My mother and I were reunited in 1978. I was two years old. My mother knew then that we would have to escape. If we remained I would never have an education and I would never have a future. In order to survive we had to go. My mother continued with her pretence of being a mad woman and most of the time was left alone. We continued to struggle for food; all the while my mother looked for ways for us to leave Vietnam.
My mother did find someone who would take us and many other families in a boat to safety. We left our house in the middle of the night. We had not told anyone of our plan. So many of us were waiting on the shore to get on the boat to freedom. Suddenly flashlights, soldiers and dogs came out of nowhere. The fate ahead was inevitable. As we were all huddled into a shed to wait, a young soldier came up to my mother and scolded her for putting my life at risk. My mother told him of her hopes, dreams and aspirations for me. He took pity on her and said he would help her to escape back to Saigon instead of us being put to death. The young officer would distract the rest of the soldiers, my mother and I were to run and hide under the bridge until he came for us.
The plan worked but it seemed like we waited for hours under the bridge before he came and yelled at us to run as fast as we could. We heard the sounds of dogs and gunfire as we ran and ran. We ran through thick jungle and then my mother dropped to the ground and could not run any more. The young soldier carried my mother and me on his back to the safety of his own mother’s house. We were given food and warmth and then had to make our way back to our house in Saigon. We unlocked the door and returned as if nothing had happened. The young hero had saved our lives.
My father was eventually released from prison in 1981. I was six years old. Things in Vietnam had gotten much worse and my father was determined that we all should leave. My parents said many times that they could die in Vietnam but this was not the way for me. I needed to go on and survive so that one day I could tell this story.
My father’s uncle had a small boat and it was decided that we had to try once more to leave Vietnam. Twenty adults and thirty children travelled on the boat with us. We decided we would head for Malaysia as they were allowing refugees into their country. It was said to be a short journey of no more than two days. We had heard many frightening stories about the terror at sea. There were stories of pirates and cannibalism yet this almost seemed worth the risk as opposed to never having freedom again.
After six days we still had not reached Malaysia. We were lost at sea. We came across an oil rig and were given food, water and a new map to find our way to freedom.
When we arrived on the Malaysian shore we were told we had to sink our boat. As we were doing so and trying to get to shore, my father told me to hang tightly onto him. He jumped into the water and I let go. I fell straight to the bottom and almost drowned. Once again my parents’ will to keep me alive made sure I was rescued and finally taken to the shores of Malaysia.
We remained in the camp for a month and were interviewed by American officials. We were asked if we wanted to settle in America but my father was very scared of them and said no. Everyone thought he was mad because now his application would go to the bottom of the list. The officials interviewing all the refugees were due to fly out over the Christmas period. A freak storm hit the island and they could not leave. The interviewing process continued. This time my father was interviewed by the Australians and was desperate to have his application accepted …
There was a knock on the door. I was startled and wondered where I was. My memories had taken me back to Saigon. A young girl in school uniform stood at the door. She was here for the interview and I knew I was ready to tell her our story.
Note
Mai Nguyen commenced school in Perth, Western Australia at Infant Jesus. She went on to Chisholm College and University. She gained a degree in Sociology, a Diploma in Adult Education and a Masters Degree. Today she works as a dedicated Community Settlement Services Worker assisting Vietnamese people settle into Australian life. She is currently campaigning for bilingual teachers. Mai believes the most important thing that can tie us together is a common language; it builds the bridges and differences between us all.
Mai’s mother and father own a restaurant. Her father has never been back to Vietnam; he has not forgotten the price he has had to pay for leaving his many family members behind.
Mai’s hopes for Vietnam are for freedom.
I will never forget the words Mai said to me: ‘A person who becomes a refugee does not always come with the hope of a better life, they come for survival, because they cannot continue to live and be alive in the country they are fleeing from. It takes desperate steps to leave in small boats to set off for a place that may never let you stay, but none of that matters because you leave your country for Freedom!’
The Life of Sadie Wagner
by Jack Lander, aged 12
I first met Sadie Wagner about six months ago when she visited our home. Sadie is a German lady who fled from her country towards the end of World War Two. During our time together we talked about the hardship she had experienced through her life.
Sadie grew up in a small town on the outskirts of East Berlin. She lived there with her mother, father and older sister. She lived a very quiet childhood, as her parents did not have much money. When she was about seventeen World War Two broke out and Sadie’s father had left the family home to fight the war in Russia. Life became even harder for Sadie and her mother and sister as food became very hard to obtain. They survived by growing their own fruit and vegetables and rearing chickens for eating and eggs. Meat was rarely available as the country’s meat supplies were taken by the invading Russian armies. The family also survived by the mother giving decorated cakes in return for other household products.
