A couple of days ago I heard that the Labor government is seeking the power to deport non-citizens under its controversial migration bills. I’m really worried. So many refugees and asylum seekers are also worried about what these new laws will mean for us. Who will be deported and when? We already have no real security and this latest political gamesmanship makes us worry even more.
I arrived in Australia by boat on 25 July 2013. It had been a devastatingly tough journey after being forced to leave my beautiful homeland, Kurdistan. Since 1979 it has been occupied by the regime of Iran, which has been systemically violating the human rights of my people, especially women. As I stood up for my people, I was in danger. I did not want to be tortured or killed by the government. I had no choice but to flee.
The turbulent ocean that we crossed, in a tiny, flimsy boat with 100 other desperate women, children and men, was safer than my homeland. I preferred to be sunk in the ocean rather than end up a prisoner of the ayatollah’s regime. My only crime: seeking to exercise my freedom of speech.
When I arrived in Australia, I thought the government would help me to find safety. Instead it exiled us to Manus or Nauru. We were imprisoned and tortured, mentally and physically, in Australia’s detention centres.
Six and a half years of this cruelty left me chronically unwell. I was transferred to Australia for medical treatment. The Labor party supported the medevac legislation that enabled this journey. Yet instead of the treatment and care I so badly needed, I was locked up in a so-called hotel. It felt to me like a coffin.
For 15 months I had no fresh air. They violated my personal space with invasive body searches. Every day the security invaded my room – at all hours of the day and night. There was never any peace or privacy. They warned me not to talk to the media about the conditions.
In January 2021 I won my freedom with the help of thousands of Australians who supported us. Yet my “freedom” came with further constraints. Every six months I have to apply for bridging visa E. Its restrictions forbid me from studying or getting a qualification. Even though it provides me permission to stay, its temporary nature leaves me permanently insecure. I am recognised as a refugee yet they can order me to leave Australia.
Trauma is a friend of mine. I’m healing myself through the connection I have with the many amazing Australians I have met. These people are my family. The Australian government may have tried to crush my spirit but I have made many friends and know how good Australian people can be.
I moved to Sydney in August 2021 and have been living and working here ever since, including for the charity ReLove, where I worked for one year. We furnished 1,000 houses for people experiencing domestic violence, so I got to see another side of my new city and the kindness – and the needs – of some Australians.
Without art supplies on Manus, I turned to what I could access: I started painting with a toothbrush and coffee. When settling in Sydney I found the freedom to make art – and have been continuing to paint with the same style that I learned during my suffering on Manus. In 2022 and 2024 I became an Archibald prize finalist. The relationship I built with the art gallery has meant that I now have a meaningful job at this cultural institution. I love my job. My colleagues are welcoming, erudite and warm. I have now met many people and made many friends across the art world.
Even though I am only on six-month visas, I have a job, a home and a community. I have a place where I belong.
I was happy when Labor won the election. After so many years of Coalition government I thought it would protect the rights of refugees and asylum seekers. I think a lot of Labor voters wanted it to be better too.
For eight years I was tortured by the Australian government, yet I still love Australia. To not know if you will ever be safe is another kind of torture. These new laws are cruel. No one deserves this.
I would like to ask every Australian who cares about humanity: please help stop this bill.
Mostafa Azimitabar is a refugee and Archibald prize finalist
