Moving to Australia

While studying in a refugee camp, I didn’t know about Australia. Back then, I was familiar with New Zealand because they donated pens and other educational resources to us in the primary schools in the camp. The other children and I were curious about New Zealand, so we would read any books we could find about the country. However, I didn’t know New Zealand was a small island off the coast of Australia. I first learned about Australia when I went to Kenya in 2001. Australia had begun actively assisting in humanitarian refugee programs in Kenya, resettling many refugees from the Kakuma refugee camp. However, I knew very little about Australia and its people compared to what I knew about New Zealand and Canada. At the start of 2003, I was given the opportunity to resettle in Australia with my uncle, but I declined and chose to go to Canada through the WUSC program. This was partly because of my lack of knowledge about Australia, but I was mainly motivated by the opportunity to study at university.

Before I travelled to Canada, my uncle’s family and other people I knew from the Kakuma refugee camp were resettled in Australia. I reconnected with my uncle and others who had resettled from Kakuma in Australia when I got to Canada. During this time, I started to read more about Australia, its people, culture, geography, and wildlife. I was fascinated by the history of Australia’s first peoples and the unique wildlife on the continent. My uncle and other Sudanese people I knew from the Kakuma refugee camp who were resettled in Australia also spoke highly about Australia. However, when I first landed at Adelaide Airport in 2010 to start my Master’s in Public Health, Adelaide felt very small and modestly developed. The airport looked as if it was situated in the middle of a desert, surrounded by dry and reddish ground. I was taken aback – this was not like the images I had imagined.

In Adelaide, I initially lived with my “aunt”, my father’s first cousin. I soon found Adelaide to be a lovely place. On my first day at the university, I went to a bus stop to wait for a bus. A bus came and passed without stopping, and I thought it was not meant to stop there, so I kept waiting. Then another bus came and also passed by. Four buses went by without stopping, and no one else arrived at the bus stop while I was waiting. A postman came by and said, “G’day”. I didn’t know this was a greeting in Australia, so I replied, “You too, sir, have a good day”. I was surprised that people in Australia would wish someone they didn’t know a good day. In Toronto, where I lived, people rarely said “good morning” to strangers, let alone wished each other a good day. This experience at the bus stop made me feel that Australians are open to talking to people they don’t know, like how we interacted in our village before the war. When another person approached, I quickly said “good morning” to him, and they replied without hesitation. I then asked if they knew where I could catch a bus since four had just passed without stopping. The person informed me that I needed to hail the bus. I looked around for a sign indicating that I needed to do so, and there it was, “hail the bus”, perched on top of a pole high above the bus stop. In Toronto, buses would stop at every assigned location without being hailed. I was used to catching a bus without that extra step. After that, I caught buses every day without any issues.

Postgraduate study in Australia (and a romance)

In the Master’s in Public Health program, I was surprised to find that most of my classmates were international students. There were only about three domestic students, and they seemed disinterested in the international students. However, many of the international students engaged with one another, and developed strong connections. All the international students in the program were from Asia, and I had classmates from Indonesia, China, Nepal, Singapore, and Malaysia. We spent our Friday nights doing karaoke, and participating in typical university social activities.

While doing my Master of Public Health, I joined a student club that mentored young refugee high school students in Adelaide, particularly from the Elizabeth area. Elizabeth was one of the most disadvantaged local government areas and had a high population of humanitarian migrants, due to the affordability of housing. Unfortunately, many residents in this area faced issues such as unemployment, overcrowding, and various other social challenges. I felt a genuine sense of responsibility to support these young people by being available to answer any questions they might have about university life, and what it’s like to be a student. I also volunteered for the African Community Council in South Australia on an older persons’ research project being conducted in the community. Through this volunteer work, I made networks with and connections to several community-based organisations.

The same year I started my Master’s program at the University of Adelaide, I met Suzan. She was studying for an undergraduate degree at the University of South Australia. Talking to Suzan, I realised that she did not like makeup, wearing high heels, partying, and spending time away from home. She wanted a unique and simple life that would not be defined by “the model” of this world but by her character and values. She had a vision of how she wanted to live her life, what she valued and the kind of education she wanted. I fell in love and started a relationship with Suzan. Although Suzan’s family and my close relatives knew about our relationship, we did not want the wider Sudanese community to know about it so that our relationship would not become a topic of discussion within the community. We limited the time we spent together to keep our relationship a secret from the community.

