As
a Child on Nauru #1/9
As
a Child on Nauru I was NR03-283, but my name is Mohammad Ali Baqiri.
As a Child on Nauru I was NR03-283, but my name is
Mohammad Ali Baqiri.
As a child I have to pronounce those letters and
numbers
like a playground that hurt my dreams
With cruelty games at the detention centre.
Now I am 24, I ask please, to reality bring back to
us the stolen humanity
On the mist of so much injustice
I heard a howl as a torment of dust;
You NR03-283.
The guard said to the child!!!
In Ali words’ I’ve experienced it first hand and
it’s affects
in my way I
can’t yet explain.
I saw detention push the adults around me to the
brink of hopelessness.
I witnessed self-harm and suicide attempts
No one should have to go through that.
I was NR03-283, but my name is Mohammah Ali Baqiri.
My home was walls without windows to play with the
moon
Or to counting the stars as a wish to be free; even
just in my dream.
As a child my town was walls with garden without
birds,
animals to call
my friend or walk with them.
As a child the school to attend to learn English,
Was a room of
shadows of body-guards
Even they weren’t interested to talk to me
They were grudgingly teachers.
As a Child on Nauru I was NR03-283, but my name is
Mohammad Ali Baqiri
A heart-breaking poem documenting the cruelty of Australian governments.
ReplyDeleteyes. thanks. it is a poem to be read.
ReplyDeleteCruelty institutionalised by those who most cruel, the hollow crusader.
ReplyDelete