BESHNAW
"Listen." So starts the magnum opus of the great 12th Century Sunni Islamic Scholar and Sufi Jalaluddin Rumi, the Mathnawi.
بشنو از نی چون حکایت می کند
از جدایی ها شکایت می کند
کز نیستان تا مـرا بـبـریـده اند
در نفیرم مرد و زن نالیده اند
سینه خواهم شرحه شرحه از فراق
تا بگـویم شـرح درد اشـتـیـاق
هر کسی کو دور ماند از اصل خویش
بازجوید روزگار وصل خویش
"Listen to the reed (flute), how it is complaining!
It is telling about separations,
"Ever since I was severed from the reed field, men
and women have lamented in my shrill cries.
I want a heart torn, torn from separation, so that
I may explain the pain of yearning.
Every one who is sundered far from his origin,
longs to recapture the time when he was united with it."
- Song of the Reed, Mathnawi Book 1
The reverberation of those ontological cries of separation and yearning (Rumi was describing separation from the Divine ultimately) manifests itself in a very powerful way in the human experience. And few experiences encompass this emotion more than that of refugees and migrants.
Research indicates that 89% of humanitarian migrants have experienced traumatic events - persecution, war, witnessing death, starvation, and a number of other unspeakable horrors prior to settlement. In reality the percentage should be 100, as separation from homeland is a seismic psychological event in and of itself. For a lot of refugees starting new lives and raising their children in a foreign land, they will often re-experience that trauma of separation of homeland through their children as they start to forgo many of the aspects of their parents culture, values, language and the things they hold dear.
The children often find themselves caught between two worlds, that of their parents and that of their adopted new land. Whether first or second generation, the intergenerational trauma manifests itself in the lives of these children of war as they seek to form their identities.
This environmental portrait series aims to see how refugees and migrants living in Western Sydney navigate between these worlds and attempt to keep in touch with their ancestral roots in new beginnings.
This project is ongoing.*
Sitting on a picnic table by Parramatta River in Western Sydney after school, Somia and Sharara, recently arrived humanitarian entrants from Afghanistan, celebrate Zainab and Nasreen’s (twins also from Afghanistan) birthday. Little moments and picnics (Mela) like this are the norm in Afghanistan and Afghan culture, especially around nature, where friends and family come together to connect and share. This familiarity and connection is especially important for those experiencing settlement in new lands.
For young Afghan diaspora girls who find themselves in a new world and home, these have taken on more significance, as recent socio-political turmoil in Afghanistan has seen access to public life, education, economic participation and other rights gradually eroded for women and girls.
The weight of what seems like the world on his shoulders, Acuoth rests outside Circa Espresso in Parramatta, Sydney. Acuoth works 3 full-time jobs, a community worker by day, NDIS support worker by night and a gig economy driver inbetween. In keeping with his South Sudanese roots, Acuoth financially supports his family back home in South Sudan, as well as interstate in Australia and in Sydney. Coupled with the pressure to save an exponential amount of money for a dowry for marriage as is the custom in South Sudan, all of this weighs heavy on even the giant shoulders of a lot of South Sudanese men in Australia.
Kyisoe Han shoots outside of Lidcombe Oval while on assignment for Western Sydney University. Falling through the cracks and experiencing homelessness during his initial years of settlement, Kyisoe arrived in Australia on an orphan visa from Myanmar. With assistance from some settlement service providers, and his sheer resilience and determination, Kyisoe has established himself as a freelance photographer, who seeks to make a life for himself while continuing to support his family overseas.
Arezo translates to dreams/wishes in the Dari language. Developed in collaboration and consultation with young refugee Afghan women and girls, the Football United Arezo program co-facilitated by Asma (right) is aptly named, as it seeks to help recently arrived young Afghan girls and women follow their hopes and dreams through sport. The program runs from the Granville Community Centre, an area central to many of the Afghan diaspora who live in the surrounding suburbs.
Posing for a portrait before going in to record a podcast at Open Studio in Mt Druitt in Western Sydney is doctoral student, refugee advocate, founder of Anyier Model Management & Miss Sahara Beauty Pageant, and Partnerships/Capacity Building Coordinator with Creating Chances, the resilient Dinka woman Anyier Yuol. Anyier focuses on challenging the prevalent standards of beauty and fashion in Australia to empower African women by encouraging them to explore and represent their roots and heritage.
