Deng Adut, interviewee

Deng Adut was born in South Sudan in 1983. When war broke out in South Sudan in the mid 1980s, four of Deng’s brothers joined the rebel forces. There was widespread famine and villages were being bombed.

At the age of six, Deng was conscripted into the Sudan People’s Liberation Army as a child soldier. During the Sudanese civil war, aged only 11, Deng was forced to undertake military training, use hand grenades, firearms (AK47s) and land mines. He was seriously injured by a bullet during combat. Eventually one of Deng’s brothers found him and smuggled him out of the military camp in a sack. He ended up in a refugee camp in Kenya.

At the age of 14, after being sponsored by an Australian couple, Deng and his brother arrived in Australia.  Settling in Blacktown, Deng studied English and then accountancy. He then went on to study law at the University of Western Sydney. After completing a Masters in Criminal Law, Deng went on to start his own law firm, the Australian Criminal Law Group.

He has also started a charity, the John Mac foundation, in memory of his brother who saved his life but then died in 2014 whilst undertaking aid work to rescue South Sudanese civilians.

In 2016 Deng was named the New South Wales Australian of the Year for 2017 in honour of his achievements and contribution to the Western Sydney community.

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Louise Whelan, oral historian and photographer
Louise Whelan

Photographer and oral historian Louise Whelan has been documenting Sydney’s diverse communities for the past 8 years.

A single mother of four primary school–aged children, Whelan left her job in property valuation to pursue her passion for photography. Her interest and passion for understanding the lives of others drew her to an ongoing project to document multicultural Australia with a focus on new settlers.

Whelan’s vibrant photographs capture Sydney’s recently arrived migrants from countries across the world.

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Interview transcript (1 of 3)

 

Louise Whelan:
Pressed record?

 

Deng Adut:
Yes.

 

Louise:
Okay. So this is Louise Whelan interviewing Deng Thiak on 4 March 2014 in his office in Bankstown, Sydney, New South Wales, Australia. Deng is a former refugee from Sudan. Thank you for agreeing to be interviewed for the State Library of New South Wales' Refugees And Migration Stories. Are you okay to proceed?

 

Deng:
I am okay to proceed. Thank you, Louise.

 

Louise:
Good. Can you just start with, do you know where and when you were born?

 

Deng:
I was born in Bor, a small town in South Sudan, and I was born in 1983. Back then, it was the Republic of Sudan, but now it's the Republic of South Sudan. So that's where I was born.

 

Louise:
Good. Can you tell me, do you know what your earliest memories are?

 

Deng:
Well, my earliest memories of being a child was just playing - playing outside my parent compound, and just playing during the night-time with a bright moon, and also being able to just having a family around me, a big extended family. It was the earliest time where I was pretty much a happy child, spending time with my stepbrother and half-brothers, and until - until '85-86, that's when everything went out of the door. My happiest memories is now all out of the door.

 

Louise:
an you tell me a bit more about your family, how many in your family and -

 

Deng:
Well, traditionally, my father was married to more than one wife. The first name of the first wife was Bol Anyuon - B-O-L, and last name is A-N-Y-U-O-N - and followed by another wife, which her name was Ayuen, A-Y-U-E-N, Kon, K-O-N, and followed by Alie A-L-I-E, Jok, J-O-K, last name. Then, followed by Nyan Thiuc Ayol. I believe it's N-Y-A-N, I think it'd have to be T-H-I-U-C, Ayol is A-Y-O-L. Then my mother was the last one - her name is Athieu, A-T-H-I-E-U, Akau, A-K-A-U. Of course, her father's name was - grandfather's name was Deng. So, it's Phil Akau Deng, that's my mother.

 

Louise:
Right. So, how many people lived together within that family?

 

Deng:
Well, all of us, especially the children, we are all together. Your half-siblings, you're one family - there's no distinction between each other. So we were all in one big family. Each wife had their own house and compound. But usually, when it comes to meals, that's when all the kids of the same age will have to eat together, and the adults eat together, and the wives usually eat together. So that's pretty much about it. Extended family - yes, I do have uncles, who also had different wives, but I cannot recall all their names. I don't even know exactly how many are there.

 

Louise:
Give me a description of what a mealtime was like, and what would you eat?

 

Deng:
Well, the mealtime was always chaotic. There was always food available, because my father was a fisherman. Yes, all the brothers would usually go and fish in the river so there was an abundance of fish. Our main meal is usually fish, and followed by a meat, like a wild game, whether hippopotamus or crocodiles. So, we were well fed. Almost everyone - everyone would never go to bed empty stomachs. There's always food everywhere, so we were pretty much happy, yes.

 

Louise:
Was there any markets, or was most of the food through -

 

Deng:
No, there's no market. You grow your own, and you self-sustain family type. So, you usually sell some of your produce for you to send your children to school, so that's the only way you do those transactions. Those kind of commercial transactions are only related to cattles and goats, so you sell them for monetary value, and you then put your child to school.

 

Louise:
How much would that cost, do you know?

 

Deng:
I don't know, back then. But they are quite dear, because cattles hold special values to the nomads, nomadic people. They are very expensive. Nowadays, if you're going to buy a cow, a good cow, it's costing you nearly $1,500. So that's for a good cow, especially - and good bulls maybe will cost you maybe a couple of thousand or $3,000. So it's always - I think it's one of the most important commodities in that community.

 

Louise:
What about traditional culture? What kind of traditional culture did you grow up with, or traditions?

 

Deng:
Well, there's usually a tradition - a lot of things that I don't remember. The first thing you've got to remember as a child is, you have to respect somebody who is older than you. Even if you had a twin brother, twin sister, and it was born before you just by a second, that person will have authority over you. You don't question what they say, you don't question how they actually kill their fast, because it's numbers - it's a community where the numbers rule. So a young person may be very smart, but because of the numbers, it will never even come up, because they have to wait for their turns. That's pretty much a hierarchy society. Tradition goes on to special things like if the boy turns 15 and then he's now a man, and he has to stay out of the kitchen - never touch food, never touch anything in his hands, never even complain about whether his belly is empty. So there's no complaint. He can stay all day, but he will never say, "Where is food?" It's usually provided by the mother or the family - generally, especially the female. So the traditions is unbroken in that sense that no man should ever question about anything to do with food in the family. You go and bring it, go and look for it, but you don't question how it's being cooked. You don't eat the food until the children eat and the wife eat. So, you are the last person to eat, whatever the leftovers. That's how it works, operates, usually, traditionally - and then vice versa. There's a lot of other traditions that's just how you give food to your wife or you give food to your husband, such as other traditions like if there are two of you in the family, the husband and wife, then they can eat together. But if there are brothers in the house, then his wife won't be able to eat with the brothers, and the same thing applies the other way. So, and again, food ceremony is completely different, and that's where I think it's a stepping-stone for almost the Dinka culture. Food takes priority over anything. You don't insult somebody over food. You don't say a word that is offensive to food, because it will cost you - cost you in terms of compensation. That's where we maintain our respect. Your wife will never call you an asshole, or you never call your wife some bad names. Okay? That's pretty much an offensive, and then it would cost your in-laws - or if you did that to your wife, it'd cost you about six head of cattles. You don't need to verify it by saying, "Well, where is the witness?" They say that it's just one word against another, because nobody is going to turn around and say, "Well, he or she didn't say that." So they are lines that you don't cross. Yeah.

 

Louise:
How does that law or compensation work?

 

Deng:
It works the moment reports it.

 

Louise:
To?

 

Deng:
Or if my wife reported me to my brother or my uncle, and then her words are taken as the evidence, and there's nothing else goes there. I don't say, "I didn't say it," because if you deny that, and then pretty much you have to - there's a lot of things you have to go through, such as the - I don't know what you call it. But you have to swear by either your child's name, your mother's name. You've got to swear in front of a medicine man to be able to do that, and nobody wants to go through that process. If you go through that process, the chances of you dying because you say something bad are quite bad. So nobody wants to go through that process, unless you say it is an untruthful allegation. Or what are the chances that your wife would say, "He said that to me, and I want my family to benefit from this allegation," because she is actually losing six cattle. So, she would be able to have no means of supporting herself. The idea of punishing somebody has become a deterrent so they will never do it again, or never do something as such.

 

Louise:
Growing up, did you see examples of that?

 

Deng:
I seen - because I didn't grow up in that context, I grow up when I was older and I observe it as the - many of the people within the camps were practising these traditions. But for me to be able to observe this in my family were just not there, because I left when I was about six. So, that was one of the misfortunes that I went through. But yeah, those traditions still apply today, and you could see them - even some people practise them in Australia, that you hardly insult your husband or your wife. You hardly insult your wife. That's pretty much about it.

