Arriving in an unfamiliar country as a teenager can bring many challenges, but a small school in regional Australia is showing the way.
I was 17 years old when the elected government of the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan collapsed and the Taliban took over.
My father was a general, an important person in the army, but he is also my best friend. He knew it wasn’t safe for us anymore and that my sisters and I might not be able to finish our education.
We left at 3am the next morning. We didn’t know what would happen.
We were only allowed to pack two pairs of clothes each and we were terrified of being caught.
All seven of us, my father, mother and brothers and sisters. We couldn’t leave from the international airport.
My father had to get help from the Australian Government to evacuate our family.
We were granted a visa and a gate pass.
We took a taxi straight to the Torkham Border where the Australian army was.
I remember how scared I was. I remember seeing lots of Taliban standing there with weapons.
They asked us to get out of the car and line up. When they asked why we were leaving, we said we were travelling for medical treatment. Somehow, that worked.
They didn’t let us back into the taxi, so we walked a long way to get to the Australian Army.
We could see the first signs of safety.
There was still a long way to go to make it to Australia.
But we made it.
We are safe now.
Into the unknown
The quiet suburban streets of Shepparton, with a population of just over 50,000, are a far cry from the bustling thoroughfares of Kabul, home to millions of people.
But here Nillab is busy building a new life.
It was less than a year ago when she was whisked out of her home in Kabul under the cover of darkness, following the Taliban takeover of the country's capital in August. Speaking through an interpreter, Nillab says she was desperate to bring her books and documents with her to the border — but she was only able to pack a spare set of clothes.
"Although I miss everything about my country and my house in Kabul, I'm making new friends and my siblings and I are happy here," she says.
Nillab has also had to adjust to a completely different education system; one where classes run five days a week instead of six and include activities like sport and art.
But, she says, the hardest thing of all has been not being able to communicate in English.
She's currently studying at Shepparton English Language Centre (SELC), a prep to Year 12 school open to new migrants during their first year in the country.
Almost half of the school's 41 current students are Afghan, with more than 70 per cent of the total cohort on humanitarian or protection visas. The size of the student body is fluid and unpredictable, expanding up to 130 students during some periods and shrinking back in sync with waves of migration. Recently the school welcomed its first Ukrainian student.
SELC's coordinator Laurie Hucker believes the school's role in the community goes far beyond equipping students with the language skills needed for mainstream education.
"We try to get as much English into them as we can in a short space of time," he says, "but we also want it to be a gentle step into Australia — where the students can get used to the new country, make friends and learn about Australia."
It's a broad remit, that can include everything from guiding students through a different education system — where students are encouraged to share their opinions with teachers, for example — to teaching them how to catch public transport and get their driver's licence.
"We've got such a family environment, so we can have 12-year-olds in with 18-year-olds," Laurie says.
"Because we've got small numbers, more like a country school, we're closer to the students — and we also employ more support workers and interpreters than normal."
A lifeline in the regions
As Kabul fell, the Australian government evacuated more than 4,000 people from the country. Since then, the Australian government has received more than 40,000 humanitarian visa applications on behalf of an estimated 189,000 Afghan individuals.
And many of those Afghans have ended up in regional Australia.
Laurie has spent his entire life in Shepparton and has seen first-hand how migration to the city has evolved.
"The main waves at the centre have been Afghan, Syrian and Congolese," he says. "We had a big wave of Syrians coming at one time, so much so that we hired a bus to show all the parents and kids all the schools around Shepp, because so many arrived in one week."
But Afghans have consistently made up the majority of students at the school, he says.
In 2021, people born in Afghanistan made up 1.1 per cent of the population of Greater Shepparton, according to the most recent Census data, compared to 0.2 per cent nationally. Hazaraghi — the language spoken by Hazara Afghans — was also the fourth most common language spoken at home other than English, behind Punjabi, Arabic and Italian.
Recently, however, Laurie says he hasn't seen many new Afghan families arriving in town.
Part of the reason has been the border closures put in place during the pandemic, but Laurie believes a bigger problem is the shortage of available and affordable homes.
