I'm writing these lines while I still struggle to comprehend what Australian freedom looks like.
I was permitted to live in a society on a community detention visa two months ago. As a result, my body is experiencing more freedom. However, my spirit is still entirely swamped in the startle. It is unbelievable that I don't have to live under the gaze of the guards anymore.
I strive to find my answer to why I still do not get enough oxygen, have shortness of breath, and still, inhaling and exhaling is too hard? The unanswered questions parade in my mind. Why should I always be punished? Does justice exist at all?
I realized that it was midnight, and I woke up terrified with an appalling heart palpitation as I thought it was the officers' time for censusing. It seems I am carrying endless anxiety about whether someone invades my room again, or aims to force me for a pat search.
I'm free from the tents, the harassment, and the persecution of the closed camps but my library is chained by state surveillance. I am like a marionette. The strings of my life are attached to the controller's hands. Those who operate my chains pull them tightly, and don’t allow me to work, study, travel, or stay out after 10pm. Likewise, my friends are not permitted to stay at my home.
If my home's wall accidentally gets stained or scratched, I have to compensate with my little salary.
We deserved to receive only the chopped fruits and foods, however, in response to my series of complaints to reject accepting the chopped food or fruits, the officer said they give us chopped fruit and plastic knives, spoons, forks and plates for our safety. What an insidious deception excuse!
For almost nine years, they treated us like servitude under the name of protection.
I am anxious outside too. Everything and everyone is strange to me, and I'm odd to people. I don't even know how to use a bank card to pay for shopping. The cashier gazed at me as humiliative as the officers. But can he even imagine that I was a prisoner for almost nine years without any trials and compensation?
I'm writing these lines to all people who are awake and writing. Those whose insomnia is inflicted by injustice.