 

Louise:
You were talking about the schooling, education. Did your parents or yourself - were you educated at all when you were living in -

 

Deng:
No, no, no. Like I say, there was six - five or six wives by that. What I know is, and what I've been told is that my father, for my mother, there was a brother called Adut. I had a brother, his name was Adut, also followed by another brother called Anyun, a half-brother called Anyun, a brother called Adut - another Adut Junior, because we had so many Adut. I think there's another brother, and my late brother who actually died recently in South Sudan. So there was about five boys that actually went to school, and among the whole family. These were the guys that say, "Well, we want to go and study," and they don’t want to be fishermen or keep cattles. He was able to manage to sell some of his produce and sponsor them. One of them graduated in - he didn't graduate, sorry. He was in fourth year doing media in University of Khartoum, and he went through a lot of issues such as, because he was a Muslim, he wouldn't be able to complete that. He also went through a lot of issues such as an alleged assault on him, where one of his eyes was actually taken out, because he'd rather choose an eye or all of the eyes will be taken out. So he choose one eye, one eye was taken out. Then in '83, when the war break out, he decided to join the rebel force, and he became Second Lieutenant in the army. He gradually go up the rank, and he died in 1996 as a commanding officer, which is a high-ranking officer in the army. So yes, he left. He's survived by his wife, a girl and a boy. So, this is my older brother. The other one, too, actually died a month when I - he died 2012, when I actually get back to Australia. That was one of the guys too, and he was actually a high-ranking officer in the army. The other one actually died from - it was a bullet wound that went through his belly, but it was never being taken out all these years. I think he was poisoned by the bullet travelling through his bloodstream. So, he died. He died - it was '98 when he died. One of the other brothers, he's the one that died recently, and he's the one that smuggled me out. He's another one - one of those who were able to go to a bit of schooling before the war break out. So that's pretty much covering those who are educated, and there were none others who have never even seen the school or classroom. The girls, none of them went to school.

 

Louise:
Talking about traditional culture, do you mind me asking about the scars that -

 

Deng:
Yes.

 

Louise:
- and what they are.

 

Deng:
Usually, they are marking, and then the marking, you can trace it back to, I believe, it was through colonisation period, where you could trace it back to the later - you could trace it back to about 1700-1800, when the English start to invade France, come back, and they decided to say, "Well, we're going to try to mark people to know their tribes," because they didn't know which tribe it is. So these tribal marks didn't exist, pre-exist, in that. Some of the tribal marks are recent marks, such as the one that looks like a tattoo on your shoulder. But some of these marks, they adopted it. But originally, the marks that you get in forehead with a small cut - we have a river blindness in the country. That's predominantly what they do, and people believe - in ancient Dinka and others - believes that you can only cure river blindness by actually cutting through the veins when you are a child, because the child is recent. So, take out the bad blood, and then do another one, keep doing it - it's actually to allow the child not to develop a nerve system that can do that. I don't know whether it's true or not. But they are practising it for a while. There's other markings, other traditions that they use for just to say - and some of them are - when I came in 1998, one of the things is, I saw an article in the paper, and there was a doctor that said, "If your tooth falls off, the best thing you do, you get hot milk and put it in, and put it back in." It's actually part of the tradition people used to practise there - they say that's the best way to do it. If your tooth falls out, get a hot milk, swaddle the - it's not goat's milk, but it's actually cheap milk. Get warm one, put it back the teeth, and put it back in - it will just hold on. Some of these traditions, I don't know how they know them, but they do those kind of practises.

 

Louise:
Right. Can we talk about you having a peaceful life, and then things changed? So can we talk about -

 

Deng:
Yes, we can. I believe the trouble started, and I can recall how the trouble started, was in '85 - 1985. I remember, my mother used to go to a place called Bukwo, and what she used to do is to go and get food, because it was one of those famine seasons - there was so much famine. Cattle were dying. Cattle were not producing food. That's coincided with the rebellions, which happened in '83, and then it went through to '86, when the Sudan people raised an army then mobilised themselves. That's when my brothers - actually four of them joined the movement like. So, all the [unclear] time, plus you lost all these number of people that were providing food or cultivating the land - now you're left with nobody. Women were not able to cope, were not able to eat, kids were not able to get food.

 

Louise:
Do you remember that?

 

Deng:
I do remember clearly. You remember, because you see a dead cow there - what are you going to do with it? You've got to cook it, you've got to eat it, that's a meal for the day, and you pray that there will be another meal. Even though it's a rotten meal, we eat carcasses from dead animals. It was just horrible, I remember it. It changed to, I believe, '87 - that's when we, our village, was starting to get bombed on a daily basis. We crossed -

 

Louise:
Bombed by?

 

Deng:
By the government, Sudan government, which is then colonation, and I have -

 

Louise:
How old were you?

 

Deng:
Back then, I was nearly four or five - four, yeah. Then the bombing all the villages - you could see people just dying, and my father died that year.

 

Louise:
In that conflict?

 

Deng:
Yes, in that year. Yes, died in that year. What I recall is, I was with my auntie, and we were just running crazy everywhere - kids displaced, kids everywhere. You don't even know where your mum is. You see them crying - it was just like a cattle camp that is just arriving, you know. So, we crossed to the other side of the river.

 

Louise:
Who is we?

 

Deng:
We, I mean my family and the whole community, crossed that side of the riverbank, because they believed that, if they crossed there, the government wouldn't be able to use their artillery tanks to reach there. But unfortunately, they were able to do that attack, launch their weapons, and we just - [travelled/troubled].

 

Louise:
How did you cross? Like, did you have a boat, or were you swimming?

 

Deng:
Yes. We were fishermen, so we had canoes. We have canoes, and our canoes were basically being used to take the people to the other side, so we were lucky. Those who were not fishermen were in bad position than us. So yes, we crossed there. We stayed there until it was summer, I believe - because you can tell, the weather was hot.

 

Louise:
Geographically, where is that now in Yuvzu? Do you know what the river was?

 

Deng:
The River Nile.

 

Louise:
Nile, yes.

 

Deng:
But the place where I was is called Malek, M-A-L-E-K, and this - the other side of the river is called [Yunum]. [Yunum] is actually recently - six members of my family were actually killed in [Yunum], in last month. This is my traditional land, and we own that cattle camp in [Yunum], and we even own the lake - my father owned the lake across the swamp. So, we - Malek, if I can tell you a little bit bigger background on Malek, Malek actually used to be a military area. The Archbishop of Canterbury, Paul's Church, used to operate there, and First Anglican was in Malek. This is where a lot of Christianity actually starts spreading everywhere, from Malek, actually. So, it's kind of historical. It's a very historical centre for a city. Then, again, the Archbishop decided - because there were a lot of people suffering from leprosy that were just left by their family, disowned because people think that it is a disease that is coming from your ancestors and stuff like that. So he decided to bring them and actually house them in Malek. So, we accepted them. We didn't deny them. Then the people started recovering, and we treated them.

 

Louise:
When was that?

 

Deng:
It was - you can go to 1904, 1906. Yeah, 1904, 1906 - something like that. 1901 to 1906, I think you can get this - maybe are correct, to put it that way. So yeah, and that's where we were. We were stranded in that Malek, or in [Yunum]. Then the government decided to say, "Well, you guys now need to give up one of your child, if you had a boy." I am the next in line, because for my mother, she already had Adut and Mach, the one that recently died - they were already in the army, already. So the next boy in line will be me, because there's another boy called Akau, A-K-A-U, but he was still a baby. They couldn't do anything. My sister Grit is older, but they couldn’t take girls, so I was next in line. It's a compulsory conscription; you have no say. If you say no, you're still going to get tortured, and you've got to give the child up. So that - how -

 

Louise:
How old were you?

 

Deng:
I was seven, six. So we were taken from [Yunum]. Then we were marched to - to - I believe we went to Kunyung. Among these members, my close family, which is including my half-brother's son - I say half-brother's son, because my half-brother, because his mother was older than my mother, his sons were actually born before me, so I am actually an uncle by the title. My nephew, my oldest half-sister's son, and then my other nephew, my other oldest stepsister's son - so there were three of us from the same family. Then, my uncle had a son - my other uncle had a son, so in the village, there were about - in that small time, we had over 70, 80 kids. Or could be less - I don't remember.

 

Louise:
How did it happen? Did they just arrive and tell you that that had to happen -

 

Deng:
Yes.

 

Louise:
- or did you get pre-warned?

 

Deng:
You were given, I think it was just a couple of days, two days or less.

 

Louise:
Do you remember your mother or somebody telling you?

 

Deng:
I remember the reaction - I didn't want to go, and I was crying. I just don't want to go. Some of the stories they'd told me - and I believe one of them was, you will go and study in Ethiopia and you will be educated. Very, very well educated. The other one was, if you go there, you will be able to wear nice share, nice shoe, and you will look smart. All these were believable. But one of the things that did - I was never impressed by this. My step-brother - my half-brother, sorry, took off his army - because he just came from the army - took off his shirt, and he said, "Put this one on." The shirt was just pretty much covering me all, and it was just, like, big. It was like a dress. He said, "You wear this if you go there. You will make more of those shirts. You will make more of those shirts before. You will own more of those. You will have everything you want." I thought, okay, that sounds like a good idea. So, putting on a shirt for the first time, and it's a military khaki shirt, green - green, one of those that you can see in the movies, they wear by people back in Vietnam War, that green. I remember that, and I put it on. That was the only thing that changed my mind. I was happy, I was so excited, because no other kid is wearing it. I said, "Okay, I will do that." So, I was being helped by my older brother. He assisted me. He was carrying me, because I was the youngest, so he was pretty much carrying me on the back. But he was part of the conscript, my half-brother. He was part of the conscript, so he moved me to Kunyung and we were marched to Ethiopia. He was with us, and he assisted me. I walk - I was pretty much - they were carrying food, so we were walking day and night. You see the blisters in the feet, you can't even walk. I mean, the kids are just dying - just dying, because nobody cared. Not only that nobody cared, but because there was no food. Food, it was actually not the problem, but the water. We weren't able to, I remember - we were able to reach to a place called Gilo. Before Gilo, in between Ethiopia and South Sudan, and they killed an elephant, and we were taking the ice 30:10 inside the elephant, the actual fresh grass, and we're squeezing it and we're just drinking it as water.