"There have been families who have been waiting in motels for housing that have given in and gone back to the capital city ... it's hard to get a rental, and then the ones that are there are asking exorbitant prices," he says.
"We've got Afghans overflowing in language centres and schools in Melbourne, but we're not getting the usual percentage in Shepparton — it's not because they don't want to come here, it's because of housing."
A familiar face and a helping hand
Part of the school's success story is that former students often come back to work there once they've graduated high school.
Among the former students turned staff is Reza Kareem, who works part-time as a multicultural education aid while studying for a civil engineering degree.
The 29-year-old speaks four languages, including his native language Hazaraghi, Urdu, Hindi and English, which allows him to help a range of new migrant families get settled in Shepparton.
Each day is different but as an example of what his job entails he describes a recent excursion with a new Afghan family where he caught the bus with them, showed them how to get a ticket and where they need to get off.
He also helps with translating. "Say the families bring a letter from Centrelink or the doctors, for example, we read the letters for them and try to give them the right information," he says.
He explains that many new migrant families seek out Shepparton not only because of the big Afghan community but because of the type of work available. "Our parents, like my mum and dad, often come not being able to read and write," he says. "So working on a farm is the only job they can get. That's why many Afghanis live in Shepparton."
Thinking back to what it was like to arrive in Australia from Afghanistan more than a decade ago, Reza says it was "very difficult". As the only member of his family who could speak any English, he says he often had to miss school to accompany members of his family of seven to appointments.
"Back then, it was difficult for the teachers to understand why I was skipping school every second day," he says.
"But now, because I've been through that stuff, I can tell the teachers these are the reasons the students are not at school — because they are helping their families."
It's not easy, but don't give up
Mohammad knows exactly how difficult it can be to find your way in a new place.
The 16-year-old was born in Jaghori in Afghanistan, and when the village was targeted by the Taliban his father was forced to flee without his family.
"Being a Hazara Shia Muslim is really dangerous," he says. "Because the Taliban target Hazara people."
With the rest of his family, Mohammad relocated to Pakistan hoping he and his father would soon be reunited.
It wasn't until 2017 that the family were finally able to be together again — this time in Australia. After a stint in Brisbane, they relocated to Shepparton to be closer to other family members.
"Over there [in Afghanistan], there were explosions constantly, so we couldn't go to school, couldn't get a proper education, and overall we didn't have much opportunity," he says.
"Being here gives me a lot of opportunities, a voice to share, I really like it here."
But it wasn't always easy. After he first arrived in Australia, he says he struggled because he didn't have any friends and his English "wasn't that good".
"When we came, I couldn't understand the Australian accent, I thought they were speaking too fast," he says.
Then he started playing soccer. Through sport, he was able to make friends and learn skills that helped him build confidence. A year later, he won a principal's award for English.
The teenager is now passionate about sharing his culture with others and countering negative preconceptions about his country of birth.
"When you see videos online, they don't really talk about the positive side of Afghanistan, but when you actually go to the country you see who they are and how they live," Mohammad says.
"They've got hospitality, they're really kind, especially if you're a foreigner, they'll welcome you and invite you to their house to feed you."
He also has some advice for other young migrants who find themselves in an unfamiliar place.
"I want people to know that moving to a new place and learning a new language isn't easy," Mohammad says. "But everything my dad went through taught me to never give up."
Nillab, too, is grateful for her father, Jamal Atmanzai.
When the Taliban took retook control, his first concern was for his daughters. He feared that education for girls and women would be banned, as it was when the Taliban were last in power from 1996 to 2001.
His concerns were well-founded. After stating that girls would be able to attend school, in March the Taliban backtracked on the promise announcing girls' schools would be closed until further notice.
Nillab does not take the fact she's able to continue her education for granted and hopes to one day become a doctor so she can help others.
“I’m very happy that I have a kind father," she says. “I feel more comfortable and happier here."
The ABC’s Takeover Shepparton program gives a voice to young people across regional Australia. If you would like to find more stories or learn about the next Takeover intake go to the Takeover website.
Young people in regional Australia can find support here.
Credits
Words and production: Maani Truu
Photographs: Swathi Shanmukhasundaram
