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Australians complain about weeks in quarantine. I've been in immigration detention for almost eight years Australians complain about weeks in quarantine. I've been in immigration detention for almost eight years
(about 7 hours later)
I want to enter a long dream in which I can walk as far as my legs can carry me, to go on a long trip, with snow or rain or sunshineI want to enter a long dream in which I can walk as far as my legs can carry me, to go on a long trip, with snow or rain or sunshine
She runs. She laughs. I do not hear her, I only see her smile.She runs. She laughs. I do not hear her, I only see her smile.
I smile as I stand here looking outside the window of the hotel room, smile at the sensation of living life that it gives me. The sensation of freedom. I smile as I stand here looking outside the window of the Melbourne hotel room, smile at the sensation of living life that it gives me. The sensation of freedom.
I remove my hand from the sole glass wall in this suffocating room I live in and sit on the same chair I always sit on. This is not a regular chair. I call it the chair of torment. It seems I sit on this chair until it torments me.I remove my hand from the sole glass wall in this suffocating room I live in and sit on the same chair I always sit on. This is not a regular chair. I call it the chair of torment. It seems I sit on this chair until it torments me.
The sound of the TV is loud. It is announcing something about Covid-19 and explaining that many people in Australia are tired of quarantine. A cynical smile emerges on my face.The sound of the TV is loud. It is announcing something about Covid-19 and explaining that many people in Australia are tired of quarantine. A cynical smile emerges on my face.
The little girl disappears from the footpath with her mother. I cannot see them any more.The little girl disappears from the footpath with her mother. I cannot see them any more.
I want to ask something of those people appearing on that small rectangle TV set and talking about how they are ailed by quarantine: “Until now have you ever been in a situation where you were confined to a hotel room for almost a year? A situation where you could only go for a walk in your room or a corridor? It is ridiculous! Perhaps they have never thought to themselves that even while they are quarantined their freedoms are what some person is dreaming of – someone like me. Someone like me cannot go out from this place I am confined in.”I want to ask something of those people appearing on that small rectangle TV set and talking about how they are ailed by quarantine: “Until now have you ever been in a situation where you were confined to a hotel room for almost a year? A situation where you could only go for a walk in your room or a corridor? It is ridiculous! Perhaps they have never thought to themselves that even while they are quarantined their freedoms are what some person is dreaming of – someone like me. Someone like me cannot go out from this place I am confined in.”
I have been in “quarantine” for almost eight years, not because of Covid-19 but because I asked for asylum.I have been in “quarantine” for almost eight years, not because of Covid-19 but because I asked for asylum.
To be able to live one’s life is a natural right. Every human being deserves that. Freedom loses its meaning when you are denied it.To be able to live one’s life is a natural right. Every human being deserves that. Freedom loses its meaning when you are denied it.
I am Mardin. I am a refugee; someone who is asking for protection. Just imagine you risked your life striving to cross the all-encompassing ocean in a boat; to journey here with all the multifarious difficulties that it involves. To arrive in Australian territory. However, you are not a “normal” human being. They incarcerate you. Why?I am Mardin. I am a refugee; someone who is asking for protection. Just imagine you risked your life striving to cross the all-encompassing ocean in a boat; to journey here with all the multifarious difficulties that it involves. To arrive in Australian territory. However, you are not a “normal” human being. They incarcerate you. Why?
I have never received a reasonable answer to this question. We deserve to breathe, just like every other person, we deserve to live life.I have never received a reasonable answer to this question. We deserve to breathe, just like every other person, we deserve to live life.
Eight years is a long time. During an eight-year period of time one can see how a newborn has matured into a fully grown child. And we are almost eight years in detention, surrounded by fences. Now what is next?Eight years is a long time. During an eight-year period of time one can see how a newborn has matured into a fully grown child. And we are almost eight years in detention, surrounded by fences. Now what is next?
I remember the day they told us we would be leaving that detention centre, I remember the last day on Manus Island, that place where we witnessed suicide, self-harm and other kinds of violence. We were so happy that day that we were bursting with joy.I remember the day they told us we would be leaving that detention centre, I remember the last day on Manus Island, that place where we witnessed suicide, self-harm and other kinds of violence. We were so happy that day that we were bursting with joy.
No one knew where the flight was taking us, no one knew we would be taken to a hotel within a city, to more guards and surveillance, guards that never take their eyes off us, to level three of this hotel.No one knew where the flight was taking us, no one knew we would be taken to a hotel within a city, to more guards and surveillance, guards that never take their eyes off us, to level three of this hotel.