Making ends meet: Fruit picking in Queensland

During the December 2010 to March 2011 holidays, I went to Brisbane and worked as a fruit picker with my uncle’s wife and others. I found it difficult to drive every morning from Brisbane to work on the farm and come back to Brisbane every evening. I realised that I could backpack and work in the local farming community without having to commute every day from my uncle’s home in Brisbane. I proposed the idea of backpacking to other men with whom we worked with, and they agreed as it saved money on petrol and time from the daily commute. We bought camping gear, work shoes, work clothing, and knee pads, and set off across Australia, going fruit picking. We took turns driving and contributed money for petrol. We worked in many farming towns across Queensland, Victoria, New South Wales, and South Australia. We set up tents in caravan parks and paid for using the caravan site, water and hot shower facilities. We worked from 6:30 a.m. until 7:00 p.m. every day, except Saturday and Sunday. In a day, one could fill three bins. For pears and oranges, filling a bin was paid $90. For onions, if one worked fast, they could fill four bins a day at $120 per bin. Some experienced workers used to fill more than four bins a day.

Fruit picking was dangerous, especially when it involved working at heights using a ladder. I witnessed workers fall and get injured while rushing to work fast and earn more money. But, due to the casual nature of fruit picking, there was no sick leave, insurance cover, or accountability for workplace injuries. Despite this, we travelled to Tasmania for cherry picking after finishing work in Queensland, New South Wales, South Australia, and Victoria. Unfortunately, when we arrived in Tasmania, heavy rain fell and damaged all the cherries. I backpacked around Australia until I travelled to Adelaide at the beginning of March 2011 for the second year of my Master’s program. During this time, I felt a connection to nature and sometimes lived off the grid, just as I did in our village.

Completing my Master’s and working in rural public health

I completed and graduated from my Master’s program in 2011. On my graduation day, Suzan could not attend my graduation event because doing so would expose our relationship. I had to sneak away from the many community members who were at my graduation to take a photo with her in a secret place we had previously agreed to. We could not walk together or hold hands. We didn’t go out for dinner together like other people. I discreetly went with Suzan for dinner once when my classmates from Singapore, Nepal, and Indonesia were going back home after finishing their graduate program.

After graduating, I worked as a community health coordinator in Adelaide with one of the community-based organisation. While working in this position, I completed a Certificate IV in Training and Assessment, which is necessary to be able to work in the vocational education and training sector in Australia. Splitting my community work time into two, I started teaching community services and health promotion programs at Australia’s Institute of Social Relations. I liked what I was doing in health promotion and decided to seek an opportunity to work part-time with the country Health South Australia in mid-north South Australia as a health promotion coordinator. I worked with the Rural Health Team in Booleroo Centre, a small farming town outside Port Pirie. Although I was based in Booleroo Centre, my work areas spanned across mid-north South Australia, including Peterborough, Orroroo, Jamestown, and Gladstone. I would work three days one week and two days the next, splitting my time between my role at Booleroo Centre and the community work in Adelaide. Working in Adelaide allowed me to visit Suzan at their home and be close to her. I liked what I was doing in the mid-north and my balanced career life. Mid-north South Australia is an important agricultural region. I was told then that the region experienced a severe drought several years ago, which resulted in failed crops and livestock losses. Additionally, there had been a notable demographic shift as the younger generation had chosen to relocate to urban areas, leaving older family members to carry on the family legacy. This generational migration, combined with the detrimental effects of the drought, had had a substantial impact on the social and mental well-being of the community.

Our rural health program was funded by the Australian federal government to revitalise the community and contribute to preventative health. We adopted an all-hands-on-deck approach, focusing not only on health promotion but also on community development. Our work included creating opportunities for older people, farmers, and the general community to reconnect with each other. We organised a community triathlon event with the local schools. We sought government grants to build community gyms and men’s sheds, established community cycling programs, provided bicycles for community use, offered dietetics programs for older persons in aged care facilities, conducted diabetes prevention and prostate cancer awareness information and testing programs in partnership with the local clinical team, collaborated with Breast Screen services to promote breast screening among women in the region, provided information and awareness on healthy eating, collaborated with the local grocery store to improve fresh produce inventory in the region, offered mental health services and counselling, worked with schools to ensure healthy canteens and reduce the sale of sugary drinks, and collaborated with the local hospital to support local workforce development through participation in the graduate program.

However, when the Australian Government cut funding for health promotion programs across the country at the time, it had a big impact on our community work. We were informed that our rural health promotion program would not receive further funding once the then-funding period ended in about 12 months. This caused a lot of anxiety and concern about the future of our program, especially considering the structure of the Australian healthcare system, in which primary and preventative healthcare falls under federal government responsibility.

Returning to Canada: The end of the Australian dream?

The news about the discontinuation of our program’s funding came when I had already scheduled to go on leave to Canada in March 2013. Before travelling to Canada for my annual leave, I asked the management team to continue providing me with updates regarding the Australian Federal Government’s announcement of discontinuing funding for our program.

