? How would it affect his victim’s family?

We kept talking for two years, as Sean built a new life. Now, he has decided to tell his story on Sunday – no holds barred.

But it’s impossible to tell Sean’s story without also telling Louanna Graydon’s. When Louanna was woken by a knock at the door, she had no idea that her world was about to crumble. A police officer said her son Daryl had been killed.

Sixteen years on, I visited Louanna at her home in Auckland, where Daryl’s presence is inescapable. His Tupac poster is on the wall. His baseball caps hang above the sofa. His ashes sit in an urn on the coffee table.

Louanna’s pain is still raw. She strongly believes that Sean should not have been released, and that he should give up his freedom.

In a story like this, it’s tempting to look for a nice, neat angle. What’s more important – Louanna’s grief? Or Sean’s desire to turn his life around? Perhaps the answer is "both".

Tonight’s story will provoke a strong emotional response in some of our viewers, especially those who have been affected by crime. But it’s also a rare chance to hear directly from someone who’s had to confront the worst decision they ever made.

When I sat down to interview Sean Selby, I saw a young man who is no different to many hundreds of men in our prisons – the kind of men we try to keep at a distance.

As the cameras rolled, a quote from Michelle Obama echoed in my mind. “I’ve learned that people are harder to hate – up close.”

Watch Sean Selby’s story, including an interview with his victim’s family, on SUNDAY, 7.30pm on TVNZ1, and TVNZ+.