We cannot go beyond level three. I do not know if you can fathom it … can you? Imagine you are not even allowed to be by yourself for a moment or go for a walk. I cannot even stand looking in the mirror. I cannot bear to look into it, I do not recognise the person looking back at me. That face is not my face. My hair has turned grey, I have wrinkles around my eyes. I look totally exhausted. I no longer have the same enthusiasm I once did. I even doubt that when I leave this room I will be able to take pleasure in being free. More than anything else I want to close my eyes and never open them again. I want to enter a long dream in which I can walk as far as my legs can carry me, to go on a long trip, with snow or rain or sunshine. It does not matter. I just want to be alone in an open landscape without the guards.We cannot go beyond level three. I do not know if you can fathom it … can you? Imagine you are not even allowed to be by yourself for a moment or go for a walk. I cannot even stand looking in the mirror. I cannot bear to look into it, I do not recognise the person looking back at me. That face is not my face. My hair has turned grey, I have wrinkles around my eyes. I look totally exhausted. I no longer have the same enthusiasm I once did. I even doubt that when I leave this room I will be able to take pleasure in being free. More than anything else I want to close my eyes and never open them again. I want to enter a long dream in which I can walk as far as my legs can carry me, to go on a long trip, with snow or rain or sunshine. It does not matter. I just want to be alone in an open landscape without the guards.
I am alerted by the alarm from my mobile. My mother is calling me. I fix my hair:I am alerted by the alarm from my mobile. My mother is calling me. I fix my hair:
Hi Mum.Hi Mum.
Hi my son.Hi my son.
How’re you, Mum? I miss you.How’re you, Mum? I miss you.
I’m fine my son, I was praying that you would be released soon. Mardin, why are you always in that same chair, in that same room? Go outside in the yard my son, or to some open space.I’m fine my son, I was praying that you would be released soon. Mardin, why are you always in that same chair, in that same room? Go outside in the yard my son, or to some open space.
No Mum, it’s cold outside.No Mum, it’s cold outside.
You’ve been saying that for months now. Is it always winter in Australia?You’ve been saying that for months now. Is it always winter in Australia?
No Mum, I’m more comfortable like this, it’s better talking to you inside the room.No Mum, I’m more comfortable like this, it’s better talking to you inside the room.
Be strong my son.Be strong my son.
I do not remember what I said after that, and eventually my mother says goodbye.I do not remember what I said after that, and eventually my mother says goodbye.
Bye, Mum.Bye, Mum.
I realise she is crying, I saw her tears. I feel the same way, but these years have normalised the longing. I do not want my roommates to see me upset.I realise she is crying, I saw her tears. I feel the same way, but these years have normalised the longing. I do not want my roommates to see me upset.
My mother has been waiting for good news for eight years. Poor thing, my purgatory is torturing her.My mother has been waiting for good news for eight years. Poor thing, my purgatory is torturing her.
Life outside this window goes on. Now a young man is walking where I saw the little girl and her mother. It is possible that for the rest of his life he will never know that up here there was someone like me looking down at him, with a longing for living life like him.Life outside this window goes on. Now a young man is walking where I saw the little girl and her mother. It is possible that for the rest of his life he will never know that up here there was someone like me looking down at him, with a longing for living life like him.
Mardin Arvin is a Kurdish Iranian writer and translator who has been imprisoned by the Australian government since 2013: Manus Island (2013-19), Port Moresby (2019), and Melbourne (2019, ongoing). He works in four languages: Kurdish, Farsi, English and Tok Pisin; and he is conducting research and writing a book while incarcerated. His work has been published in Meanjin and the Guardian.Mardin Arvin is a Kurdish Iranian writer and translator who has been imprisoned by the Australian government since 2013: Manus Island (2013-19), Port Moresby (2019), and Melbourne (2019, ongoing). He works in four languages: Kurdish, Farsi, English and Tok Pisin; and he is conducting research and writing a book while incarcerated. His work has been published in Meanjin and the Guardian.
Translated by Omid Tofighian, an award-winning lecturer, researcher and community advocate. He is adjunct lecturer in the School of the Arts and Media, UNSW and honorary research associate for the Department of Philosophy, University of Sydney. His published works include Myth and Philosophy in Platonic Dialogues (Palgrave 2016) and he is the translator of Behouz Boochani’s multi-award winning book No Friend but the Mountains: Writing From Manus Prison (Picador 2018).Translated by Omid Tofighian, an award-winning lecturer, researcher and community advocate. He is adjunct lecturer in the School of the Arts and Media, UNSW and honorary research associate for the Department of Philosophy, University of Sydney. His published works include Myth and Philosophy in Platonic Dialogues (Palgrave 2016) and he is the translator of Behouz Boochani’s multi-award winning book No Friend but the Mountains: Writing From Manus Prison (Picador 2018).