 

Louise:
Really?

 

Deng:
Yes.

 

Louise:
So it was in the elephant?

 

Deng:
Yes, in the elephant. This was the form of water we were drinking, and this helped us. So you get to have a bit of it, to squeeze on your mouth, to dry it. So we got there, and one of our uncles, Gan Cordio, who actually passed away after I came back here, he was one of the oldest people in my village that was actually left. He took us there in his command. He helped us. He knows how to share the water, because water was just a commodity - took the cap from the gherkin, and then pour that and put it on your lips, and you just keep going that way. Just keep going until it was -

 

Louise:
What were you being told about where you were going and what you were doing?

 

Deng:
We were told we were going to do study, and we were - yeah, we were going to study. But that wasn't the case. We were going to be trained as soldiers for the future. So, we got to Ethiopia, but - yeah, I forget, on our way, on our way, we ran out of food, we ran out of everything. So, my shirts, which is the blue one, was sold - was sold to the villagers along the road from a tribe called Anuak, A-N-U-A-K. It was sold to them for grains, and we were able to eat the grains, all of us. So, it was actually pretty good, that shirt.

 

Louise:
So it was valuable, that shirt?

 

Deng:
Valuable, so actually, it had done its job, because I was the only person wearing the shirt.

 

Louise:
It was so valuable because it was a military shirt?

 

Deng:
Military shirt, and they just - somebody in the village needed to own it, yes. So it was very good. So we arrived in Ethiopia, and then there was no food, but the food later arrived, under pretext of United Nations. But before that food arrived, we were - because we were just kids, and no hygiene, then cholera epidemic just ran in. You had measles. I actually had measles, cholera, chicken pox, whooping cough at once - this is at once - and dysentery, malnutrition, and all of this disease at once.

 

Louise:
How old were you?

 

Deng:
I was seven then. It's amazing, how the whole world works. Some people say, well, because he has the chicken pox, we have to put him in a sack - a sack. So I was put in a sack, tied up the sack, and I was placed in the sun, so that the blisters will just bust. I was inside the sack for almost four or five hours, and I was taken out. It didn't help. So I was -

 

Louise:
How hot was it?

 

Deng:
It was terribly hot, terribly hot. I remember it clearly. I was then taken to a nearby clinic. But one of my relatives, she used to work in - she used to be a bit of a - those nurse. But she's not a nurse, but she can give medicines. She was able to give us medicines. Me and [Ayung], which is my nephew, and another guy, related to [unclear] were admitted in the ward, and there were other kids in the ward.

 

Louise:
Where were you? I know you were in Ethiopia -

 

Deng:
In Anyindu.

 

Louise:
But what kind of structure was set up? Was it -

 

Deng:
We were still in a family-type setting, where if you come in from a clan, you still maintain that role. You still maintain that connection. But it was not going to happen any longer, because we were going to be mixed up now, at night. Midnight, you don't know where you're going. You were taken a place, with another place and other kids. You were placed with the different kids that speak the dialects, because we've got 65 tribes and they don't have a common language. We didn't even know how to speak Arabic, and now you are placed with these guys where, if you say, "This is a pen," he says, "It's not a pen, it's actually a stick." Or say it's a knife. So this is the chaos that we went through. But that was stage two of the - of our journey. But in the first journey, we were in that hospital setting. I was just with a few kids, and that's when I - when [Ayung], my nephew, actually pass away. He died. But I didn't know that he died, because you were just like a stick - you know, when somebody just - you can't even roll their arm or the body, just like frozen. So when I tried to wake him up, but I couldn’t wake him up, but I didn't know anything, so I waited. Then people asked, "Where is [Ayung]?" I said, "He's lying there," and they come and look at him, they said, "He's dead," and took him away. After that, a month later -

 

Louise:
How did you feel about that?

 

Deng:
I didn't know the meaning of death yet. A week later, it's actually hit me, because he's never there. So I realised the death, and I actually went crazy. I went just nuts - couldn't see anything. I walked up and down, see just a mist in the distance, and I thought it was still the cattle camp, so I just keep walking until the trees stop me, because they were just too thick for me to pass through, and I walked back. This is the same thing, so I can do that 20 times a day or 50 times a day, until I'm - I'm done with it when I get tired. A lot of - among the people that were in the ward, there were at least over 20. According to the records of people that I know, there's only two people that survived in that ward itself, and what about the other wards. Two people. I know one of the guys so far. So we were in that first. After we get better, we're just put together with other kids, and then all of a sudden in the night, we were then mixed up with all the other kids from the different tribes, different clans. We didn't know each other. Now, the reality hits you, because you don't know somebody close to you. You just basically have to deal with it. You are now being placed n the military setting, where you had a boss, who had a boss, who had a boss, and now you have to comply and you have to be taught all these things. Then you have to be taught to speak that broken Arabic, where you have to talk to other people.

 

Louise:
So you had to adopt another language?

 

Deng:
Yes, you have to. Yes, so it becomes a survival skill. You have to know that immediately, and it took people a month or less to be able to communicate.

 

Louise:
What were you being told?

 

Deng:
Now we are told, we come - we are now quite clear that we are part of the Red Army. Now it's Red Army. We know now we are Red Army, and we start singing songs, military songs that - you know, and a few people that were older than you were now being chosen and taken to do the actual military training. That was stage one. That was stage one of the training, and then the stage two would come us, the younger ones, have to go through that process. That was, I think, it was '89-90. '89-90, between that - I don't know precisely. So, after this, the bigger boys - but they were not bigger, there were some that were 15, 14, as young as 12 - were able to be armed, and they were sent back to the war. The ones that were left behind, we stayed in Ethiopia, and '90, and then Eritrea and Ethiopia started having a war, and we have to run back from Ethiopia. So, these are prevented by - but in the camp, you know, bad things happen in a military camp. You name them. I was pretty much tortured daily - have to adapt. Name it, what kind of torturing. Have to even have a - yeah, had a pair of shorts that I used to wear, and the shorts, I have to put - get the cardboard card, put it in the pocket and seal it permanently, so that if I get caned, it will actually not be so bad. So I did that, and you wear the one pair of shorts. So there's so much lice in it, so you take it out and cook it at night with hot water, and put it back and wear it. So you wear that - I don't know how long I'd been wearing that, with that pair of shorts. I had a situation where I, again, went through a relapse of diseases. Name them, even - I think, what do you call it - I don't know. I can't recall the disease, but the doctors may check it. But I went through a stage where my whole body was no body. It was just bones sticking there.

 

Louise:
How old?

 

Deng:
That was 1990. So, 1990, that was nine - nine, yes.

 

Louise:
Were you treated for the illness?

 

Deng:
Yeah, I was treated for the illness. But there was not much - I don't even know what they were treating me, but there was just injection. I recall, because people started knowing each other, and then I had relatives that come and visit me. One of my relatives came, and because I was just a child that refuses to die - simple as that, that's what I was. One day, he came in, and because he had to carry me to the toilet - carry me, just as a kid, and watch me, just clean me up. He said to me, he said, "You're poking me with your bones, you just keep poking me with your bones. Why don't you just die, because there's nothing else left?" I was so angry, but can do nothing. I make so much in effort, try to jump down, but I couldn't, because I was unable. I think that was the day that, if I was to die, that was easy, go. He managed to take me there, leave me in the hands of the nurses, and I don't know what they did - maybe inject me with drugs - I was all right. So, I remember that very clearly. I felt I just held so much hate against him. But after all, I realised, no, I shouldn't, because he first - he didn't cause all the trouble, he'd just had enough, because it's another child who is no much bigger than me. He's going through the same process - he can't even look after himself, so why would he look after somebody else? So after those years, I think I feel sorry for me - I feel so sorry that I actually held so much hate against him. It was just unnecessary. So, that was back in Ethiopia. Everything in Ethiopia went bad. We came back to South Sudan, where we were basically involved in the military warfare. Now we are grown, we are grown men.

 

Louise:
I'm just absorbing.

 

[End of Interview 1 of 3]

 

 

Interview transcript (2 of 3)

 

Louise:
So do you just want to tell us what happened when you got back to South Sudan?

 

Deng:
When we got back to South Sudan, we were in a place called Pachala, and then from Pachala, we were taken to a place called Natinga. But before I went to Natinga, we were in Capoeira. It's a small town. It's actually a very strategic town in South Sudan. In Capoeira, some of the boys want to come and seek refuge in Kenya. For me, I just thought, no, I'm not going to go with them, because they were coming to study. So I took a different route back to Eastern Equatoria.

 

Louise:
Who were you with now? Were you -

 

Deng:
I'm still with the military, Espelli. So -

 

Louise:
Did you think about leaving them?

