No ʻBravoʼ … Australia!

19 July 2013

ʻThey told us to go to the front gates; they told us that we will be safe thereʼ.

It is a year since Australiaʼs Regional Processing Centre burnt to the ground, yet the haunting nightmare of that evening has far from faded from the minds of asylum seekers left there, stranded in Nauru.

Breezing past us in the morning tabloids a year ago were the Nauru riots, where on the small Pacific Island nation over a hundred men were rounded up and imprisoned, later to be released on bail to the torture of indefinite detention and unjust legal proceedings.

After weeks of unexplained incarceration the men were alphabetically released on bail from Nauruʼs jail, into another type of jail that the Australian authorities ironically named Bravo.

Upon release, facial hair could not hide the blank expressions of the men who arrived to a hot tent and stretcher bed, wearing dirty clothing, unchanged from the night of the fires.

With them they had no possessions. All of these had been either lost in the fires, stolen, or never returned by Australian and Nauruan authorities. There were cases of very personal and essential
items, which were handed directly to authorities, never being returned, despite several requests submitted.

The impact of losing these items would soon fade into insignificance, as their unlawful and undignified treatment had merely just begun.

Bewildered by their incarceration and terrified by their persecutors to speak out against their charges, these men were criminalized, with guilty-before-proven-innocent the seeming offshore detention law, of its own making.

It is here in Bravo that for a year the detainees, or transferees as Australiaʼs Department of Border Protection prefers, have remained incarcerated in cramped conditions, and helpless to their mental
torturers – the Australian Government.

Following the July 19 Riots in Nauru, the story you may have heard is that asylum seekers rioted and burnt down the centre … that is, everything besides the newly-constructed recreational centre, and old staff eating mess.

This is perhaps one simplistic portrayal of the event. The truth, however, is still to be known and externally investigated without prejudice or bias. The truth, as I have heard it, most likely includes some of the grossest abuses of justice and of our failure to protect vulnerable persons, who remain hidden by Australiaʼs offshore processing regime in Nauru, a four-and-a-half hour flight away from Australia.

The investigation following the riots was primarily conducted by the security company contracted by Australia. This same company was responsible for the protection of asylum seekers on the night of the riots, and continue to operate in Nauru today.

Conflict of interest is merely one problem from this fickle investigation, as mental health and case workers listened to and reported on several stories of non-involvement from those incarcerated.

Despite advocating for those detained on charges, the investigation lacked impartiality and justice.

At the gates of the ʻProcessing Centreʼ on July the 19th, where asylum seekers were directed to go, many innocent victims of a terrifying fire found themselves confronted by the authorities of the Nauruan Police. Here they were arrested, allegedly beaten and stripped down, whilst a gathering of local Nauruan men, called to defend their nation via a Government text message, stood on, some allegedly intoxicated and wielding weapons.

According to this account, the Australian security company stood nearby, watching the drama unfold outside of the gates, perhaps powerless and subjugate to the Nauruan authorities who had taken charge there.

One of the many victims, who was wrongfully imprisoned, before being released on bail over two weeks following his imprisonment into Bravo, and further kept there for months with no understanding of the charges laid against him, shared his story of the chaos on the night …

He describes how the Australian security guard was crying, helplessly watching him as he was beaten up by a Nauruan authority, before being ordered onto a bus and driven to prison.

Who is seeking justice for these people then, who were wrongly imprisoned, assaulted, and for those who remain still in the Bravo camp today?

In March this year, a Bravo detainee talked about his grave fear of their situation, explaining that they (Bravo detainees) had not seen or spoken to a lawyer in five months, and did not know what was going to happen to them. Recently two people have been sentenced to jail terms in Nauru, thus diminishing further any hope of one day coming to Australia and living a life that is free from the threat of torture and persecution.

Back in Bravo camp hope loses a foothold on the future under the sweltering heat of tents, where time is passed sleeping or playing cards within the cramped conditions, offering no personal privacy.

The detainees ask the question as to whether or not we would treat our pets, as they are being kept.

The identities of these engineers, painters, fathers, grandfathers, sons, brothers, husbands, IT experts, shopkeepers, biologists, accountants, mechanics, and teachers, amongst others, are difficult to maintain as day by day their boat ID numbers and Bravo status attempts to suffocate memories of who they are. Their mental anguish is compounded by the despair of others; isolation; and limited access to communicate with the outside world.

Life here is a brittle battle, such that if Bravoʼs one hour of internet time is cancelled for the week, a family is left wondering what happened to their father, whilst their father remains helpless, fighting away suicidal thoughts and absolute despair.

Under Australiaʼs directive, this bail prison of mandatory detention and unlawful arrest violates numerous human rights, cumulatively inflicting serious psychological harm on the individualʼs there.

Whilst these people are kept there, where are the charges against Australian authorities who were supposed to protect them? Why did the security company conduct the interviews, and why didnʼt
they interview everyone? Most of the people in Bravo were not given an opportunity to be formally interviewed, and many remain there, stuck in Nauru, with no justice visible, and no option to return home.

The international organisation of migration (IOM) has advised those detained in Bravo that until charges are cleared, no-one will be able to voluntarily return home. For many, this is not possible in any case with the dangers they have fled unchanged, or the stateless identification they bare, such as for Palestinians, meaning that they have no place to be returned to.

Why hasnʼt an independent investigation been demanded into Australiaʼs responsibility for $60 million dollars worth of losses, and the near death of so many people, whom we were responsible to protect?

Why canʼt we protect these asylum seekers we are mandated to protect under the Refugee Convention?

Access to enter Nauru to document what is happening today is made ever more challenging with journalist visa fees jumping from $200 to $8000 earlier this year.

Is the Australian immigration policy then – which involuntarily relocates people to remote Manus Island or Nauru to ʻbe processedʼ in unsafe and harsh offshore processing prisons, not a type of
refoulement – ʻforced return homeʼ and torture?

With no apparent justice for these people, this would seem the case.

No Bravo for this policy and inhumane practice Australia.

We must demand an independent inquiry into what is happening and what has happened in Bravo.

It is a year since Australiaʼs regional processing centre on Nauru burnt to the ground.

The lives of vulnerable men, women and children are in limbo. We must embrace support for people seeking safety and protection.

‘These People’ are asylum seekers from impoverished, under-resourced and corrupt lands.

Georgi Marshall, Witness to Australiaʼs Offshore Processing Regime: She worked with adult male asylum seekers with The Salvation Army in roles as educator and case worker for more than a year pre- and post-9 July Riots 2013, including welfare support for asylum seekers released on bail to Bravo camp.