It came to the time when the Russians came in and took over their town. They were not allowed to leave and became prisoners to the Russians. All remaining older men in the town were taken from their homes and placed in prisoner of war camps a long way away from their homes. The younger men of the town were left to work for the Russians. If they refused to do what they were told they were severely tortured and then finally shot. Sadie, as did many of the other young girls, saw many acts of cruelty. For example, one young man who refused to do what he was told was nailed to the table by his tongue and, when he couldn’t hold his head up any longer, he was shot in the head. The women and young girls remained in the town to serve and look after the Russian armies.
The events over the coming months were to change Sadie’s outlook on life forever. Sadie had been told of the many terrible things that had been happening in the town due to the Russians. Sadie was of very slim build and therefore decided to dress and act like a young man so she would not become a victim of the enemy’s bad treatment. For many months Sadie worked for the Russians alongside other young German men, doing as she was told, and not being found out that she was really a young woman. During this time Sadie saw many horrible things, from young German men hanging in doorways with parts of their bodies missing, to young men being shot in the head in front of her for not answering a Russian soldier in a correct manner. It was on one of these occasions that Sadie, forgetting who she was, screamed when a young German fell down dead at her feet after being shot in the head. Instantly, Sadie was surrounded by a group of Russian soldiers. The one closest to her proceeded to rip her beret from her head, causing her hair to fall down to her shoulders. Straight away Sadie’s hands were tied behind her back and she was dragged out of the hall where she had been working, loaded into a waiting truck with eight soldiers surrounding her and taken back to her home. Sadie was dragged out of the truck and into her home where her mother tried to run to help her. Sadie’s mother was knocked to the floor and held there while Sadie was thrown down onto a nearby lounge. She was raped brutally by each and every one of the eight soldiers, while her mother cried helplessly, unable to help her daughter. The soldiers just laughed and shouted abuse at Sadie and her mother. After the soldiers left Sadie’s mo
ther bathed and dressed Sadie’s cuts and abrasions.
From that time until the Russians left the town, quite often soldiers would call at Sadie’s home for food and other services. It became a regular occurrence.
Sadie’s whole life had been turned upside down, not able to trust or get close to anyone.
Many months passed and, finally, the Russian armies left the town. Sadie’s mother had not heard from her husband for months, not knowing if he was dead or alive.
Gradually, Sadie tried to get her life back into order. She loved to dance, so Sadie started to go dancing on a Friday night at the local church hall. There, Sadie met an older man, fifteen years older than her. His name was Robert and he had heard about all the things that had happened to Sadie and her family. Sadie became quite close to Robert over the next few months as he was very patient and understanding and was very protective of Sadie.
Some time passed and Robert asked Sadie to marry him and follow him to Australia where he had been given a job opportunity. Sadie and Robert were quickly married and lived with Robert’s mother, who did not like Sadie. She did not think that Sadie was good enough for her son because of what had happened to Sadie in the past. Robert’s mother made life very unpleasant for Sadie, especially after Robert had left for Australia to start his new job. Sadie had to stay with her mother-in-law for twelve months before Robert had enough money to bring Sadie out to Australia.
When she arrived in Australia, Sadie lived in a migrant hostel with other German migrants. She slept in what was like a big dormitory containing twenty-four beds with very basic bed coverings. Sadie lived there for a further six months without her husband until he had enough money to put a deposit on a small house where they would live their entire married life.
Robert and Sadie had one son. They worked very hard to achieve the things they needed to make life comfortable for their small family.
Sadie’s father never came back from the war, so it was presumed that he was killed in the war. Her sister became mentally ill due to what had happened to her during the war and was found hanging in the bathroom when she was twenty-five years old. Sadie never saw her mother again, but kept in contact with her until she died alone in their family home ten years ago.
Sadie has lived a very quiet life with her husband and son, until Robert died suddenly eight years ago. Since then, Sadie has lived comfortably, but lonely, in their home. She has many good friends who care for and look after her, and a loving son who makes sure that Sadie has everything she needs in her old age.
I WATCH THE WORLD AROUND ME CHANGE
‘We need these stories to give human faces, not numbers, to the refugees who arrive on our shores.’
The Refugee Story
by Pharan Akhtarkhavari, aged 13
There are different types of prejudice in the world: prejudice of country, colour, language and worst of all prejudice of religion. Throughout the history of the world, many people have suffered persecution because of one or more types of prejudice. In the 21st century we are still witnessing persecution and prejudice.
The refugee story I have chosen is about my uncle and his family, who suffered because of religious persecution. Even though this is my uncle and his family’s story, it is the typical story for any refugee.
My uncle came to Australia in November 1991 as a religious refugee from Iran. He is a member of the Baha’i Faith. Many Baha’is from Iran were forced to seek refuge throughout the world after the Islamic revolution, which occurred from 1978 to 1979 in Iran. Since the revolution in Iran, Baha’is in Iran have not had clear futures.
He told me there was no security of life or of even having a life, and absolutely no freedom. He said they wouldn’t even let you go to university; they would exclude you from receiving a tertiary education. Baha’is in Iran suffered a lot for no apparent reason. As a Baha’i, I know we want peace for the whole world, not for it to be a divided race. We believe in respect for all other religions and tolerance to others. Baha’is weren’t even allowed to go to work or have a job. They were considered second-class citizens.
