My name is Peter. I’m twenty-three years old, and six years ago, when I was only seventeen, I had to flee from Afghanistan, a country in Asia. My family were all taken by the soldiers because they were advocating for equal human rights for all the citizens, and the government didn’t like that.
We were all taken, but I was the only one who managed to escape, forced to leave my other four family members behind. I jumped off the truck which we had been forced into, and ran into the immense forest beside our house before the soldiers had a chance to reach for their guns. I then decided to seek asylum in Australia, where I would be safe.
It was an extraordinarily long journey. First I hid in the forest for a few hours, dreading any sudden noises which could be my fatal undoing. Eventually, it got too dark and the cold got the better of me, so I decided to take the risk of going out of the forest. After sleeping on the curbside, walking for about twelve hours each day, I reached a friend’s house, who I had last seen about a year ago. His name was Jacob. After having dinner with him, I decided to tell him about my plans for escape. To my surprise, he quickly looked around, and told me that he was also planning to escape. We swiftly decided to join forces with each other.
The day after, we embarked on our journey to our “Promised Land”, Australia. First, we travelled to the border which separated Afghanistan from Iran, which was our chosen country to seek refuge (temporarily). We slept wherever we
could, sometimes in deserted derelict buildings, sometimes under a tree in the pouring rain, shivering for warmth. Once we arrived at the edge of the border, we stayed there for a week, planning how to cross it. We eventually
discovered that certain areas of the border were patrolled by certain guards, who could be “persuaded” to “accidentally” let a person without a visa across.
A week and three days later, we set sail for our Promised Land.
Later... “Land ho!” came the cry from one of the sailors up on the mast over our heads. We all rushed to one side, with the boat practically tipping over in our mad fervour, scrambling to catch a glimpse of the land that we had awaited for so long. Everyone stayed watching the land, captivated by the dim blob on the horizon until they realised that it wouldn’t get any closer for a few hours. We were the only people who stayed there, struggling to hold back tears. We could hardly believe it. After a month of rushing, running, and hiding, after years of mistreatment, we were finally there. Australia. A new chapter was about to commence in our lives.
When we first reached Australia, it was difficult at first, because neither of us spoke English, and didn’t know anyone else who did. Thankfully, one day Jacob discovered someone who spoke Pashto (our language in Afghanistan), who told us about the Adult Migrant Education Program, which helped us learn English.
We’ve now been living in Australia for over five years, and although we’ve got our own lives now, me and Jacob always meet up on the third day of every month, to celebrate the time that we arrived in Australia, which truly was, Our Promised Land.