 

Deng:
No, no, not at all. What for? So I went to a place called [Cleo]. In [Cleo], I run into my brother - the one that died and smuggled me out, I ran into him. But I did actually leave something out. I did actually meet him in Ethiopia. He actually came when he was back in the army. He came in - I think it was a part of the platoon or something called [Zow-Zow]. He was among those ones, so I met him then. Then in [Cleo], in South Sudan, I came and met him, and met him there. He went his way, I went my way. So I took Eastern Equatoria back to South Sudan, came to a place called Moli, M-O-L-I. From Moli, in '92, there was war outbreak between the South Sudanese themselves. We, the kids that were supposed to stay in that Moli, were transferred to a place called Natinga. Natinga is between Kenya and South Sudan. It's actually in - people translate it differently, but there's a tribe called [Nangyafum] or Tapoza. They are actually the people who own the land. But we use it for military and strategic purpose, to do training so that the northern government, Khartoum government, won't be able to see us getting trained there. So the government -

 

Louise:
You're still in training at this stage?

 

Deng:
Yes, so all the military training - that was '92-93.

 

Louise:
What do you do in training?

 

Deng:
We do all kind of combat training, all use firearms. Being trained how to use firearms from how to use AK-47, using 106-millimetre to 45-calibre weapons. We use them, hand grenades, land mines - all these things, we know them, all this. So we learn everything in the military books. We spend - we opened that camp, predominantly. Then some of the prisoners of war were transferred there, and then we were watching over them. Then in '93, then some of the people from - that went to Kenya then joined us. Eventually, they came back, and some of them had that [unclear] were Red Army, but they didn't know that we were already fed up, we don't want to be there. So, '94, we tested our first combat in Capoeira. We did a few assaults in Capoeira and -

 

Louise:
How old were you at this stage?

 

Deng:
In '94?

 

Louise:
Yes.

 

Deng:
11. We were just stupid. We'd do raids, go during daylight, and set out a trap and just shoot and run - just hit and run. That was '94, then early in '95, I was involved in a raid, I was shot in the back, and I keep running until somebody said, "Hey, Deng, you're bleeding." I felt it, and I just fainted. Again, I was treated. It was a big deal, and then I was treated at the - what do you call it? I was treated at the military barracks, then taken back to Natinga. Mind you, it wasn't that big, it was just shrapnel, so that came out. Then we went back - I think it was sometime in April, I can't remember exactly - and we did the attack. Then I was then wounded on my legs, and I had shrapnel on my head. That was the serious one, where I was taken to Nokoshoga in Kenya, got treated, came back again, and stayed in the military barrack. I was not doing active military duties, but I was then reminded from Natinga, and then Blatukay, these areas. So we were just involved in those short duties, but no hard combat - just doing sentry duty, not that much. When I recovered, I was involved in soccer training, playing soccer. That's when I accidentally met the gentleman named Michael Viwarlar, who was my brother's brother-in-law. We were just playing there, we know each other because of the name.

 

Louise:
Did you have any other contact with family?

 

Deng:
No, no.

 

Louise:
With your mother or - no.

 

Deng:
No. My mother actually knew that I was dead, so I did even have my own - I had my own grave back home, yes. Yes.

 

Louise:
Was she told that?

 

Deng:
She was told that I was dead, yeah. She didn't know that I exist. I was just a dead person. So yeah, and then Michael, we were playing, and then he started introducing. But because we keep ours - normally, all history, we keep a lot of the history tight, we keep family tight, we keep everything, we know almost everything - then when he started talking about my brother, it just hit me. Then I said, "That's my brother." Then we started knowing each other, we played there, and then he introduced me to his mother. His mother said, "Your brother," which is the brother, the son-in-law, she said, "He is coming to get us." Them two, the four of them, get them to Kenya, because he - my brother was then married. He was taking his wife to Kenya - he took already his wife to Kenya for treatment, and he wanted to come and take his in-laws also to Kenya, from the war zone. Then he would attend back to the war. He accidentally stepped into that camp without knowing that I was there. They just mentioned that. Then after that, when he arrived, because he was the Second Lieutenant in the army, he had privileges. So he came, and then he asked about taking these family in-laws there, because he'd get paperwork. Then that's no problem, then he discovered that I was there. With his mother-in-law, she just said, "Your brother is here." Then he said, "Well, what am I going to do? I'm going to smuggle him out." Then he said, "I'll go and ask for permission." He started asking for permission, but he wasn't allowed. He was refused to take me out. So, he decided to say, "Look, I have to do something unlawful, illegal," so he smuggled me out. He said, "Well, you do your sentry duty about 3am, because my trucks will leave about 3 in the morning."

 

Louise:
Doing what duty?

 

Deng:
Sentry duty.

 

Louise:
What's that?

 

Deng:
S-E-N-T-R-Y. It's actually when you sit out and observe - an observing post, you observe the area, that no enemy comes in. So you spend a whole three, four hours, according to your duty, just watch over the people that are stepping - so it's kind of being a watchman. That's the role. So yes, I was. Then he said, "Once you start yours, what you do is - I know it's not going to be pretty, because you'll left other people unattended. But just leave your guns, and make your bed look like that someone is sleeping there, and then come." Then I did that, [unclear], pick up a few sacks with corns and beans in it, and then I went underneath those corns until my nose was just sticking out to breathe. We were about to go, and then at the checkpoint - but the first checkpoint, there was nobody there, because I am the one that was actually doing that. So, we went through, and then we were in second checkpoint, and they check it. Nobody there - and they sometimes use a spear to check whether there's something there. They used a spear this time, but they haven't even got there - nobody there, because my brother, he's the officer there, so he - them, he told they were going to get in trouble, so they didn't do that much. Then the third one was actually when we arrived in point of Kenya, and I was finally relieved when I got out. We then went to United Nations compound, and in United Nations compound, we were given United Nations ration card. I think it was a day later, two days later, we went to Kakuma camp in the east - in Kenya. We then have refugee status after all, and we waited. Then I think that was '95, '96 - then in '96. It was late - no, it was late '95. Then in '96, his son was born. In '96, he did his process, and we went to another camp in Eastern Kenya called ADAF. It didn't - wasn't successful. But in '96, I think it was successful by getting an application with United Nations through an Australian couple who agreed to - Bob Harrison Campbell and Christina Harrison Campbell, who agreed to sponsor us. But it was delayed, because he had a son. Then, 2007, we spend that, because he was born on 5 December 1996. So, 2007, we have to wait to do the whole process again.

 

Louise:
Why is that?

 

Deng:
I don't know - yeah, whole process again. Yeah, we waited for a long time.

 

Louise:
How did you feel about that?

 

Deng:
Well, it didn't bother me. It didn't bother me. I wasn't even keen on coming here, so it was just him.

 

Louise:
What were you thinking that you were going to do?

 

Deng:
I just didn't know where I'm going. Yes, so he just mentioned the name. It didn't bother me what it is. But his idea was always, you will go and study, you will go and study, we will go and study. So, we agreed, and I think I had an interview through an interpreter in Nairobi, and they say, "Do you agree to come?" I say, "Yeah, I agree to come." I think, yeah, that was pretty much about it.

 

Louise:
What was life like in the camp?

 

Deng:
Well, the camp, compared to military camps, it was brilliant. It was a bit of food, you get your ration, small one.

 

Louise:
What's in the ration?

 

Deng:
It was just corns, a bit of oil, and beans. That's it, no more. Yeah, dry corns and beans - a bit of beans, there's not much. It's just a cane like that. If I - maybe it's equivalent - that's a fortnightly, monthly meal, was equivalent to the food that I can actually eat daily today. Whatever I eat daily today, that's equivalent to what I can eat per month there. That's pretty much - but I don't - compared to me, I don't eat daily. I eat twice a day, at lunch, I eat dinner and then the lunch. But I don't even eat breakfast. So these two combined together are maybe a couple of kilos, two kilos. That's pretty much what you eat a month. But still not worse than what we used to eat when we were in a military camp. So it's still food.

 

Louise:
Shelter?

 

Deng:
Shelter, no. Shelter, you make your own. You make your own, and yeah, pretty much make your own. Yeah, and you have 10 people, 20 people sleeping in the shelter. Yes.

 

Louise:
Made of?

 

Deng:
Made of grass, so the grass houses are the shelters. It's actually not bad. It's not a damaging environment for a rabbit, you know. It's a bad grass, and if you use it to build a house, it is great. I don't think it's bad.

 

Louise:
What about religious practice? Did you have any religion that you practised, and did you do that within the camp?

 

Deng:
When I was in Ethiopia, I was actually baptised. I don't know how. But I remember going to church, because everybody was going to church. Pretty much 99 per cent of South Sudanese were Christian. They're all going to church, because our war was fought on Christianity and Islam. So we all have to have creeds, religious creeds, and we're going to church. I was baptised, but I didn't even know the meaning of that until when I came to camp, and you just go to church because people gather in there. But I was not a man that devoted myself to any Christian practices until I came to Australia, and I started reading the Bible, because that's how I learned my English. I'd read it. So, I read the Bible, and it became a good book in that sense - it helped me out. In terms of my background, well, my town, Bor, speak Malek. I could raise my hand and swear that we founded Christianity in South Sudan. Religious-wise, my mum is religious. To me, I'd say I believe in God, very much. Because it's not just mere luck that I'm still alive today. There's something bigger protecting me. So it would be stupid and ignorant of somebody to actually say that there's no such thing called God. So I greatly believe in God, yes. That's my practice.

 

Louise:
Did you have any contact with any other family in the camp, or did you have any contact with your mother?