My uncle’s plan was to escape from Iran just to have some freedom. He wanted to be counted as a citizen, not a second-class citizen. He wanted his children to have an education. He wanted to become a civil engineer but he couldn’t if he stayed in Iran. So my uncle and his family escaped to Turkey. My uncle wanted the United Nations to choose a good country for him and his family to live in for the rest of their lives. My uncle told the United Nations that he already had his sister in Australia for a support network and that it would be helpful to go there, but he said it was their decision. The United Nations sent them to the Australian embassy in Turkey to talk to the ambassador to explain their situation. After the United Nations, the embassy and my uncle had all talked, they decided to accept my uncle and his family for refugee status in Australia. So they came to Australia and moved to Toowoomba in Queensland where my mum and dad were living at the time. In the end my uncle was really pleased because they are all safe and happy now.
Now I will go into detail of the escape out of Iran. First my uncle and the family caught a bus to Tabriz from Shiraz which is approximately a two day drive. Then in Tabriz they got a car from friends and went to Makou down the back streets, which weren’t very busy and didn’t have soldiers checking identification (Makou is the border town of Iran and Turkey). Then from Makou they walked for seven days and nights, until they got to a village in the mountains. Then from this village they drove to Ankara, which is the capital city of Turkey. They stayed in Ankara for two months. The family then went and stayed in Neede for fouteen months. They then got great news of being accepted as refugees in Australia. They came to Australia all excited to be free of all the religious prejudice of the past. This part of his life my uncle said, was very distressing and scary because they didn’t want to get caught, they just wanted to be free and not counted as second-class citizens.
My uncle and his family adjusted very well here in Australia. At first it was a struggle because they had no transport, no house and almost no life. The only person and family they had were my mum and dad. My uncle and aunty had to learn English very quickly because they wanted to succeed at university. Each of them had to work very hard at university. They both got distinctions and high distinctions in their subjects.
When they got here they were so surprised that everyone was treating them so fairly. Now twelve years have passed and my uncle is a main roads civil engineer, my aunty is a registered nurse and my two cousins are in their senior years in high school and doing great and achieving high marks. My family has worked very hard to get where they are today. They are extremely happy that they made the decision to leave their troubled life in Iran and start a new life in Australia.
I hope after reading this story about my uncle and his family that you know what refugees go through to get to our great country. This is just one of the gripping stories about someone coming from a Middle Eastern country to seek freedom in Australia.
To Hell and Back
by Aidan Fawkes, aged 15
A once free flowing river in the centre of Halabja, the world’s ‘most beautiful’ city, has dried up, the land around it devastated. Piles of dirt create a sultry atmosphere in and around the Iraqi region of Kurdistan. Buildings have crashed to the earth, homes ripped apart. War has destroyed a once exquisite city, forcing many to flee their home country and their way of life. This is what happened to Pishtiwan and his family. This is his story.
Pishtiwan was born in 1984 in Iraq, the second child in his family. Soon after his birth, the family fled to neighbouring country Iran, leaving his whole life—memories, family and home behind. His father took what he could, however it wasn’t much to take from a country which had been his home all his life. War was approaching and survival was getting harder and harder by the day. On one occasion, Pishtiwan and his family were having lunch. Suddenly and unexpectedly a missile landed in their front yard. They then knew it was time to flee
the country.
The first few months in Iran were tense. The family was still on the run. They were still illegal emigrants in the minds of the Iraqi officials, as they had left the country without telling the government. They didn’t have a place to hide. For five years, Iran was home for the family. Pishtiwan and his brother attended school and his father had a well-paying job. Life was stable for them.
In 1989 after a long war with Iraq, Iran was a devastated country, and the government was forcing refugees out of the country. This caused dismay and insecurity for Pishtiwan and his family, as again they had to move to another country.
‘All around you Pakistani border control personnel eyeing you up, trying to find a flaw in you, suspecting you for everything. Try to look away, but remain aware of your surrounds. Men with guns in every direction. One wrong foot and death would be a prospect. Stay close, keep moving forward. Remain unnoticed …’
Pishtiwan and his family were able to make it past the border with caution. Not saying anything, not acting differently. His father had earned some money that secured his family a pass into Pakistan.
‘A lot of smuggling goes on between Afghanistan and Pakistan. There are many people who are suspect at the border and everyone is treated as a criminal. It is very dangerous and very scary. At any one moment, a guard could turn on you and send you back in the direction you came from—and no one would dispute him. It was one of the scariest times in my life,’ Pishtiwan said.
From the border, Pishtiwan, his father and his brother made it to Quetta, a very hot and dry city in western Pakistan. They stayed here for eleven years, having to be cautious and alert at all times. Pishtiwan fitted in well, looking like the locals and speaking their language. His appearance made him the member of the family to head onto the streets and purchase food and other goods needed for the family’s wellbeing.
Dark Dreams Page 15