[p?c1=2&c2=6035250&cv=2.0&cj=1&cs_ucfr=0&comscorekw=Australian+immigrat ion+and+asylum%2CRefugees%2CIran%2CAustralian+politics%2CAustralia+news %2CMigration%2CMental+health] International edition [ ] * International edition * UK edition * US edition * Australian edition The Guardian - Back to home Search jobs Sign inSearch [ ] * News * Opinion * Sport * Culture * Lifestyle ShowMoreShow More * [ ] News + Coronavirus + World news + UK news + Environment + Science + Global development + Football + Tech + Business + Obituaries * [ ] Opinion + The Guardian view + Columnists + Cartoons + Opinion videos + Letters * [ ] Sport + Football + Cricket + Rugby union + Tennis + Cycling + F1 + Golf + US sports * [ ] Culture + Books + Music + TV & radio + Art & design + Film + Games + Classical + Stage * [ ] Lifestyle + Fashion + Food + Recipes + Love & sex + Health & fitness + Home & garden + Women + Men + Family + Travel + Money * Make a contribution * Subscribe * Search jobs * Holidays * Digital Archive * Guardian Puzzles app * The Guardian app * Video * Podcasts * Pictures * Newsletters * Today's paper * Inside the Guardian * The Observer * Guardian Weekly * Crosswords * Search jobs * Holidays * Digital Archive * Guardian Puzzles app * Australia * Coronavirus * World * AU politics * Environment * Football * Indigenous Australia * Immigration * Media * Business * Science * Tech Australian immigration and asylum 'They are breaking him': the stateless refugee Australia may never release Asylum seekers on a boat near Christmas Island [ ] Asylum seekers on a boat near Christmas Island. Gulistan and her son, Akam, left Indonesia for the island in 2013. Photograph: Josh Jerga/AAP Asylum seekers on a boat near Christmas Island. Gulistan and her son, Akam, left Indonesia for the island in 2013. Photograph: Josh Jerga/AAP Akam* has not known a day of liberty since arriving on Christmas Island in 2013 aged 16 Ben Doherty Ben Doherty @bendohertycorro Tue 3 Jul 2018 19.00 BST [ ] Last modified on Tue 3 Jul 2018 19.01 BST * * * On the quiet shores of an Indonesian island half a decade ago, Gulistan* packed her young son into a leaky boat for the journey over the horizon to Australia: seeking a place, finally, they might call home. Gulistan and her 16-year-old son, Akam*, had been running months already, having fled Iran, where their ethnic minority, the Faili Kurds, have faced generations of systematic and unremitting persecution. In Iran, Faili Kurds are regarded as Iraqi interlopers, forced over the border by Saddam Hussein’s Ba’athist regime, and left isolated by the brutal war between the two countries in the 1980s. In the decades since, many Faili have eked out an existence at the margins of Iranian society – denied citizenship or basic human rights, healthcare or education. The precariousness of Gulistan’s family’s situation was compounded by her son suffering a developmental disorder, and mental health issues exacerbated by the trauma of his father’s death. The family lost its “white” Amayesh card, a system of refugee registration in Iran, and with it the precious few rights they held. Over the years, I have become more depressed and suffer from more anxiety Akam As the net of Iran’s security forces closed around her family, Gulistan sought sanctuary for herself and her son elsewhere, a promise offered by a people smuggler’s boat to Australia. After days at sea, they arrived on Christmas Island on 25 August 2013. Since that day, Akam has not known a day of liberty, and he faces the possibility of never being released, despite facing no criminal charges. “Every day in that place, they are breaking him,” his mother tells Guardian Australia, holding back tears. “But my son deserves a chance at life.” Gulistan’s campaign The bare facts make Akam’s case straightforward: he is stateless – no country recognises him as its citizen – and he was quickly able to prove a well-founded fear of persecution in Iran. Australia recognised him as a refugee in 2016 and is legally obliged to protect him. Akam cannot be forcibly returned to a place of harm. But his time in immigration detention has been traumatic, and difficult, blighted by mental health and related behavioural issues. In May 2014, while he was still a 17-year-old child, Akam grew increasingly frustrated with the slow progression of his case. He lashed out at, and threatened, officers, and damaged property inside the Perth immigration detention. He was charged with assault (including one count under circumstances of racial aggravation) and with damaging property. Dying refugee receiving care at Gold Coast hospital after Nauru move Read more The offences were resolved by the Western Australian children’s court, which issued him a caution and noted “all criminal matters are finalised”. Akam has not offended in adulthood. But those childhood charges continue to haunt him and affect his future. Akam was issued with a “qualified security