 

Deng:
No. There's no contact in the camp. I didn’t know anything about my mother. Even my brother knew my mother, but he couldn't communicate that I was alive when I was in the camp. He couldn't communicate that. But he knew that I was alive when he met me in Natinga. So he knew that he was the only person with that knowledge until when he went back, when he went back to South Sudan in 2004. That's when he then said, "Yes, Deng is alive," and told my mother that, and then had a telephone conversation with my mum on the phone to confirm that. Yes, but yes, that's pretty much about it.

 

Louise:
Tell me about the transition of coming to Australia. So you were in the camp, you were still sponsored - is that how you came out, or -

 

Deng:
Yes. We came here under the United Nations visa, but we were sponsored by an Australian couple. Our life, being in Australia, was pretty much easier than the average other applicant or other refugee, because we were living in a house given to us by Marist Community Service, Youth and Marist -

 

Louise:
Marist Youth?

 

Deng:
Yes. Yes. So, Marist Catholics were looking after us very well. In terms of upbringing, it's actually helped us - you know, learning the Australian way. We were being helped a lot than other people that I know so far. So, groceries, even for me to go and get a train and to buy tickets even, it was just because - were great. That's one, some of those days when you go to the train station and you don't recall what your instructor tell you, when you stand there just waiting at the machine, and the machine - as a miracle will happen. You have to remember a few words or have something in writing, and show it to somebody and say, "Hey, help me," and you're doing these deaf signs, you know, which is wonderful days back then. So yeah, I have transitioned into Australian mainstream - it was colourful, somehow, because when we arrived at Blacktown, we were one of the first to arrive at Blacktown in 1998. We walked in the street - there's no problem, everybody welcomed us, unlike today. My brother, because he knows how to speak English, so he helped us a lot. But initially, we were at Katoomba, and Katoomba was that cold, and I couldn't -

 

Louise:
Katoomba?

 

Deng:
That's where my sponsors lived. So I couldn't stay in that place. I remember overnight, the first day that we arrived, June 26, we went to Katoomba. I had my first McDonald's meal at Blacktown in Main Street. Now it's gone, that Maccas, unfortunately. We went to Katoomba, and we had a tour of Blacktown first - what is Blacktown, I didn't even know. My brother's translation said Blacktown - then he missed, the interpreter said, "Blacktown, that's where black people are." I was pretty much looking forward to seeing any other black person around. But unfortunately, just our family. So we went to Katoomba, stayed in Katoomba overnight. I had my electric blanket on, because my sponsor told me, "This is what you do." I don't understand. I was cold, so I keep turning on the electric blanket, and it was warm enough, so I fall asleep. But because it works slowly, I woke up overnight and I was actually sitting in a pool of sweat, nearly dehydrated, nearly died. I thought that I actually wet my bed, and it was just like, shit, what did I do, what did I do? So I just keep moving, and my sponsor recognised that something is wrong, so she came - "What is wrong?" Looked at the bed, she was pretty much shocked, changed the bedsheet and we got another bedsheet, and then adjusted slowly until the next day. After that, they made a decision next day - said, "Look, you're not going to stay here, we'll find a place," and that's when we came to Blacktown. Being in Blacktown, we spent most of our time going to Centrelink. We do a lot of process, Medicare, all these things - things that we didn't even have a use for, that I don't remember. Apart from being sick in Ethiopia, I don't recall any other day that I went to hospital until I came here and realised that I'm actually now weak, I have all these kind of problems.

 

Louise:
Because you had a medical, did you?

 

Deng:
Yes. When I was there, I didn't have any issue. All these small pains, they don't apply. But after I came here, eating food, almost all my body was just aching, and sometimes I don't sleep. I remember -

 

Louise:
How old were you when you arrived here?

 

Deng:
When I arrived here, I was actually 13, and I just didn't - terrible. It was hard for just - even Michael, it was hard to operate the fridge. You don't even know. I even remember telling my brother that I need to warm up a Coke that was in the fridge, to make it warm so that I can drink it. My brother actually blew a microwave at some point. So we all had our share of joy and miseries with technology. So yeah, we had a lot of problems. Then we stayed together, and then my brother went through a lot of bad process with his marriage.

 

Louise:
Were you under your brother's care?

 

Deng:
Yes, yes. Went a lot of trouble, and he actually managed to finish his studies and graduate with a Bachelor of Social Science and Humanitarian Studies - first to graduate there. I look up for him, and say, "Maybe I'll just have to graduate like him, and slowly learn English." That's my main priority, every day, every night - got myself a job at 7/11. 7/11, and didn't like it, so I went and worked at a petrol station, BP in Blacktown.

 

Louise:
When you were first -

 

Deng:
When I came, yeah. But I did a couple other jobs such as mowing the lawn, but it was not good, because I want where I can actually improve my English.

 

Louise:
Were you at school?

 

Deng:
I never went to school. The school was not - I went to school, but I didn't understand anything, a single word, a single letter. I was with kids that were just older than me. They were just - they were younger than me, and I was older, and I have to start - where do I start? Year 1, Year 2, Year 3, Year 4, Year 5?

 

Louise:
Because, at 13, you were illiterate - you didn't have any education.

 

Deng:
Yes. Yes, so it was bad. TAFE was good. TAFE was good, so I studied at TAFE. At the same time, started applying myself - I had all kind of dictionaries where I looked up words. Sometimes you work at night, and you see these people come in swearing, and they say a word, and you hear the noise and you write it down, look it up, and then you say it doesn't exist. Then you went through that kind of process, where it's hard, and you give up, because you're not leading anywhere. Yeah, but it was a good choice that I worked at petrol station. I managed to learn a lot of things there at night, and I think that was the best step for me.

 

Louise:
What petrol station did you work at?

 

Deng:
BP.

 

Louise:
In?

 

Deng:
Blacktown - was at Summer Road, now they destroy it and there is a bus. There's a bus T-way there.

 

Louise:
Was it difficult to get that work, with being one of the newer Africans in the area?

 

Deng:
No, it wasn't, actually. People - I was likeable. It was just something - maybe that was something new. Right now, it's kind of hard to get a job as if you are African in the area - hard to get a job now. But I just - I don't know, because of the whole changes.

 

Louise:
What's changed?

 

Deng:
Well, a lot changed. A lot changed, and it's trying to become, I think, more harsh than it was when we came here. I remember saying, "If people were this harsh, I would rather stay back home," because usually the good part that we liked to experience when I was a kid is rather somebody inflicting pain into your body than inflicting psychological pain into your head. Right now, a lot of things in Australia, they like psychological pain. They just - it's hard to get rid of them. If you get rid of them, then another one comes. So people like me are used to dealing with pains in extreme, extreme pain body-wise. But there's no torturing that you feel in your head, because they're just taking the pain. You bear it, bear the pain, and tomorrow, after you finish your punishment, you walk and you have no issue. So, you get your mistake. You know you did your mistake, and you get punished for it and walk away.

 

Louise:
That's how you dealt with it?

 

Deng:
Yes, that's how I deal with it. But for other people, to be able to see the reverse psychology and see people are being diminished slowly - it's not progressive at all. It doesn't help. It doesn't help somebody to actually grow. So I think I benefit a lot from being part of the early settlers amongst South Sudanese or Sudanese in general. But the people that came up to me, I don't think they would be able to settle as such as me. They need more help, yes. So that's what changed. A lot of things changed - things change. Yes, back to the story. So I was being in Blacktown, and all I wanted was to - I didn't want to go to university, but I am always interested in - I was actually becoming good in numbers. I liked to count, one to two, one to three. I did an accounting diploma and then I did an advanced diploma in accounting. I was good at numbers, and then I worked a bit for about a year. I got bored.

 

Louise:
As an accountant, or - yes.

 

Deng:
Yes. I got bored. I couldn't deal with it. So, I decided to go to university and study. I did, I think, a preparatory course of business, law and other stuff, so I done very well with those subjects. I applied through UAC, got my admission, got accepted to Macquarie first. Then it was Professor Andrew Fraser - he then, I think somebody in Parliament, some African kid, something like that. I don't know what they did, but he then said, "Well, the Africans - Sub-Saharan African are believed to have a lower IQ," which is a big topic of debate of that day. It just melt around, and people just sub-classified people as such. It was so horrible in the community. A lot of people took it aboard, the other kids. They'd say, "Yeah, they're dumb." They're just going to de-humanise people. They're not humans, so what do you do with them? Get rid of them. That's the language of genocide. That's what happened in Rwanda. Absolutely, I will stand by my words. It was the language of genocide. It's exactly the language that Charles Darwin used, what happened in Darwin - not in Darwin, sorry, what happened in Tasmania, when indigenous people were - Nilawati. That language. I was angry, so I refused the Macquarie University offer, and I accept my second offer from University of Western Sydney. I got into law, and I was pleased. I was happy to do that. So yes, that's my experience of tar raids, because I just didn't see injustice. Because you see so much injustice in Africa, and you come here, and then you see that psychological injustice. There, injustice is done by someone trying to kill you, or kill you. But here, it's not done that way, because nobody will physically assault you, but they will do that inhumane way that degraded you as a human. What do you do when you have no value as a human being? You've lost that sense of identity, sense of belonging, sense of responsibility, or sense of being a person contributing to any society. So what do you do? I didn't believe in that, because I came from a background where a lot of kids have never been through. I think my background was - if it was so not the way it was, then I won't be nobody, won't be speaking today. I could be just like other kids. That is exactly what for - this is personal will, willpower. Others don't have it, because they are not made that way. Some of them came with their parents, they came with their mothers or single mother, but they still had something to - but for me, I didn't have nothing. I didn't know there existed a mother, I didn't know existed a father, because they don't exist to me. I exist in my own world. That's how I look at it, and that's how I perform in my own personal life. So I managed to get to university, I gained language - it's hard, and I struggle. Sometimes I sleep in my car - I sleep in my car at night, and -

 

Louise:
Were you living somewhere?

