For more than two decades, Australia has locked up people who arrive here fleeing persecution - sometimes briefly, sometimes for years. In They Cannot Take the Sky those people tell their stories, in their own words. Speaking from inside immigration detention on Manus Island and Nauru, or from within the Australian community after their release, the narrators reveal not only their extraordinary journeys and their daily struggles but also their meditations on love, death, hope and injustice. Their candid testimonies are at times shocking and hilarious, surprising and devastating. They are witnesses from the edge of human experience.
The first-person narratives in They Cannot Take the Sky range from epic life stories to heartbreaking vignettes. The narrators who have shared their stories have done so despite the culture of silence surrounding immigration detention, and the real risks faced by those who speak out. Once you have heard their voices, you will never forget them.
'This book is extraordinary and humbling and necessary.' Anna Funder
'These are the stories you will read and never forget. All Australians must read this book.' Alexis Wright
'We have waited too long for an anthology like this. Deftly drawn, wide-ranging, and painstakingly edited and collected, these engaging stories from immigration detention are desperate and passionate; harrowing and inspirational; beautiful and forlorn.' Maxine Beneba Clarke
'This is a book whose human, frank, illuminating voices the government does not want to hear from.' Tom Keneally
They Cannot Take the Sky: Stories from Detention (Behind the Wire, Allen & Unwin Books 2017) is an important and necessary book that should be required reading. These stories, compiled by editors Michael Green and Andre Dao, are first-person accounts of life in detention by refugees from countries including Afghanistan, Iran, Pakistan, several countries in Africa and many more. Their stories are heart-felt and heart-breaking. The narrators tell their stories with humour and grace, with pain and anguish, with generosity and compassion. These people have fled almost unimaginable circumstances in their countries of origin: abuse and persecution, discrimination and torture, imprisonment and hate. But they have ‘escaped’ to something even more horrific, the incomprehensible, unethical and punitive confines of immigration detention centres here in our own backyard. It is difficult to fully understand the horrors they have left – how to relate to cultures and military rule that are so different to our own? But what is even worse is that when they come to our country seeking haven, risking their lives in the process, our country locks them up and treats them like criminals, often with no explanation, no access to legal or psychological assistance, and no timeline guides as to when their cases might be heard. This is a book about a system that is failing. A system that has already failed thousands of people. A system that every Australian should see clearly with fresh eyes and demand of our political leaders that it be changed. The men, women and children – yes, children – who tell these stories are different from us only in that they were born in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could so easily be me – or you – on the other side of that wire. Some of the stories are of the environment of the detention centres themselves, on Manus Island and Nauru, on Christmas Island, and from centres on the Australian mainland. Others tell of their life within the Australian community since their release – never easy, and always tainted by the negative implications of being locked up, sometimes for years, not for a crime, but simply because they were desperate enough to attempt to escape to make a better life for themselves and their families. I often ponder just how truly desperate someone must be in order to leave behind everything that is familiar, and risk their life in a dangerous situation, on an ill-equipped boat, for example, and put their trust into the hands of strangers. As Neda says in the book: ‘…I think nobody wants to leave their country. Nobody wants to leave their culture, their family. When I came to Australia I almost lost everything. I lost my family, I lost my language, I lost my culture. I lost the land where I was born.’ The inhumane way we treat these broken, damaged individuals, who have demonstrated resilience and strength and determination, is nothing short of atrocious. We should be ashamed. Ashamed of our policies and ashamed of our actions. This is a book about suffering and grief, about hope and forgiveness. It depicts the enormous capacity for human beings to survive. It illustrates people with extraordinary compassion, who devote themselves to helping others because they themselves were once helped, or because they are now in a better situation. And it is a book about silence – about those who try to silence others, and about those who refuse to be silenced, but instead find their voices and speak. The truth is painful to hear. These stories are uncomfortable. But the more people who listen and who – in turn – spread the word about the circumstances and conditions of detention, the more chance we have of challenging the system. Every single one of the narrators in this book is someone with hopes and dreams, fears and struggles; he was once a child with ambition, or a young girl in love; each person – however different through language and culture and religion – each wants the same thing: to be free. Most of us take our freedom for granted. This is an eye-opening book that forces us to rethink that freedom, and to demand it for all human beings who arrive on our shores searching for hope and refuge.
