When refugees and asylum seekers were first told of a deal that Australia had struck to relocate them to the United States, some were sceptical but others allowed themselves to hope.
Last week, as confusion spread about whether the deal would be honoured by President Donald Trump, I interviewed 10 Iranian women about how they were feeling. They had rejected the subjugation of women’s lives in Iran by escaping – but in Australian immigration detention, they found another form of oppression.
Each of these women has lived on Nauru for almost four years and I can not stop admiring their persistence, consistency and hope to achieve not only peace but also justice.
The women below have given me their permission to share their thoughts. Here is what they told me.
Mina Taherkhani, 36:
We live in the heart of a fire where during the day not even the birds fly. Only from 6pm you can see them flying and hear them singing. I feel like the Australian government utilises all of their tools to make us soulless and numb. They have normalised our deprivation, fatality and death.
They’ve lied to us so often that nothing is believable to me anymore. I can’t even allow myself to dream that one day I will sit in an aeroplane and leave this stricken island forever. I never actually believed they would move us to the US, however many of my friends did and they were shocked when they realised it was another game.
A young boy who had come to Nauru alone when he was underage, attempted to commit suicide when he found out. After four years of living in inhumane conditions, it is painful that we should have to continually fight for our basic right to have a hygienic, peaceful place to live free from violence. Under any circumstances, I wouldn’t go back to Iran, as those male relatives who abused me sexually and emotionally are still there.
Yasaman, 19:
I’ve attempted suicide twice by eating shampoo and washing powder. When I think about it, I still feel sore in my throat. My memories in Nauru are eating away at my soul like leprosy. I feel I am devalued and humiliated. Every day I see people harming themselves and I feel powerless to help them. Whenever I hear any noises from a crowd I automatically think someone has killed themselves again. I can’t get used to this nightmare.
Each time I have a panic attack and I don’t know where I can hide. I could only complete year nine at school. I no longer have any dreams for my future and actually I can’t even think about it anymore.
When I heard there was a possibility of living in the US I was confused. My frozen spirit didn’t know whether to believe it or not. But any hope was short-lived and soon I realised that it was another game.
It made me want to sleep the whole day in my mouldy tent and not see anyone. The Australian government treats us like rubbish. They throw us in an isolated place where we are subject to the aggression of Nauru’s police and detention officers, and nobody is allowed in to see it. We’re invisible and leaving Nauru is just an impossible dream.
Leila, 33:
Seeing my three sons wearing a school uniform and going to school is my only dream.
Nauru is a hell! If you leave an egg out of the fridge, it can be cooked in two minutes. There is only one tent with air conditioning. The children, including my sons, went there to lay down. An officer came and told them they have to leave the cool tent because it is not theirs. They told the officer that outside of this tent, the heat is too much to bear and is burning them but the huge officers called in the police and they started to hit the kids so that they would get out of the tent.
When we were invited to fill in applications to transfer to the US, my 17-year-old son, who is truly depressed and had stopped talking, insisted I apply as soon as possible. Now he is silent again. Due to stress, my eight-year-old son has been losing his hair, little by little, in circle-shaped patches usually about the size of a coin. I’ve attempted self-harm three times. I can’t tolerate the fact that I am not able to save my children and give them hope anymore.
Azita, 40:
It’s not the sun in Nauru, it is a fireball that burns us and I want to tear up the sun. We live in a mouldy tent that even the strongest animals couldn’t tolerate its heat. They don’t give us a fridge to have cold water in this hell and it’s too hot to walk the long distance to get a glass of water from a dirty cooler. Where else in the world would jailers hesitate to provide basics such as cold water to the prisoners, especially the children?
ABF representatives informed us that Australia had negotiated a deal with the US and everyone, including refugees and asylum seekers, who are willing to settle in the US can register. We are exhausted.
Immigration has continuously lied to us so it’s really hard to believe them. However we feel like we’re sinking and need to grab onto whatever we can, so we all registered in the hope of rescuing ourselves.
They took a picture of us and we had our first interview, which covered questions about our personal information, such as name, and case history.
Later they told us that only those who have refugee status can apply. Those with refugee status received a code to follow the progress of their case. They made an appointment to have their interview with a representative of Department of Homeland Security from the US. Most of the interviews were scheduled to happen in February, however, when people were checking online, it was noticed that all the appointments had been removed.
Now we are all in our gloomy dusty tents again. Our children’s hope has been burst like a bubble and they are devastated.