 

Deng:
I was living - still living in that reservoir in Blacktown, but I don't sleep at home, because I was at Campbelltown, because if I come home and do that, it's hard. So I work at night at the BP. After I finished at the BP at night, in the morning, I go attend classes - attend classes, because I used to work three days there. The days that I don't work, I stay in the computer lab until 3a.m. Sleep in my car, eat my sandwich - bread with hams. Back then, the bread was very cheap, and the sandwich, ham, what is it, $5 for the whole lunch and dinner. Now, no - it'll be twenty bucks. So, I go back, sleep in my car, put my blanket on - I had a blanket in the car. I'd stay there. Then when it is 5 o'clock, 5 a.m. when the computer lab opened, then I'd go back there and study. So that's pretty much what I'd do, and vice versa. So, that is my studies until I finished in 2010. Then my brother had to come back and celebrate my graduation. Then he went back, and in 2011, I got admitted to become a solicitor. I enrolled in postgraduate from Criminal Law in UNSW. I didn't finished that, because I didn't like that course. But -

 

Louise:
You didn't like the course?

 

Deng:
I didn't like the course, and also because I was just too busy. So, I quit that, but I haven't completely quit unclear. Then I enrolled in Masters of Criminal Law - in Law, with Bracket Criminal Practice at Wollongong now. That should finish in June. So, a couple of months - two months, I should finish my Masters. Ever since, what do I do? I work. I did work for - I did a bit of work experience for UWS, Western Sydney. I also did a court support program at Blacktown. I also do volunteer for community on a daily basis. I did work for a company called CrimLaw and Grey's Legal, and now working for LN Legal in Bankstown.

 

Louise:
What sort of work do you do?

 

Deng:
I predominantly do criminal law, and I do family law, but not completely family law - I just do it only strictly hearing. I don't do paperwork. I just hate paperwork. If you go into court and argue the course, I will do it. But I just think there's something that I don't like about the whole family law. It just wastes time. I don't like the setting. I think they should look for an alternative way to resolve the dispute, rather than taking them to court. Yeah, I just don't know. So that's the story in a nutshell.

 

Louise:
Can we just maybe have a talk about the referendum, and North and South Sudan - or South Sudan becoming independent? Maybe firstly, how was that for you here in Australia, and did you vote here?

 

Deng:
Yes. It was one of the things that we were expecting. If you were not to participate in that referendum, you must be mad, if you are alive. It's what a South Sudanese person like me fought fro from the very beginning. It's priceless. It's so important to our identity, as a country, in the nation. Some people told me, and they don't - people joke. But I would compare - I won't compare South Sudan with Australia. I won't say that Australia is better than South Sudan, but I won't say that South Sudan is better than Australia. But what I would say is, first, on the record, is for those who are going to listen to this record, is that Australia was the first country to recognise me as a citizen in the world and have given me a passport, and that says that I am an Australian citizen. Well, in Sudan, I was never a citizen. I was born there, but I was never a citizen, because of my religion. Well, even though I was born there, I was not recognised as a citizen. So, the next step is, when I get my referendum and become part of South Sudanese, I'll get my second citizenship. Which came first? You have to judge it. But to me, I believe the first country that recognised me as a citizen, as a person, yeah, as a human being, was Australia. So that's why Australia is important to me. It's important to me, and I will put it above my interest in South Sudan. That's exactly what I would say. Well, South Sudan, in other words, is the place where I was born, my mother was born, my relatives were born, so I'm not turning my back against them. It's still my history, still my country. But what do I say about it? It's a country that shot me, poisoned me, almost - tortured me, done all the bad things to me. But it's still my country. But again, Australia has not done a single bad thing to me. So, you've got to weight your odds - weight them. Do you belong to a country that denounced you, that you're not a - the country that shot at you, want to kill you, or the country that says, "Here you are, I will let you do what you like as long as it is something that is in your best interests and is everyone's best interests." That's how I look at Australia. So, there's opportunity that is available. You just have to grab it. It's available for you. You don't have to ask for somebody to give it to you; it's all yours. So that is Australia. But South Sudan, I fought for bits of it, even to be called South Sudanese with my passport and ID. I fought for every bit of it. I bled. I nearly died. I got tortured for it. I lost my father for it. I lost my brothers, nearly all of them, and recently - some of you may have known that I lost seven members of my family again in the conflict that had no value at all. There's no meaning, and these are the kind of thing that, if you look at Australia and South Sudan and compare them, you would say, yes, I was born there, but did it offer me anything apart from death, apart from death's duties that you have to pay? Well, I like the referendum. It is something very good, because my kids, one day, they will be South Sudanese and they will be Australian, and they will be able to do something good for those two countries. That is my view of referendum. But if it didn't turn out that way, and turned out to be the other way around, it was just not going to be the way to go. It would actually take us back to war, even though we already had war against each other. So.

 

Louise:
Do you want to just talk to me about whether you've been back, and a bit more about the conflict that is happening at the moment?

 

Deng:
Yes, I went back. I remember, it was 27 of November, 2012 - 2011, sorry. 2011, that's when I, for the first time since 1998, that's when I went back to South Sudan. I stopped in Juba - I look at it, there is no more war. I kiss the ground, and I walk back there. When I meet my brother, and I want to meet my relatives that were back there - then two days later, I got on a plane, but the plane was cancelled, because the kings of Anwar tribe die on that day, so I have to wait. I have to wait, and then I have to wait for another plane, but there was no plane, it was cancelled. So I went - I took a 4WD, got in a 4WD and we drove to Bor.

 

Louise:
Who did you go with?

 

Deng:
I went with - I went there, but I was in the 4WD by myself, but there were other people in the car that were going to Malek. So I got out at Malek, and when I got out there, my mother knew that I was coming. There was an old lady sitting under the tree, and she just keep waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting. My little brother was just waiting, waiting. Once I got off, she pick up a stick and started walking towards me, and she dropped the stick and she started trying to carry me, grabbed me. I just said, "Look, you could." Yeah, I was so happy. She was so happy. I started crying, she started crying. I look at her, and her whole body is - I would describe it as a signature of the war. It's a map. The whole body was just a map of war; the injuries, the suffering, the ageing, the marks of giving birth to nine children. All these things, they were all written in her skin. You could just see, and she was happy. She was just happy. We stand there. We went in, small hands staying there, and it was just a day that you don't have to forget. It's just there. Now, I don't think I would find the words to describe exactly that. So yes, leaving her was just - it was pretty much a crazy idea to leave her there. Not because I want her on her own, but to be able to compare the women of her age in Australia, and what she went through, and all the pain in her body that she complained of - it was just what was actually, in my mind, was just - I didn't want to leave her, yes. But she didn't want - she's a strong woman, even though she's old. She's strong, yes.

 

Louise:
So that was your first time -

 

Deng:
First time.

 

Louise:
- since you were six -

 

Deng:
Yes, yes.

 

Louise:
- and taken away. Yes, so - I'll just pause for a minute.

 

[End of Interview 2 of 3]

 

 

Interview transcript (3 of 3)

Louise Whelan:Sorry, it's not - so we'll just maybe have a bit more of a chat about the conflict that's existing now. Have you been back since? Adut

 

Deng:
No, I haven't been back since the conflict, but yeah, it's a conflict which set the country backward. It's a conflict where, when my brother die - my brother, and my three half-brothers, my half-sister, my uncle and his wife, and a small baby. When they were actually killed, I actually asked myself the question, "What are we going to call this people? Are we going to call them heroes? Are we going to call them martyrs? What are we going to call them?" Innocents, and …

 

Louise:
So they've all passed away recently?

 

Deng:
Yes, yes. What are we going to call them? This unwanted war, what are we going to do about it? I am puzzled. I can't find a word to describe exactly what I - but it's always an issue. We had a problem initially in 1991. 1991, that's when Dr Machar won against the government and joined the Khartoum regime to overthrow the SPLM - SPLA South Sudan People Liberation Movement. He went to my village, the same village again, and he killed over 2,000-5,000 people in that few weeks.

 

Louise:
When was that?

 

Deng:
In '91. After 1991, after that date, he took all the cattle, the food, destroyed the crops, and the famines then kick in. Nearly 25,000 people die because of this action, which he admitted that he was wrong and he shouldn’t have done it. But we turn our eyes against this, because we wanted to reconcile. We moved on with our life. Despite all these things, he choose the same location again in recently, and he went ahead and massacred more people. So for me, it is something very personal, to be able to go in the same village where he killed people before, and do it again. So, it left a lot of holes in the hearts in people, and the healing process is something unimaginable. For me, losing nine members is - the question that I will ask is, "Is it okay to forgive twice, '91 and now? Or what is the solution?" If I say, "Eye for an eye," well, we're not going to move forward, but they haven't been addressed - even the Western countries are still supporting Dr Riek, despite the fact that they had something called International Criminal Code. They never even issued a warrant for his arrest, despite all this crime.

