Presumed Guilty Until
Proven Innocent
by Marlia Saunders 16 October, 2001
Mariam Bahbiri seems just like any normal teenage schoolgirl. No one could possibly know that six months ago, the 17-year-old arrived in Australia illegally. She and her family escaped from war-torn Afghanistan after Mariam's father went missing, presumed executed by Taliban militants.
On their arrival in Australia, the Bahbiris rented an apartment in Sydney's north-west and the children enrolled in school. Over the next few months, they began to build a new life. However, Mariam and her family were discovered through school enrolments. On June 16, they were apprehended and locked away in Villawood Immigration Detention Centre.
"I thought after we came here that we could start a new life," Mariam says. "But then we got sent there and we thought it was over and that they would send us back to Afghanistan."
When Mariam's mother developed chronic asthma from the dirty conditions in the detention centre, she was hospitalised for two weeks, leaving the children alone. As the eldest of the four, Mariam became responsible for her brothers, Amahl, 16 and Hamid, 13, and her sister Zia, 9. "It was hard because there's all these bad things in there," Mariam tells. "I had to keep the family together."
Under Australian law, refugees must be detained until their applications for protection visas are processed, even though it is not a criminal offence to enter Australia without a visa. The detention is administrative, not a prison or correctional sentence. However, with its high fences and barbed wire, the detention centre is a gaol. "You don't know what day or what time it is," says Mariam. "The time goes slowly and you really don't know what to do."
The Department of Immigration and Multicultural Affairs claims that the detention facilities provide a full range of services, including education programs, cultural activities, sporting activities and religious services. But from their experience, the Bahbiris know that there is very little to do.
"People would get up at two o'clock in the afternoon because there's nothing to do," Mariam says. "You would see people walking around an hour before each visit time, wondering if anyone is coming to see them."
Visitors are permitted only at prescribed times of the day. At the entry to the compound, signs scream warnings. 'All visitors are subject to a metal detector.' 'Visitors can be thoroughly searched.' After each visitor has entered, a security guard bolts and padlocks the double gates. After signing in, visitors pass through two heavy security doors and yet another padlocked gate before reaching the visitors' area.
Many detainees do not know anyone in Australia, which means they do not have any contact with the outside world. The Bahbiris were lucky to have made friends at school and in the Afghan community. 'It's really important to have visitors in order to get through it,' Mariam says. 'You feel better just talking to someone from outside and knowing that someone is coming to visit you and support you.'
Anne Steyne, an English language teacher at the high school that Mariam, Amahl and Hamid now attend, visited the family whenever she could.
"I took them a lot of school books and things to do. I tried to support them emotionally and let them know that people outside that place cared for them,' she says. "The children were alone, which is a terrible thing. It's shocking to put children in a situation like that."
As Mariam explains, the situation was extremely difficult for the four children to deal with alone. "You would see people getting crazy - hitting their heads against the wall. You could hear it in your rooms if someone was screaming or crying. It was terrible to see other people upset because you felt exactly the same," she says.
Hamid grew noticeably quiet during the period of detention. Although his brothers and sisters had found friends, there was no one Hamid's age. He spent his days alone, reading books and retreating further within himself. "There is nobody my size," he would lament. Nine-year-old Zia wore her school jumper throughout their time in detention. She was extremely confused as to why they had suddenly been taken away from their new life. "She was really sad because she lost her friends and wanted to go back to school," says Mariam.
She says the education and English-language programs available in the detention centre are inadequate for young people like Mariam and her brothers and sister, whose English is nearly perfect. Only beginner's English is offered and the old and the young are grouped together in lessons.
"I have a letter from the Immigration Department, telling me not to worry about the Bahbiris in detention because they have the opportunity to get a good education, but it's all a lie," says Anne Steyne.
The cleanliness of the detention centre was also not up to standard. "It's not clean, itís very yucky and old. The beds are really bad - they go down in the middle and we had to put the door from the cupboard under the mattress," Mariam says. "The rooms are very small, so we would get crazy if we stayed in there too long."
The Bahbiris were released on August 10, after 56 days in the detention centre. They were given a three-year 'Temporary Protection Visa'. However, the situation in Afghanistan means that families like the Bahbiris are likely to remain in Australia on a permanent basis. Mariam says that they were surprised but ecstatic when they were told they would be getting out that afternoon. "I couldn't get the smile off my face," she says.
Mariam's warm brown eyes and smiling face show how happy she is now. She can go to school, she has lots of new friends, and she has a freedom that she has never experienced before.
"I enjoy every second of my life. I want to do everything and try everything because I know now that you have got just one life," she says
