Asylum

As we celebrate Remembrance Day, we must acknowledge the devastating effects of war on humanity.

The UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) web site tells us that 122.6 M have been forcibly displaced at mid-2024 as a result of persecution, conflict, violence, human rights violations or events seriously disturbing public order.

Although many oppose unchecked immigration or economic refugees, most would agree that if someone’s life was genuinely in danger, they should be offered asylum. Don’t you agree?

I’d like to offer this fact-based depiction of an asylum-seeker’s journey. The name has been withheld.

Hi, it’s the end of 2020. I’m a very young girl and they call me 41.

A short while ago, I met someone who had a profound impact on my life. I don’t know where he is now, but somehow I feel we are inseparable.

I remember moving through a very dark tunnel and arriving in a place that, I’ve been told, is the safest sanctuary for a person like me. You see, I’m seeking asylum. I know that my life is at risk. Many before me did not survive this journey.

Weak, but gaining strength daily, I’m told that in less than a year I’ll be ready to move on. Till then, I feel safe and warm. I’m protected and well-fed. I am grateful for this small but wonderful place of sanctuary.

As I survey my surroundings, something feels odd. There appears to be what looks like signs of a struggle on the wall behind me. It’s as though someone was here before me but they were forced to leave in a hurry, perhaps against their will. Why would that be the case? This is supposed to be a place of sanctuary and everyone whose life is genuinely at risk, deserves asylum.

I turn around and am confronted by horror. What’s happening? Tremendous pain. Burning. Difficulty breathing. Yet, I’m ushered painfully and rapidly through another tunnel and make it out; clinging to life.

I see light and hear noises, but am dizzy from the pain, gasping for air, fighting for my life. There are people around me. Perhaps someone will help. One of them moves me to another room where I’m left alone. So cold. I cry out but can do nothing else. In my weakness, crying becomes a whimper. Won’t someone please help me! Pain gives way to unconsciousness. After a few hours, I pass away.

Girl. No. 41.

Cole Sear (child character, Sixth Sense) “I see dead people.”

Surely, you’ve seen M Night Shyamalan’s film Sixth Sense. Once you’ve seen it, you can’t watch it again without noticing the things that were evident, yet ignored the first time. I’d love to see a “Sixth Sense” type of mental reset regarding asylum-seekers. Not just any asylum seekers, but those destined to a certain, painful death. Let’s start there.

Please keep reading …

We learn from this 20 August 2024 article the need for “urgency to recognise the terrible tragedy that every week in Australia, a baby born alive after a failed abortion is left to die … and that Australia’s health care system is enabling these inhumane deaths; and for the Senate to condemn this practice, noting that babies born alive as a result of a failed abortion deserve care.”

“The Human Rights (Children Born Alive Protection) Bill 2022 has sat idle for a year following a Federal Senate inquiry in June 2023.

The bill was drafted and introduced by then–Queensland MP George Christensen in 2021. After the 2022 federal election, it was re-introduced into parliament by Senators Matthew Canavan, Alex Antic and Ralph Babet.

Whilst the bill has remained active (and will continue to do so until the next federal election), it has seen no success in being brought forward for a debate in the Senate.

This could change if Senator Babet’s motion of urgency is successful.

The Victorian senator was spurred into action after the Queensland inquiry into Robbie Katter’s Termination of Pregnancy (Live Birth) Bill 2024 on Monday. At that inquiry, a Queensland midwife gave a first-hand account of the plight of babies born alive after an abortion.”

In a FaceBook post, Professor of Law and Rhodes scholar Dr Joanna Howe wrote, “In response to today’s hearing, Senator Babet is bringing an urgency motion in federal parliament tomorrow.”

“Courage begets courage and [Queensland midwife Louise Adsell’s] decision to speak out today, has spurred Senator Babet to force a vote on this tomorrow [Tuesday 20 August]. All of us need to find the courage to spread the word.”

The vote was unsuccessful. You may be interested to know how each of the Senators voted.

The fact that the Australian Senate has continued to kick this can down the road is abhorrent. Doesn’t it make you sick that a human can be left to die without any help.

This reminds me of the time (less than a year ago) that I found a baby bird on the ground in my back yard. It had fallen / been chased out of its nest. It was panting for breath and very weak.

I placed a saucer of water by its head and it took a drink and was revived a little. I called the local council about what to do. They told me to wrap it in a cloth, place it in a shoe box and then take it to any vet and they will nurse it back to health. I did just that.

It made me feel good inside that the little chick was important enough for a vet to take care of.

Now, please revisit the story with me.

Hi, it’s the end of 2020. I’m a very young girl and they call me 41.

A short while ago, I met someone who had a profound impact on my life. I don’t know where he is now, but somehow I feel we are inseparable.

I remember moving through a very dark tunnel and arriving in a place that, I’ve been told, is the safest sanctuary for a person like me.

You see, I’m seeking asylum.

I know that my life is at risk. Many before me did not survive this journey.

[History of ≥3 abortions was the main factor that increased the risk of Asherman Syndrome (scarring of the uterus) for by 4.6 times.]

I turn around and am confronted by horror. What’s happening? Tremendous pain. Burning. Difficulty breathing.

Yet, I’m ushered painfully and rapidly through another tunnel and make it out; clinging to life.

I see light and hear noises, but am dizzy from the pain, gasping for air, fighting for my life. There are people around me. Perhaps someone will help.