 

Louise:
Why is that?

 

Deng:
I don't know. I don’t know, and my fingers will always point at the Great Britain, and all time. All time. Yeah. His oil, what else? His oil is what's causing all this trouble. Who benefits from oils, if the war breaks out? Who will benefit if you allow the other tribe and the other tribe to fight each other? Who will benefit? You reduce in numbers, and we haven't even finished our problem with the north. We went ahead and causing this massive damage, things that we've built recently - we just destroyed them, and I really don’t think I need to point fingers to any way. First of all, we can resolve this issue, but it's a simple maladministration. It's a simple ignorance of what is the law and the rule of law is. It's a simple thing that we know, that if you keep somebody in power for that long - since '85, the same crew are still running the country as their own - what will be the different, in changing? How are you going to change them? Even if you want to change the government, you still are going to have the same people. So, it's horrible to say this, but I always hoped, if those generation, somehow, all of them die, I would celebrate, happily, because the next generation would be able to have no quarrel between each other, because they don’t have - won't quarrel. They want their children to move forward. But that generation, the '85, they were military. They cannot run the country again, because it's not their job. They've done their job. They should step away and let the people that can run the country, run the country. But them, they just want to fill up their pockets, fill up their pockets, and that's all the interest is. That’s what caused the country to go to war. Do I know what is the result? They say they want power sharing. Power sharing with who? How are you going to share powers - power sharing with the tribes that rebel against the government? How can one tribe rebel against the government and say you want a power sharing? How are you going to have this combination in place? You see, I don’t think we have a strong institution. If we come with a young nation just one day, and the international community want us to exist, they should have done something in place - put mechanism in place. But they didn’t have those kind of interests. All they said is, "Well this people, they're not going to stop fighting. We have to give them their autonomy." We give them their autonomy, and even if you don’t give them, they're going to get it anyway. So either way, they're going to get it anyway. But once they get it, they're still going to kill themselves anyway." So we're just like a given situation, and there's no solution to it. So that's what caused the whole problem in the country. But to keep these people in powers is one of my major problem. They're so corrupt. Even in Australia, you see them sending money overseas to their children, and Australian government - well, if they are not complicit, why are they not answering this question? Why are you buying this property? Where did you get the money from? The country was just about two years old, and you're having $300,000, $400,000 to $800,000, a million dollar houses.

 

Louise:
Here?

 

Deng:
Yeah, in Australia. Why are they not being questioned? Can we look into their financial affairs? If we do that - and they do it Kenya, they do it in Ghana, they do it in UK, where one ambassador was caught with nearly a million dollar - carrying money in a bag. If we do that check and balance overseas without allowing them to take the money that should go to a proper channel healing process, hospital, so that the kids that are born will have a little medication, schooling, this thing would stop. But they don’t do that. They turn a blind eye, because they say, "They're just African. Let them just do it, that's the way it is." But they still invite us to be part of you, in your nation, and you still want us to harm ourselves. How does that help? Nobody wants to see harms. Everybody wants to see right things, but only a hypocrite would be able to actually use both hands to eat in the same plate. So this is the kind of hypocrisy we see in the West. But I'm not pointing fingers. We have to accept our responsibility as well, as South Sudanese or Sudanese in general, that we have to clean our own acts. If we want to move forward, we have to do it ourselves.

 

Louise:
Does conflict within tribes or between the North and the South in Sudan, does that have a flow-on effect for different tribal groups that live here in Australia? Do you see any evidence of that?

 

Deng:
No. There was a bit of commotions when the - little bit of issues when the incident took place. It did affect family members, because they say, "Well, they were killed because of the tribes. They were killed because of that, because of all wrong reporting." But it doesn’t affect us a lot. For example, me, I'm not going to point fingers and say, "The [Wen] Nuer who killed my brothers and my sisters and my uncle's family." I'm not going to point fingers. I will point fingers two things, two people. I will point fingers to Riek Machar, who is a criminal. I will point my hand to kill [Kien Renyardit], who should have acted to stop the crime being committed in his name, and now he is actually complacent in the whole thing. So that's what I would do. I'm not going to point fingers saying, "Nuer have done that." They haven't done it. It's one man that's always evil, and then there's another man who didn’t took responsibility seriously. Yeah, that's where I'll point the fingers. But really, I don’t think, if I see a man from another tribes, yeah, I won't have a grudge against him. What for?

 

Louise:
What do you think the general community's perception of Sudanese people on what they're been through, here?

 

Deng:
Well, the Australian community in general have - what I would say personally is, we have benefited a lot from Australia. Mind you, per capita, Australia have taken so many Sudanese in, as compared to the United States, Canada or the Netherland, Dutch. So Australia have done an enormous job to bring people in here. But one thing is, that I'm always afraid of is, if you bring people in here, what purpose are you serving, in general? Why do you bring them here? Are you bringing them here for protection, to protect them, or are you here to make them better people? That's where it stop. Australia bring you here, gives you six months, seven-month orientation, and they just think that you can just integrate in the society without any help. Come on. I would guarantee that Tony Abbott, our Prime Minister, if I take him to South Sudan, with its 65 tribes, won't survive the day. Won't survive six months. He won't know anything. He will come back here, primitive, with nothing about the tribes, 65 tribes. Now, you would say, well, because these people, they don’t know English. English is not everything. There are other languages that other people speak, and speaking the language doesn’t make you smarter. Absolutely. But for South Sudan, they need to be able to have a level of communication and a level of education, so they will be able to do things themself. Mind you, these are the people that went through generation after generation after generation of war. There's trauma in them. They need to be addressed, these psychological issues. The underlying problems, they have to be addressed in order for them to be able to even go to potential education, to do something else. The children too - they've been traumatised in the early stages of their life. What else do they know, apart from war? Have they been given orientation enough to be able to integrate with the society, because they weren't integrated. They've been misused and they don’t even know this politician and what it means. It's not like getting corns and maize, and mix it together and say, "Now they integrate." Because one of them will be corns, the other one will be beans. It's not like that. It's a full realisation of the real problem and go to the roots of it, and be able to address it and let somebody recognize that they are part of the system. They're part of that community. Now, are Sudanese - do they really feel like they're part of Australia? My answer to that is yes, and it's no. It's yes for those who accept it, that this is their home, but it's no for those who are being put away, and it's not their homes. These are the reality that we're facing. So Sudanese are not completely being accepted in this light. You have seen from a lot of politicians making comment that, "We close the Sudanese, they're not coming back, no more Sudanese migrants to be accepted in Australia." All right, no more Sudanese migrant to be accepted in Australia. Why? Well, it's a discrimination, isn't it? But if you said, "I'll bring in somebody here, I'll give them opportunity or assign somebody to train them," they could become good citizens. But if you just come here and dump them, they will not be a good citizen, because they don’t know the value. They don’t even know the country. They don’t even know the national anthem of Australia. What is their children going to do? Are they going to learn the national anthem of Australia?

 

Louise:
So is that the policy at the minute, that no more Sudanese -

 

Deng:
There was the policy. There are policies in place that they're not accepting Sudanese refugees. They're only accepting those who are the [Uranian] process. I say we finish, the problem is over - it's not over, but I'm not saying that it's a good idea to bring Sudanese here. I'm not asking that. I'm not asking that. I'm actually saying, if you help these people here properly, they would be able to help their people back home. That's one option, because through education, making them better citizens, and then you are now making your hands - your name goes out as a good country. But if you're treating them differently, it's bad. I'll give you an example about what happened recently about what took place in Doonside, where there was involvement of a - some of them were described to be African appearance, who has committed serious assault on a girl in Doonside. Then they identify the girl as - even though we know that's the victim - they identified as belonging to a Pacific Island community. Why do we still use the word community, and identify victims and identify the culprit or the criminal, to their community? Shouldn't it be the other way around? Have we completely exhausted our intelligence? If we say this girl, she's the victim, the victim is 14 year old, or 15 year old or, 16 year old or not naming where they're coming from. Would it be not sufficient enough to safeguard the racial - I hate using the word racial because I don’t even believe in a race. We're one part of a single race, unless you say the word - it is a discrimination against human race or a part of the human race. That’s what I would argue. But I don’t agree with the racism. It doesn’t make sense to me. Yeah. It doesn’t make sense, one human race. So all this thing can be safeguarded by actually using a proper way, proper communication. But if we don’t do that, there will be backfire. Recently, you - have you seen that report? Nobody has seen a report that Sudanese have been targeted at the Blacktown. A kid was assaulted a couple of days ago, where somebody where somebody want to actually cut off his testicles. All these things, why did they do it? Have we seen those kind of report, even though it's a horrible crime, where the kid is still in the hospital now so far. We haven't seen that. We haven't even - the people that did it, we don’t even know them. But the initial crime was reported, because there is a motive, and the motive being a Sudanese, and the motive being what you would describe as aggravating factor, in that sense. So, make the media make everybody hate Sudanese - it's not nice. Nice way, to actually having the community together. I would say the same thing to my friend from the Sudanese community. I would say, "You don’t make a hole in the house where you are still living in it, because it's your house. If you put a hole through that wall, the owner of the house will not give a good report about you if you're moving out with your children afterward." So what I mean is, if we don’t conduct our affairs properly as a Sudanese in general, the bad thing will go outside without even our expert authority - will go to the public and the public will use it the way they want it, and it's not good, in our sight. So maybe it's a good idea that we have to make sure we take our affairs in our own hands, and address them in a manner that should not jeopardise our interest or the community interest at large. So.