‘The sky is like a friend for a prisoner, because around you everything is metal fences, but the sky, they cannot take the sky.’
Since 1 September 1994, when the Migration Reform Act 1992 came into operation, Australia has had mandatory detention of people classed as ‘unlawful arrivals’. Many of those ‘unlawful arrivals’ are people seeking asylum. Mandatory detention was originally intended as an interim measure. It still exists. Can a period of mandatory detention be justified? Yes. In certain circumstances, and while health and security checks are carried out. Can indefinite mandatory detention be justified? I don’t think so. But many of us can ignore the consequences of mandatory detention: the people are mostly detained out of sight, many are offshore, they are out of our minds. They are anonymous, often, characterised as ‘queue jumpers’ or as ‘economic refugees’. It’s easy to ‘other’ these people, to speak of ‘us’ and ‘them’.
That’s where a book like this becomes important. As Christos Tsiolkas writes in the foreword:
‘We read for pleasure and we read for knowledge. And there are some books we read because we must, for in not reading them we are in danger of not understanding our world and our own place in the world.’
In this book, we read the experiences of people who’ve been detained. Sometimes for brief periods, sometimes for years. Working with the editors, sometimes through translators, here are the stories of some of the people who’ve been on Christmas Island, on Manus Island or Nauru. Some are in Australia now; others are still in detention.
‘Do we have time? I mean, because when I keep talking I’m not feeling the time. This is a true story. Truth takes time.’
It would be difficult to read these accounts and not be moved. The individuals have different circumstances, different experiences. But each of them has struggled. Each of them was fleeing from a dangerous, intolerable or uncertain situation, hoping for a better future.
‘It’s like you’re running from elephants, but you’re running into a lion.’
This book raises so many questions for me. How should the Australian Government manage mandatory detention? For how long can indefinite detention be ‘justified’? Given that both major political parties are in favour of mandatory detention, what hope is there for change? And do the majority of Australians want to see the policy changed?
Read this book, these accounts from more than twenty people from countries including Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq, Somalia and Sri Lanka. And think about what indefinite mandatory detention says about us.
‘We stayed, just thinking, and nothing else. We are not dreaming. We just came to the realisation that we had lost our future.’
I really honestly do not know what to say about this book. One refugee talks about human rights and that there are no human rights. I think that about sums up this book.
This is one of the more important books I have read on Australia's current immigration and detention policies - stories and words from those actually living it, and being impacted by it. It's not something that's been collected or available before - hearing from people currently in detention in various centres around Australia, those recently or long ago released, and those imprisoned in an offshore hell. The real impact of what our nation is doing to people - and the stories that led them to need to seek safety - and the damage the treatment they have experienced from Australia is having.
I found this book to be profoundly moving. I have always been sympathetic towards the plight of refugees, but reading about the way that they are treated by the Australian government broke my heart. While not flawless, some of these stories are beautifully told. I feel compelled now, more than ever, to do something to help these people. A book by a person of colour, a book with multiple authors, a book involving travel, a book that's published in 2017, a book where the main character is a different ethnicity than you, a book recommended by an author you love, a book about an immigrant or refugee, a book about a difficult topic.
It's genuinely frustrating reading books about how appallingly we're treating refugees. It feels like screaming into the void, watching anger be swallowed up by apathy. I doubt anybody who needs to read this book will. Yet at the same time, it's important to document how despicably we've acted towards our fellow humans, the politicisation of human misery, the lack of empathy and compassion. Hopefully one day, future generations can get lessons from this book that we seem incapable of learning. And hopefully hope and freedom will come soon to those trapped by our inhumanity.
Incredibly brave to gather these stories. Deeply moving and sad in many ways. A sad indictment on our nations response to refugees. Worth the read to hear stories from detention centres of the people who are suffering for no other reason than thinking we would give them freedom from persecution and opportunity. Powerful read!
Powerful, important, heartbreaking. I listened to the audio book- it's really well done. I am so glad these stories are finally being told. They need to be told, and they need to be heard.