Jay, an Afghan with roots from the south-east of the country in the province of Laghman, stands for a portrait after Eid Al Adha prayers in the Ottoman inspired Gallipoli Mosque, Auburn NSW. The child of Afghan refugees as a result of the Soviet invasion in the 80s, Jay is a former kickboxer turned trainer to many aspiring champions. A profession no doubt influenced by the warrior blood of his people.
Afghan migration to Australia has come in 5 waves, from the initial arrival of Afghan cameleers who were essential in opening up the centre of Australia for the British colonisers in 1800s; to arrivals spurred by the Soviet Invasion of Afghanistan in the 80s; refugees from the Afghan civil war in the 90s and the coming to power of the Taliban, the US led invasion in the 2000s and now re-gaining of power by the Taliban in 2021. Each wave tells a different historical tale, but all speak to the resilience and warrior spirit of a people marred by war and the grandeurs of empire.
A young Dinka boy stands proud during pre-fight histrionics at Blacktown International Sports Park in Western Sydney. South Sudanese wrestling is a traditional sport in South Sudan and has kicked off among the diaspora in Australia, with state teams formed to compete against one another in regular meets throughout the year. The tournaments see participants and spectators alike transported to South Sudan itself in a spectacular display of song, dance, music and colour.
Nilofar Saqeqi stretches before a training session at Mona Park, Auburn for the Sydney United Girls team in the lead up to the Australian Afghan National Football tournament, an annual competition that brings together the Afghan diaspora across Australia to compete across three days in what is a celebration of culture, heritage and sport. Sydney United Girls was born out of a need to provide Afghan girls and young women the opportunity to play football in a religiously and culturally appropriate space, and Nilofar has been a driving factor in the growth of the team.
Tahir from Maidan Wardak in central Afghanistan, arrived in Australia in 2014. His friendly smile and demeanour is a constant presence at perhaps the most popular Afghan establishment in Sydney, Kabul House, where he has been working since he arrived. The restaurant is an institution in Merrylands, which is fast becoming the unofficial Afghan capitol of Western Sydney. Wizzing between tables, juggling multiple orders and managing the expectations of Afghan patrons and non-Afghan is a tall task, but Tahir loves bringing the aromas and flavours of back home to Australian shores.
Ash and Mahek Rana, sisters from India, come to Harris Park during Diwali to partake in the festivities like many from the Indian diaspora in Sydney. Harris Park is known by Western Sydney siders as ‘Little India,’ littered by Indian sweet shops, restaurants, street food, cafes, clothing shops and schools.
“Why do you guys come to Harris Park?”
“More people come here now, it’s far less taboo. People come for the food and the celebrations. We pray and we eat good food. It’s like Eid. It’s just a day to be happy, and to think about new beginnings. Basically, it’s like Indian New Year’s,” says Mahek.
From Myanmar to Afghanistan, refugee young people hike at Lockleys Pylon in Blue Mountains National Park. The ‘Hike More’ program encourages refugee youth to explore the Australian bush to learn life-skills, connect with other refugee youth with similar experiences in cross cultural exchange and learn more about Australia’s First Nations people and their connection to country.
Muslim prisons chaplain Haloum (left) has his ritual Sunday morning coffee catch up that serves as a space to decompress for him in Strathfield, Sydney with his friend Karim. Haloum is the son of Lebanese refugees from Lebanon’s brutal civil war that spanned from 1975 to 1990, and saw over 1 million civilians flee the country. The difficulty of settlement and the resultant intergenerational conflict and trauma experienced by young Lebanese men has seen them overrepresented in prison populations with some caught up in criminal activity. Haloum seeks to guide the men he deals with through the teachings of the Islamic tradition in a language they can relate to.
An elderly Indian man, who came to Australia only 3 months ago from Delhi to live with his daughter and grandchildren, sits in the driveway of the unit block in Harris Park he lives in to get some sun. Many Indian immigrants are professionals who go on to sponsor their parents to come to Australia. The grandparents contribute to the fabric of the community and family by picking up and dropping off children to school, going to local shops and playing with them at the local parks in Harris Park, as their sons and daughters go to work.
Alhassan holds a bag of perfume he’s delivering to a customer in Lidcombe, Sydney. Originally from the West African nation of Guinea, Alhassan follows in the Parisian tradition of street perfume deals, where young men predominately from West and North Africa deal perfumes in the streets of Paris that mimic the scents of popular houses like Maison Francis Kurkdjian and Chanel. The entrepreneurial drive of those with migrant and refugee backgrounds are often brought about by the hardships, the trial by fire they have faced to arrive in their adopted new homes.