 

Louise:
Does the community experience more racism or those kinds of situations when the press report on that?

 

Deng:
Yeah. Like I said, I don’t like to use the word racism, but I like to use being discriminated because of the background of that particular person. They do - they do experience such a rage and other discriminatory conducts from the police themselves, and also from the communities or bystanders. I remember clearly, I work - maybe I haven’t worked for a couple of years as soon as I came to Australia, but I've been working ever since. There was one incident where I was actually going to the beach with a few of my mate and this guy just walked there without anything, without a warning. He just said, "Go back home. What are you doing here? Get a job," and all these things, and I ignored him. He just keep coming toward me. Then I said, "Look mate, I got a job. Do you want to see my business card? I got a job." I got a job. Then he didn’t even believe me. He just calls me outrageous and I was angry, but I couldn’t do anything. So I walked away. He just kept following me. He wanted to provoke the situation. So I told my mate, "Look, don’t answer him. We'll get in the car." Then there were all these swearing words, all these bad things. We left. This is not the first time. You see that, people acting like that. You have situations where you can even be assaulted, but you just ignore it, because if you react to it, what will happen? You will become - if you don’t call the police first, because someone will call the police and will report it that it's the dark fellow who actually did that. Some of the African or Sudanese are normally saved by the CC footage, but usually the eyewitness is always even against it - against us, in a lot of sense. But I'm not saying everyone is acting the same way. There are people, even in my community, the people that would do exactly that if they don’t like somebody. So disliking somebody doesn’t mean that somebody is discriminating you, or for you that he's racist. Okay, I may not like you as a person. I may not like what you wear or how you dress, how you look, how tall you are, how short you are. I may not like you. But it doesn’t mean that I'm actually racist. It means that I just don’t like a part of you or a certain thing about you in general. But if the media goes ahead, and the whole community says, "We don’t like all these characteristics of Sudanese as a whole," then that's really good to say that. But if there are people like Andrew Bolt who went ahead and said, "Well, the door should be shut for this people. They shouldn’t even be here in this country." These people should be - you know, outrageous. I just asked him a question, what gives you a right to have a say? First of all, it's my country. I came here. I used as visa. I didn’t come here illegal. You were here another way - you need to tell me your background. How did you come here? Did your father get a visa like I did, or did your father come here illegally? If your father did exactly the same thing that I did, then I'm entitled to be here. If you did the opposite, then you should be packing your stuff and go away, because it's not your country. If I commit any crime, then I should be dealt with according to the law of this country, because there are laws, and we know them very well. What are they? Criminal law is very, very good, the best criminal law system in the whole world, to be precise. We deal with it. But to be able to demonise the whole community and say the crime was committed by the community is not right. It's incorrect, because I've never seen a community ever being driven, all of them, and put in prison. There's organised criminal enterprise, there's joined - or joined criminal enterprise, or people acting in concert, but these are the people acting together, and they have to prove that they were in it together; that they were doing it for their benefit together. But our community is not in that joined criminal enterprise. We're not in that joined business. We're separate, and if somebody commits a crime from my community or a Sudanese community or African community, then they should be dealt with just like other normal Australian; should be dealt with under the legal system. So, I always value the important of the legal system here, because it's quite just. But other reporters, even though they would classify themselves as intellectual people with clear knowledge about certain things, it's - I think they're wrong. Because even in my traditional setting, we still have that kind of legal system where, if you've jointly done something wrong together, then you're all in together. But if the family were not involved in it, then nobody should actually talk about the family, because we don’t own criminal. No family own or breed crimes. We should all reject anything like that. So I think maybe it will save the community face, or save the Australian face as well, in order to be able to understand how things operate in general.

 

Louise:

 

Deng:
Well, it took Australia 200 years to adjust into this country, and they haven’t fully adjusted, because that's why we still have indigenous issues. If they fully adjust, then we shouldn’t have indigenous people issues. So what I'm saying is, the recent migrants deserve a fair appreciation, that they are attempting to get through the system. If it takes them 200 years to get to the state where we are in today, then I will commend them for their hard work. But it requires patience. It requires somebody looking after you in that respect. I'm saying our farmers have helped us a lot - Australian farmers have helped this country to grow. Well, what do farmers do? They grow things. They don’t destroy things. So let's just look at into how the farmers work. Let's, Australia, the whole Australian country, become a country of the farmers, where they look after the new grown things, and not prune it out, all of it. So I'm encouraging Australians to be able to say, "Well, the new migrants should be accepted, nourished and then they will grow into full bloomed Australians," in that sense. But to be able to reject that, reject them, it's backfire, because they will not be able to manage to integrate; one, because you haven't accepted them, and two, what is the benefit? What is the purpose of integration when you don’t accept them? They have to be foremost in acceptance of the person, in order for that person to take that step to be acknowledged.

 

Louise:
Great. I'll ask a question that I ask most people that I interview that you've might have already covered, but I'll ask it again. Do you feel that you're connected to, like, the Australian culture, and what defines Australian culture for you?

 

Deng:
Well, I don’t know. I don't know. A lot of people would define Australian culture different. Maybe they will say, a barbeque on Saturday, beach. This is not true. These are people that are boring - they don’t know what it is, Australian culture. Australian culture, to me, is simple. It's giving somebody a fair go, and that has been what drives this country forward. That's Australian culture. It's a culture of helping another person. That is what I mean. It's not all those things that we do fancy. No. No, not at all. It's helping somebody else to realise their "Australianness" to be able to go outside in the world and say, "I'm Australian." You go to South Sudan, and they're Australian - whether they're South Sudanese, or they're Australian that are working there, they are actually together. You see them walking together, you see them talking together, eating together, speak Australian together. That is Australian way, because they don’t - Australian culture means a culture where there's no discriminations. You don’t discriminate, because you are Australian. That's what it is. So if we have that "Australianness" in us, then we shouldn’t have that community, that community - I would say, if we're coming back to try to subdivide the community, we say the Blacktown community, the Redfern community, Bankstown community. But rather, say African community, Sudanese community - that is not an Australian way. That's not an Australian culture. It doesn’t take us anywhere, and I know I said before I wrote some piece of paper, which is kind of weird for people - I wrote in a list, one side, left side of my list and right side of my list, things that can kill me, things that won't kill me. Things that will kill me, that's including Australia. If Australia goes to war, I go to war. That's clearly. Things that won't kill me, won't kill me, is pretty much the thing that are not part of Australia, because it won't kill me; I won't be involved. But if it has something to do with Australia, it would kill me, and that has to be connected to my identity, to be part of Sudanese as well. So I'm not clearing out that identity, but I had that list in place. It's weird - people look at it and say, "Why are you having it?" I say, "Well, you've got to have something sometimes." So why do you have them? Why do you have them there, those things that can kill you? I say, "Well, so that I know how to avoid them, so that they won't kill me."

 

Louise:
You spoke about Australian identity as a fairness and helping out and giving people a go. When you arrived here, do you think that those values are still at the same level as when you first arrived?

 

Deng:
No. When I came here, I was treated like a king. I had everything that I'd want. I'll go to train station and ask somebody, and they will not be able to use swearing words against me. I was just being helped, because they know that you need help. They're not going to point you the wrong direction. But now they'll point you the wrong direction. So where is Bankstown terminal? I might go to the east, and it's not going to the right place, it's the wrong place. I mean that in the sense that there is - I blame the whole thing on the media and the new politician that has lost the values, but they just want to stay in the office for the sake of it, or they just want to stay there so that they can - they're getting benefit from that. I don’t blame the whole community for that. It's just that power that a few individuals are using it for - in detriment to the minority group. So that's pretty much about it, but yeah.

 

Louise:
So is there anything else you wanted to talk about or you didn’t mention?

 

Deng:
Well, no. I don’t think I need to talk about anything. I'm just happy to be Australian. I'm happy to be in this country. I am who I am, because if I was in the country I was born, I would never have a say, and I would never even go to school or primary school at all. I would be just a fisherman and growing crops along the Nile River or I could be dead now. That's the most important. I could be dead if I was still there, and I know I could be dead, because I don’t think so many people like me are still alive today. I know it very well. So that's the important thing about being Australian, and maybe because being given an opportunity, a fair chance, a fair go, I always love to give it back to other people that want it. If they want my help, or because I never stop asking for help, if anybody want my help, I'll do exactly the same thing. Especially the refugee that felt like they don’t belong here - well, they may not belong here because they actually - they are affected about whatever is taking place in their life. But generally, there are millions and millions of Australian that are there. So if one turns a blind eye against you, turn to another one. There's millions, and you always find a friend. Of course, even in your own family, you have people that hate your guts. They don’t like you, they don’t like your existence, so why do you expect more from a stranger? So, think about it. If it's a stranger telling you something bad, then treat them as just like your brother or sister saying the bad thing. If a stranger says something good to you, you take that very well, because that's the most important thing because they're not lying to you. So there are millions of strangers there who are Australian that would be able to help you out. That's what I could say.

 

Louise:
Great. Thank you so much.

 

Deng:
Thank you.

 

[End of Interview 3 of 3]