assessment” by Asio. He is now 21 and faces indefinite incarceration in Australia because he is deemed to have failed the department of immigration’s broadly defined character test. He is now more isolated than ever. Behind the steel fences of Villawood detention centre in Sydney, he says he feels entirely alone. His mother has been granted a five-year safe haven visa and an older brother, who fled Iran earlier and settled in Australia, also lives in Sydney. They visit as often as they can but Gulistan’s deteriorating health means it is growing increasingly difficult for her to travel to see her son. “I have been in detention for a very long time,” Akam says from the Villawood centre, “almost five years, and I have never been allowed to live outside in the community. Villawood detention centre Akam is being held at Villawood detention centre after fleeing Iran, where the Faili Kurds have faced generations of persecution. Photograph: Daniel Munoz/Reuters “This experience has changed my life completely. Over the years, I have become more depressed and suffer from more anxiety. I really don’t understand: the authorities don’t really care about refugees.” In meetings with case workers, healthcare workers, the commonwealth ombudsman and others, Akam has repeatedly stressed his desire to return to school. During five years in Australia, he has been housed between half a dozen detention centres in various cities. “When I arrived in Australia, I had just started high school. My education has since been destroyed. I was moved around the country to different detention centres and was not offered any schooling for the first two years, even though I was only young. I was finally allowed to complete year 10 but have not been permitted to attend school since then.” He has found the strictures of detention cloying and chafed against its repetitive regulation. At one point Serco guards were mandated to monitor him at arm’s length 24 hours a day. 'You hate us that much?' Mother of refugee who killed himself on Nauru berates Australia Read more He says he only wants a chance. “All I want is to be allowed out of detention so that I can contribute to Australian society and help others. My dream is to become a scientist or politician but they are taking away my hope.” In a Department of Home Affairs record of interview, he accepted his earlier behavioural issues. “I need to get out to live my life,” Akam said. “I have said things whilst here but this was all due to the frustration of being in detention. I wouldn’t do any of the things talked about. In any event, I was a child when I said these things. “I want to live in Australia, I will not be a threat to the Australian community. I am a good person, I’ve done nothing wrong – all the incidents that have been recorded against me have not been my fault, other people have either made up stories or provoked me. “I don’t want to be an old man still in detention.” Gulistan says the ongoing and indefinite detention is damaging her son. Each time she visits, she finds him a little more diminished. “He is depressed, he is always asking me, ‘Why did you bring us here, you only made life worse?’ He never eats, or he has one meal a day. And he is completely isolated, he is always alone in his room.” She says he has grown mistrustful and is finding it increasingly hard to relate to the world outside detention. “He says to me, ‘Are people like this outside? Are they like the guards here, or are they better?’” [Akam] is a young, isolated and vulnerable person with detention fatigue Commonwealth ombudsman Gulistan campaigns furiously for her son: she visits MPs’ offices and meets with lawyers and advocates working on his behalf. She drafts letters in support of his case and catches a slow bus to visit him. “His detention is like jail for all of us,” she says. “I am his mother and I will do anything to help him. But I can’t. And I feel helpless.” Doctors have consistently said detention is harming Akam and that his long period of high-security incarceration will make his integration into society increasingly difficult. Akam has been diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder and hyperkinetic conduct disorder, both of which are exacerbated by his detention, and he has been treated in hospital for suicidal ideation. An International Health and Medical Services report from 2014 states: “The psychiatrist [who examined Akam] advises that remaining in his current confined environment is exacerbating his mental health.” The commonwealth ombudsman has written three reports on Akam’s incarceration, telling the Australian government a solution must be found – in increasingly frank terms. Tamil family members win injunction to prevent deportation to Sri Lanka Read more The last report, tabled in parliament in October last year, said: “[Akam] is a young, isolated and vulnerable person with detention fatigue, poor social skills, and impulsivity. International