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AUSTRALIA

One day at Villawood

  • 16 November 2010

'Whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers, that you do unto me.' Matthew chapter 25, verse 40

'Well, Stephanie, nobody likes children in detention, but bear in mind that the decision in I think all cases for them to be brought to this country is not made by the Australian Government ... I mean, I'm sorry for the children, but that is not the fault of the Australian Government.' John Howard, 2005 

Not so long ago I was at Villawood Detention Centre for a day visit accompanying some people who visit there each week.

There are three stages of security at Villawood. Stage 1 is the most secure. Stage 3 is slightly less oppressive and houses families with children. It is surrounded by razor wire. Inside the wire are small cabins where families live. They look like small suburban homes and appear to contain all conventional comforts — televisions, couches and kitchens. 

It was a windy day and we sat for a couple of hours in the doorway of one home, talking with its occupants. They brought us drinks and biscuits. We talked about anything and everything, but our conversation was laced with uneasy references to our surroundings.

One younger man told us of his distress: he had not heard from his family in his home country for months. He told us that he was so glad our group came to visit, because we were the only 'good' Australians he had met. Without the weekly visits by the people in our group, he would have thought that all Australians wished him ill. He had been (and was still) entertaining thoughts of suicide. 

As the conversation wound down, a ball was produced. Soon enough there was a group of children in the yard and a soccer game was about to begin. First we had to decide the teams. I asked one small boy, whose family was from Sri Lanka, which country he wanted his team to be.

'Australia,' he yelled back.

'What, really?' I said, 'what about Brazil, or Argentina?'

'No way! We're Australia! And you guys can be India!'

With that the game began. India was soon brought to its knees by the vigorous Australian team. 

Weeks later on a beautiful spring day I was walking in a local park in Melbourne. A group of children from the nearby school were having physical education class in the park and were kicking balls around, running hell-for-leather across the lawn. It struck

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