At her home in Sydney, Sarah* is caught in a balancing act. The juggle between raising a toddler, work, learning to drive and paying the bills has been a fight.
Despite the challenges, Sarah is winning that battle. She is celebrating the recent achievement of becoming a disability support worker, a goal she had been trying to reach for more than a year.
While that balance is being experienced by many in Australia, especially during the COVID-19 pandemic, Sarah is simultaneously reconciling with her past.
Her history is so significant that getting a job isn’t her only success, she’s also celebrating her survival.
Sarah’s story
Sarah had been with her girlfriend for seven years and they were deeply in love. She was her friend, a confidant and someone who she could always lean on.
“She was my partner,” Sarah said.
It was the sort of romance and companionship that most crave to experience in their lives. And although Sarah had it, their love was a secret.
Sarah is from Sierra Leone, an African country that still outlaws same-sex relationships between men, and although lesbian relationships aren’t technically outlawed, Sarah explains that it’s culturally forbidden.
“It's something that our country is against.”
The pair appeared in public as friends but were lovers behind closed doors, until a neighbour walked in on them one morning and saw them kissing. It was a scandal. The neighbour told a few people, they told others.
“I was in fear because of the reaction from my family and the community. I asked my partner, what do you want us to do?”
Sarah and her girlfriend's relationship was a secret. Source: Dateline/Jono Delbridge
Sarah’s girlfriend said she wanted to live openly. While she was reluctant, Sarah agreed.
Trying to live normally, one evening after the incident, Sarah’s girlfriend went to a party.
“I stayed at home and I was asleep. At around 3 am I had a call. She was shouting, they were beating her,” she said.
Sarah’s girlfriend was targeted while walking home from the party.
“And in that particular area, I couldn’t save her, because our situation had already been exposed.”
Sarah’s girlfriend was killed that night. It was the greatest pain she had experienced. But the worst challenges were to come.
After her girlfriend's death, Sarah says she was routinely arbitrarily detained. While in prison, she was beaten and raped by officers.
Sarah says her life was in danger as she was repeatedly targeted and assaulted. A friend, who was secretly gay, knew of Sarah’s situation and arranged a job for her at the Gold Coast Commonwealth Games in 2018.
“After the Games, I decided not to go back to Sierra Leone, because when I left there, it was horrible for me.
“Instead, I have to find my way in Australia.”
Sarah was one of 230 athletes and officials at the Games who stayed in Australia and applied for asylum.
She travelled to Sydney and made her way to a Salvation Army centre that helped her with food and temporary accommodation. While at the centre, she became sick and a pastor sent for a pregnancy test.
“And then she said, Sarah*, ‘take this test and then come back’. I said, ‘okay’ because I didn't have any experience [with pregnancy tests]. So I did exactly what she said. And then it came out two lines.
“And then I brought it to her. And then she said, ‘Sarah, do you know that you are pregnant?’”
Sarah had never had consensual sex with a man and when she explained the abuse she received in prison, the pastor explained that was how she became pregnant.
Community help in dire circumstances
During her pregnancy, she met Sydney social worker Nasiba Akram, who has been providing support through Host International, an organisation that supports migrants and refugees.
Sarah says Nasiba, along with other community supporters, helped her survive this moment.
“She said, ‘Don't worry, I will help you’. And then she started giving me the hope,” Sarah said.
“Whenever she knew I needed something or she had few things for me, she would call me or she will send someone to drop it off.”
Before she gave birth, the funding to an asylum seeker program that helped subsidise her rent was cut.
“But because we couldn't pay the rent we were asked to leave. And during that time I was about to give birth.
“The following week, I went into labour.”
When she gave birth, she spent eight days in the hospital because she was homeless. Eventually, she found accommodation, with Nasiba’s help. Through community donations, Nasiba helped arrange a pram, cot, bassinet, nappies, blankets, clothing baby, wipes and food vouchers.
“I didn't plan to have a daughter at this time. Without any achievements, without any proper foundation.
“Nasiba stood by me, she stood by me through all of this. And every day my daughter grows up, I love her more each day.”
Hope for the future
Sarah is determined to make a better life for her daughter, while still confronting her experiences in Sierra Leone.
Months after the birth of her daughter, Sarah began studying at Health Services Assistance at TAFE, while trying to find childcare and learning how to drive.
At the end of last year, she achieved a personal goal of finding employment in disability care.
“It has not been easy. I only go through this, not by my own strength but by the people around me and the people of Australia who come to my aid. They are people who I can lean on for my daughter.”
More than three years after her arrival in Australia, Sarah remains on a bridging visa, awaiting the outcome of her application for asylum.
Sarah hopes to build a life in Australia. Source: Dateline/Jono Delbridge
“I don’t know my fate and it worries me,” she said.
“I'm just praying that they will let us stay in Australia and be a citizen. Because for me and my daughter, this is the only place can live a life of freedom.”
“In the future, I want my daughter to work under the Australian Government and maybe become a doctor or a lawyer, or anybody that can help others in the society to be on their feet.
“That is my own hope for the future.”
*Sarah is not her real name
If this story brings up issues for you, there’s always someone you can talk to at on 13 11 14 or on 1300 22 46 36. You can call 1800 Respect and
