This Refugee Week, many asylum seekers and refugees are struggling to survive the COVID-19 pandemic. Some are trapped in immigration detention centres across the country in cramped and overcrowded conditions that make physical distancing impossible. Others are living in our community on temporary visas or no visas at all, struggling to make ends meet.
Despite what we’re told, we’re not ‘all in this together’. But we know that the effectiveness of our response to the COVID-19 pandemic depends on all of us doing our part to flatten the curve. So when we leave out some, we inevitably endanger the health of everyone.
There are over 1300 people locked in immigration detention facilities across the country. They sleep in dorm rooms with bunk beds, queue for breakfast, lunch and dinner then eat side-by-side in crowded canteens. They share toilets and showers and are forced to ration limited supplies of soap and hand sanitiser. Physical distancing and self-isolation are an impossibility. Inside detention the rules are different. And they are dangerous.
Many of those who are detained have health conditions that place them at high risk of severe complications from COVID-19.
Abdul* has Type 1 diabetes and hypertension. He is scared that after fleeing persecution from a Middle Eastern country as a refugee he will contract the virus in an Australian detention centre. ‘I am very worried,’ he says. ‘I’m not going to the communal areas because of the crowd and many people, to be honest, as I’m scared of getting exposed.’
The message from people in detention is loud and clear: ‘We are not safe in this place’.
'This is not about challenging the immigration system. This is a public health emergency and at the forefront of our response must be the basic principle that the health of one affects the health of all.'
It’s a view shared by medical experts. The Australasian Society for Infectious Diseases and the Australian College of Infection Prevention and Control — along with over 1100 medical professionals — have consistently advised the government that immigration detention centres are high-risk environments for COVID-19 which places people at greater risk of infection and possible death.
Inevitably this also risks placing a greater burden on the health system and the wider community.
It is not hard to imagine the consequences of a COVID-19 breakout in one or more detention centres. Think of the cruiseliner Ruby Princess. Think of the cases in nursing homes. Think of just how much careful consideration is going into the phased reduction of isolation measures. Australia has managed the crisis well so far. We do not need an explosive cluster in a high-risk detention centre. The impact would ricochet far beyond its confines.
But it’s not just people in detention who are suffering.
In the community, many people on temporary visas, bridging visas or no visas at all are struggling to survive. Without access to Medicare, they face significant barriers in getting tested and treated. Many cannot afford to see a doctor, compromising their overall health and increasing the risk of an outbreak.
For these women and men and their children, there is no safety net. They are denied access to the JobSeeker or JobKeeper schemes. Many have lost their jobs and only income due to COVID-19. The situation is becoming more desperate by the day as many people face the prospect of destitution.
Nazim* has been on a bridging visa for over three years. He worked as a barista in a local café, but lost his job in March when the café was forced to close. ‘Being in this limbo — waiting, uncertainty — we are used to this. I thought I am strong enough to handle this, but actually I am not’ he says. ‘The community really feel for us. They are helping us. It is heartbreaking to not see that support from the government. This is our home. I cannot go anywhere else. It’s hard to see that we have been left behind’.
And people like Nazim face the added challenge of attempting to simultaneously navigate a complex immigration system. Something made all the more difficult without healthcare or a basic income.
In an environment in which our individual health is dependent on our collective health, we cannot afford to leave anyone behind. Even now, as the numbers of new cases fluctuates across the country, we are told that we cannot return to business as usual and there remains the very real risk of new clusters of infections. So why is there a blindspot when it comes to temporary visa holders?
Globally, there has been a paradigm shift in the way that we live and work. Governments are responding accordingly with paradigm shifts in policy — Australia included. And underpinning this policy is the principle of shared responsibility.
Yet there is a stark exception. A categorical failure to meet the needs of all people. The result is an inequitable response that excludes some of the most vulnerable, putting not only them but our whole community at grave risk. The virus does not discriminate, so we cannot afford to discriminate in our response.
This is not about challenging the immigration system. This is a public health emergency and at the forefront of our response must be the basic principle that the health of one affects the health of all.
There are clear steps that must be taken. Release the women and men in immigration detention into safer accommodation. Provide universal access to medical treatment and Medicare. Apply the COVID-19 financial safety net, regardless of visa status. Protect rights through fairness and flexibility in the immigration system to ensure that no-one is disadvantaged due to the impact of COVID-19.
It is only by taking these steps that we can truly say: we’re all in this together.
David Manne is Executive Director and Principal Solicitor of Refugee Legal. Laura John is a Solicitor at Refugee Legal.
*names have been changed to protect identity
Main image: Woman sitting on couch with head leaning on crossed arms (bymuratdeniz/Getty images)