In beginning to understand…

Yesterday I visited the Melbourne Immigration Transit Accommodation for the first time. I wasn’t sure what to expect, as any information I’ve gathered about the centre I heard through other people. I went in with someone who I met through a journalist friend of mine. She is a frequent visitor there and was able to introduce me to many people. You cannot just turn up and enter the centre, you need to know someone who you can request to visit before entering.

When visiting MITA they give you this green band to wear. I found it somewhat amusing that they have such a simple system to tell people apart, given the last time I wore one of these would have been at a concert.

When entering the main visiting room I was pleasantly surprised to be surrounded by families, women and children. I was told that just two years ago, you would mostly find men here. But now that many refugees have been processed, people are visiting with their families. The room is much like any community centre. Many couches, chairs and coffee tables for people to sit in groups, a small kitchen area in the corner where you can make noodles and tea, and a projector to screen television. A lot of the kids played games with each other and had toys, and those too young to know where they were, were running around having a ball.

I met a married couple Najibullah (“Najib”) and Kaniz, who are Hazara’s with an Afghan heritage, and lived in Quetta in northern Pakistan.

On one side of the room are full floor to ceiling windows that showed the grounds outside. The design reminds me of any modern high school, with benches, trees a volley ball court and a larger court further back where I’m guessing people would play soccer. There is also a gym available and classrooms for all to take english language lessons, and kids get to take a whole manner of primary school classes, such as english, math and science.

I met a married couple Najibullah (“Najib”) and Kaniz, who are Hazara’s with an Afghan heritage, and they lived in Quetta in northern Pakistan. They were very friendly and happy to talk to me. I still find it hard to understand how open refugees have been with me. They’ve seen some of the most horrifying things imaginable with their own eyes, yet they tell me about it anyway, because they are happy to be safe and secure in Australia.

In the Middle East Hazara’s are persecuted by the Taliban, because of who they are. The majority of the Hazara people are followers of Shi’ah Islam, which is the second largest denomination of Islam. The largest being Sunni Islam, which is what the Taliban are. The differences in Shi’ah and Sunni Islam isn’t greatly different, but despite this the Shi’ah are treated as a lower class by radical Sunni groups such as the Taliban.

The Hazara’s are a Persian speaking ethnic minority in the Middle East, that descend from the Mongols. Their Mongol heritage gives them strong central Asian facial features that are distinctly different from the majority of the Middle Eastern people. Through this, the Taliban are able to tell them apart even from a far, and because most Hazara’s are Shi’ah, that makes them targets for the Taliban. There is a sick irony wherein they have fled from a country where they are persecuted for being who they are, and now we are doing the same because of who they are.

There is a sick irony wherein they have fled from a country where they are persecuted for being who they are, and now we are doing the same because of who they are.

Najib tells me a story. Where he came from there is a stretch of road 1 kilometer long that is the only road leading to the store where they buy supplies such as food. In this one kilometer you have to put your foot down and drive as fast as you possibly can. Because in this one kilometer, terrorist groups such as Lashkar e Jangvi, Sipahe Sahaba, Laskhare Tayba, and the Taliban, sit and wait with their guns, and they will shoot any Hazara’s who drive through that area, as it is the only stretch of road that leads from their town, to the store. “They always aim for the head”, says Najib, because a head injury means no recovery.

This used to only happen in the early morning and late evening, as the police and army would be around to stop them. But in recent times the security forces have avoided the Taliban, not only in Quetta but all over Pakistan. Najib doesn’t know if this is because of fear, or because they don’t want to help. The Taliban used to only attack men, now they attack women and children too. “Where is humanity? There is no humanity here.”

Najib’s wife Kaniz is two months pregnant. She is very desperate to get out and live her life in Australia. I can only begin to understand her anxiety, it would be hard to keep yourself busy in a place like this. She tells me that she knits, and that she learned to knit from other women teaching her at the centre. All the women teach each other how to knit, it’s a good social and creative way to keep their minds occupied. She is also curious about journalism and what I do, she tells me that she worked for a magazine back in her country. She enjoyed writing stories and even got to write and publish poetry. It’s been a few years since she wrote last, but she’s a bit intimidated to begin writing again.

Now it’s all good and well that I write this, and make it public for people to understand more about what goes on in refugee processing centres. But I’m just some over privileged, pretentious white guy who has very little understanding of what these people actually go through. The shame of it all is that the media as a whole is doing just this as well. One of my goals is to change that. I want to help people like Kaniz and Najib by not just telling their stories, but to get them to tell their stories.

What you miss in me quoting a line and paraphrasing of an entire story, is the raw emotion you hear in their voices. There is a human element that is still missing here, and I’m still working on ways to change this. Watch this space.