Content warning: Discussions of suicide
On 26 July 2013, I was with my classmates on my way home from my English language class. Suddenly, two bomb explosions occurred, one in the market and the other in the neighboring bazaar. I was just walking around the market (which was just 20 meters away from me) and going back to my village to the main town to catch a bus. The second blast almost hit me. Fortunately, I was behind a bus that saved me with just minor injuries, but I lost one of my most cherished classmates.
I was just fifteen years old when I was forced to run for my life. I dreamed of seeking a better education in Australia and becoming a pilot. Instead, I became a refugee in Indonesia, which does not recognize my existence and basic rights. I am even refused an education in this country. I have been in limbo for the last eight years. I lost my innocence, my dream and my hope for the future. Only because I am seeking safety from being bombed in Pakistan by the Taliban.
I was born in a small village in Pakistan. As a child, I grew up happily and had no knowledge of the hatred and bigotry that bear Sunni against Shia. In fact, I had a lot of Sunni friends, and we coexisted. We used to play and celebrate wedding parties together, shared food with each other, especially on the day of Eid. But things quickly began to shift when the Taliban started arriving in my city. In 2007, many armed groups (Taliban) came to my city. The government did not do anything while they were travelling through, nor did anyone stop them as they claimed to be Islamic pilgrims and said they had come to teach Islam to Sunni people. In reality, they were spreading hatred against Shia people.
My village has a small population and is closely connected to one of the largest Sunni villages, Bushahara, in the south eastern part of Pakistan. We were surrounded from every angle, which made it nearly impossible for us to escape with our lives. Taliban would come to threaten us to leave the village with the warning that if we did not, they would bomb us. But we refused to leave as we had nowhere else to go. Then they began attacking our village. Many of the villagers were killed.
On Rabi ul Awal day, the gunman fired on a Friday prayer held by Shia in Parachinar, leaving more 40 dead and 150 wounded Shia people. This event created a heavy war, which spread out to most Pakistan cities. Some allege that the government took part in killing the Shia Muslims as there were bomb blasts everywhere, killing dozens of people including children and women every day. Still, the government took no action against the Mujahideen groups. Most of the Shia people were slaughtered by Sunni armed groups all along the way from Peshawar to Parachinar.
My family then wanted to send me away from my country to find safety and stability in another country. They called a smuggler and he asked for a five thousand dollars. My mother had to sell her dowries and my father’s heritage land and also borrowed some of my relatives' money to meet the smuggler's demand.
In 2013, I boarded flights from Dubai towards Thailand and crossed the border to Malaysia. I then crossed by boat into Indonesia. Unfortunately, I could not make it to my destination, Australia. As I was making my way down through Sumatra, I was arrested on the bus on the way to Jakarta in Bandar Lampung by police.
'As soon as I landed there, I cried, why have I been put in detention? Was my previous suffering not enough?'
I'd heard that Australian were kind and compassionate towards refugees. They were offering new lives to refugees like myself, but my expectations turned when I finally discovered the truth. In 2018, I was introduced to a documentary called Freedom Street. I featured as one of the stars. This was the first documentary that fully explores Australia’s long history of externalising its border protection policies towards Indonesia and beyond. I learned from the experts that I was arrested and detained in Indonesia because of Australia’s region deterrent policies.
Like in Manus (PNG) and Nauru, where formerly thousands of refugees and asylum seekers are detained illegally, Australia has created a similar situation for us in Indonesia. Since 2013, around 14000 refugees have been trapped in Indonesia as Australia stopped the refugees coming by boat, while the remaining arrivals would be transferred to confinement in Manus and Nauru detention centers. Australia has employed police and intelligence and funded the detention center to arrest and detain us before we take a boat to Australia.
Even though I was a child, I was detained for nearly three years in Indonesia. The police took away my passport and money, bags and my mobile phone; they locked me up for a full seven months in a hotel room. I was locked up for 24 hours a day, unknown to anyone outside the prison’s walls. I could contact no-one, not even my family. I would have suicided if the Bangladeshi immigrants who were in the cell with me had not stopped me.
I was then transferred to Manado detention. This is a large center, a real immigrant detention center with many refugees from different countries. As soon as I landed there, I cried, why have I been put in detention? Was my previous suffering not enough? This time, I was totally broken-hearted and wanted to give up on life. As I was walking into this prison through five gates one after the other, I felt I would rather die than live in this hell. I began to experience severe mental illness and lost control of my suffering. Again, I tried to commit suicide but was saved by some Pakistani refugees. They finally transferred me to IOM accommodation in Makassar in 2015.
This is where I have now been trapped in an open prison for the past six years in a shared room. The restrictions imposed by the authorities on us have made my life almost impossible to live like human beings. I cannot leave this city nor visit my friend in another city. I cannot even stay over with my friends if I want to spend some time with them. I want to study and graduate from high school and university, but no school accepts me as a refugee. Even for love, I am not allowed to conduct any relationship with locals. These are all punishable with prison for months or even years in immigration detention.
Indonesia didn’t sign the UN 1951 refugee convention and its protocol. But it does not mean we should be treated as if we are from a different planet. We should have all our basic rights, including any kind of local integration. In 2016, after living in Indonesia for more than a decade, President Jokowi made a decree only to recognise that we exist in Indonesia but did not give any recognition to our humanity and human rights. Besides healthcare and other cares such as residency or citizenship, we are even not issued a license to drive vehicles and the transportation costs are deducted from the small allowance that hardly allows us to eat nutritious foods.
Suffering from the uncertainty of my future, I have waited for a change in Australia refugee’s policy to be resettled through UNHCR. Since 2013, three elections have been cast and three prime ministers have changed. To my worsening fate, Scott Morrison said in 2014 added that no refugees from Indonesia would be resettled from then on. This has taken away all hope of resettlement to Australia. On the other hand, UNHCR said resettlement to another third country can take twenty-five years if it ever happens. The outbreak of COVID-19 has slimmed this chance even more as most countries have closed their borders for refugees in Indonesia as Indonesia has been unable to control the spread of COVID-19. This has added more pressure to my already existing mental illness.
I tried my best to spend my days reading and studying online but as I lack basic education, it is difficult for me to even do self-directed study. So, I sleep throughout the day and wake in the late evening and spend the nights watching movies and chatting with friends. I hardly feel motivated to go out and hang out with friends. I spend most of my days behind the closed door.
JN Joniad is a refugee Journalist based in Jakarta who publishes on account of refugees stranded in Indonesia.
Ashfaq is young Pakistani refugee who has been trapped in limbo for eight years.
Main image: Ashfaq in Indonesia (Supplied)