Health and Medical Services reports that psychiatrists have continuously advised that [Akam]’s ongoing detention is detrimental to his mental health and recommended that he be released into the community with mental health support and enrolment in an educational course such as Tafe. “The ombudsman notes with concern the government’s duty of care to detainees and the serious risk to physical and mental health prolonged immigration detention may pose.” The immigration minister’s own department recommended, as long ago as June 2014 – after charges had been laid against Akam – that he be allowed to live in the Australian community. “There is no further information currently before the department that suggests this family would pose a threat to the Australian community if placed in community detention,” the department wrote in a submission to the then minister, Scott Morrison. The recommendation was agreed to but then revoked before Akam was released. Correspondence from the Department of Immigration and Border Protection dated 2 December 2016 said Akam’s case had been referred to the complex cancellations unit within the department (which is now the Department of Home Affairs) and was being dealt with “as a matter of priority”. Eighteen months later, no decision has been made, or appears imminent. The jetty on Christmas Island The jetty on Christmas Island. Gulistan and Akam spent days at sea before arriving on the island. Photograph: John Pryke/AAP And the government has the power to hold him, potentially for the rest of his life. The 2004 Al-Kateb high court judgment found it was lawful to indefinitely detain a non-citizen who could not be removed from Australia. Subsequent governments have appeared anxious not to have the issue revisited by the court – no justices from Al-Kateb remain – and cases involving indefinite detention are often resolved just before they reach the bench. A Home Affairs spokesman said the department was aware of Akam’s circumstance, “however cannot comment on individual cases”. “A non-citizen who does not hold a valid visa will be liable for immigration detention, including while their visa application is assessed against the character test. There are no time frames in which a decision ... must be made.” The spokesman said the time taken to make a decision on visas varies with the specific circumstances of each case but those in held detention are “progressed as a matter of priority”. We lock children up and then claim there are no children in detention, when the real reason is that they got old Alison Battisson, Human Rights for All “Individuals in detention receive medical and specialist treatment commensurate with Australian standards,” the spokesman said. The director of Human Rights for All, Alison Battisson, is one of the lawyers representing Akam. She has taken his case to the United Nations’ working group on arbitrary detention, which has consistently found Australia’s indefinite detention of refugees and asylum seekers is unlawful. Battisson says Australia’s treatment of Akam shows a total disregard for its obligations under international law. “We have signed a contract – the refugees convention – to protect people such as Akam and, further, to treat them with dignity and respect. Instead we lock children up and then claim there are no children in detention, when the real reason is that they got old.” The rigidity of Australia’s immigration detention system – Australia is one of the only countries on earth in which asylum seekers are mandatorily detained because of the way in which they arrived in the country – has led to people facing long-term, even limitless, detention, because of the government’s inability to resolve people’s migration status. 'You hate us that much?' Mother of refugee who killed himself on Nauru berates Australia Read more But Battisson says Akam’s situation is not complex and could be easily resolved. “A vulnerable young man arrived on our shores seeking asylum, as is his basic human right,” she says. “We locked him up. He then, very predictably, acted out. The government then used this teenage behaviour against him.” Battison believes the department has targeted refugees and asylum seekers for character concern visa cancellations but has failed to allocate sufficient resources to deal with the cases, leaving adults and children languishing in detention. ‘We need to rebuild him’ In Villawood, Akam faces another day behind the steel fences: everywhere he goes noted, every conversation he has observed, every communication monitored. “I have been in detention for a very long time – all I want is to be allowed out.” Outside his mother furiously campaigns: “Can we give him his five years back? No. But my son needs to come out, and then we need to make him strong enough to be OK. We need to rebuild him.” • Names have been changed for legal reasons. 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