Before I went back to Canada, I informed my uncle about my relationship with Suzan, and he even spoke with her on the phone a couple of times. I also introduced Suzan to my aunt in Adelaide. The day I left for Canada, Suzan and her siblings came to the airport so that community members would not suspect our relationship. There were also other Sudanese community members who accompanied me to the airport. I took pictures together with Suzan and her siblings and shook hands, but there was no hugging and no expressions of emotions. Suzan and I had a 14-hour time difference. When I was supposed to be at work, Suzan was awake and often wanted to keep chatting. It was difficult for me, but I would tell her that my work hours were up and that I needed to go. Reluctantly, she would agree and ask me to let her know when I got back from work. However, due to the time difference, I often didn’t follow through on my promise because I didn’t want to wake her up. Sensing that I might not call, Suzan would sometimes reach out to me early in the morning on my phone.

While in Canada, I received news that there was also no funding from the state government to continue what we were doing. Considering this development, I decided not to return to Australia and resigned from my work. There were moments of uncertainty about what would happen to my relationship with Suzan. We had heard people talk about the difficulty of long-distance relationships, but we agreed to continue talking on Skype regularly. Since we know each other so well, we talked like siblings. Sometimes, we would spend the whole conversation talking about things that didn’t even have anything to do with our relationship. Once it became clear that I was not returning to Australia, I phoned my former employer in the pharmaceutical company in April 2013 to ask for a temporary position. Luckily, they had a night-time position in quality assurance, which I started immediately. I would work at night and search for a role in health promotion during the day.

In May 2013, I left my temporary work with the pharmaceutical company and started working as a health promotion coordinator in the Niagara region of Canada. I worked in the areas of blood-borne viruses such as human immunodeficiency virus (HIV), hepatitis B virus, and hepatitis C virus, but our team used a holistic approach. We provided supported accommodation for individuals experiencing homelessness and living with HIV, assisting them with transportation to their clinical appointments and helping them collect their anti-retroviral drugs. We also referred clients to government-funded employment agencies to assist them in finding jobs. Many of the people we assisted had difficulty finding and keeping jobs due to their lifestyle choices, but with our support, they were able to do so.

We offered needle exchange programs, where individuals who inject drugs could come and exchange their used needles for clean ones. Due to the criminalised nature of drug use, we established a specific phone line exclusively for people who inject drugs. People who inject drugs would call between 7 p.m. and 10 p.m., requesting our van to deliver clean needles. A clinical nurse joined our team to provide on-the-spot blood tests and other health-preventative clinical services after people who inject drugs trusted our services. Additionally, we collaborated with local government environmental health offices to set up syringe disposal boxes, allowing individuals to safely dispose of their used needles. During this time, there was a rise in opioid overdose deaths in the region. To prevent these deaths, we provided free naloxone to people who inject drugs and trained them to administer it to their friends in case of overdose. As injecting drug use is a social activity, individuals were able to save lives within their social network by preventing opioid-related overdose deaths.

As the Niagara region is a popular tourist destination, we provided free condoms to sex workers to prevent sexually transmitted diseases, including HIV. Additionally, we offered integrated social services to our clients, including counselling, case management, and referrals to other social services in the community. Our services were considered a model for health promotion in the region and received strong support from the local government and community. I loved my job in the Niagara region and was committed to continue doing it despite the challenge of different time zones between Suzan and me.

Keeping the flames of romance burning

While I was in Canada, I sent Suzan postcards showcasing its beautiful landscapes. I also took pictures during one of the heavy snowstorms and sent them to her. She was surprised by how people live in Canada. One day, she asked why, if life in Canada was so miserable, I couldn’t just come to Australia. I told her that snow has its own charm and is one of the wonders of the world that only a few places can offer. I explained how snow can bring families together – building snowmen/snowwomen, engaging in snowball fights, or enjoying winter sports. I would go outside so Suzan could see the snow when we FaceTimed each other. During that year in Canada, we spent a lot of time discussing the weather and how it affected life.

We didn’t know when we would meet again. The most likely scenario was that I would visit Australia. Traditionally, a girl would not leave her father’s home to visit a boy at his home. In our traditional culture, there were clear guidelines and boundaries regarding what boys and girls could do in a relationship. While some of these have been relaxed due to the influence of Western cultures, there are still boundaries to observe, especially when a boy and a girl are in a serious relationship. In this context, a serious relationship means that both individuals and their extended families are acquainted with one another.

However, I was fortunate to receive an offer from La Trobe University in January 2014 stating that I had been given a scholarship for my PhD. When I shared the news with Suzan, she was elated and advised that I should accept the offer and return to Australia. However, I weighed the options between employment and studying again with much thought and reflection through reading self-help books. I chose to study. Although La Trobe University was based in Melbourne, I negotiated to live in Adelaide if I were to accept the offer. I calculated that due to the community-based nature of my research project and my established connections with community-based organisations and members in South Australian communities, it would be easier for me to collect my data. It was a gamble that paid off. Also, Suzan lived in Adelaide, so returning to Adelaide made perfect sense. La Trobe University agreed for me to live in Adelaide while doing my PhD. I accepted the offer letter and returned to Australia in February 2014.

Getting married

Upon returning to Australia from Canada for my PhD, I sought a visit with my uncle and his wife in Brisbane to share my intention to marry Suzan and to seek their blessing. In our culture, my uncle and his wife have taken on parental roles in my life, meaning that any significant decision I make must be presented to them for their approval. They were thrilled by my choice, expressing their happiness as they had been worried about my singular focus on my education. My uncle’s wife particularly conveyed her joy at the prospect of me starting a family. In our culture, a house without a woman is not regarded as a true home, and a man is often perceived as lacking a genuine home, regardless of his societal status, if he does not have a partner. Among the Madi people, there are three primary forms of marriage:

1. Elopement: This occurs when the groom arrives at night to elope with the bride after they have mutually agreed to be together. He brings along friends, and they make a swift escape with the bride.

2. Pregnancy Before Marriage: In this circumstance, if a woman becomes pregnant prior to marriage, she is escorted by her friends and relatives to the man’s home. The woman is then regarded as the wife of the man who is responsible for the pregnancy; and

3. Formal Proposal: The most accepted and traditional method entails the man visiting the woman’s parents to request permission to marry their daughter. This approach requires careful planning and preparation, serving as a symbolic gesture of respect for the bride’s family, which in turn earns the groom their respect.

Many parents prefer that their daughters introduce potential partners at home for formal marriage discussions when they feel ready. Although my uncle and his wife consented to my request to marry Suzan, I needed to secure employment before getting engaged, all while pursuing my PhD. Fortunately, I found a position as a public health officer in disease surveillance and investigation with the Department of Health in South Australia in August 2014. In December 2014, Suzan and I got engaged in a traditional manner. Unlike in Western culture, where proposals typically involve just the couple, our engagement included both families coming together to discuss our commitment to each other. This involved an extensive night-long discussion, and the payment of a bride price to Suzan’s family.

Traditionally, the meeting of the two families and the bride price would suffice for our marriage. However, we chose to blend our cultural traditions with Western customs. After the traditional discussions, I placed an engagement ring on Suzan’s finger in front of community members who came to witness our commitment as a symbol of my dedication to her. The celebration included food, drinks, and dancing, making our relationship public. Despite this, Suzan continued living at her family home while we planned our wedding, allowing her to complete her undergraduate degree while I finished my PhD. I frequently visited Suzan, and she would also come to my apartment, which I shared with two of my first cousins. Between 2015 and 2017, while working on my PhD, I also served as a sessional lecturer in public health at Flinders University and worked part-time with the Department of Health. We got married in December 2016, before completing our studies.

After six months of marriage, I moved to Canberra to take up a full-time public health officer role in July 2017. I submitted my thesis in September 2018, and Suzan relocated to Canberra in December 2018. In Canberra, Suzan got a job in the same office where I worked but in a different team. Soon, we were expecting our first child. In May 2019, we attended Suzan’s graduation and then travelled to Melbourne the same month to attend my graduation. It was a proud moment for both of us to graduate as a couple in the presence of my uncle and Suzan’s parents. I was fortunate to secure a two-year contract as a public health lecturer at Central Queensland University on the Sydney campus in July 2019. We relocated to Sydney from Canberra. This opportunity allowed me to realise my dreams of contributing to society through teaching and learning.

Managing a family tragedy and a stressful new arrival

However, one month after our relocation to Sydney from Canberra, there was a tragedy in the family that made us rush to it in South Australia. With many people coming to the house in South Australia over several days, Suzan worked all day to help serve them while being heavily pregnant. After more than a week in Adelaide, we returned to Sydney. That same evening, Suzan’s water broke. I rushed her to the hospital, but they sent us home because she wasn’t showing any signs of labour. We were advised to return after 24 hours if labour hadn’t started. Although the baby was full term, it was still expected to be four weeks before the actual birth.

Since we hadn’t fully prepared for the arrival of our baby – only having the crib and a few essentials – we realised we needed linen, clothes, soap, and all the necessary items for a newborn. That night, we went shopping together. By the time we returned home to our apartment, it was around 4 a.m. I spent that night and the following day setting up the baby’s bed and ensuring we had everything ready for the arrival of our baby. In the evening, I took Suzan back to the hospital because her labour still hadn’t started.

When we arrived at the hospital, Suzan was induced. By around 2 p.m., she was struggling to tolerate the pain, and the baby still hadn’t arrived. They administered an epidural to help with the discomfort. We waited until 5 p.m., but the baby still hadn’t arrived. At that point, the doctors became concerned about the baby’s oxygen levels. They made an incision on the baby’s head to test the oxygen levels. Afterwards, the doctors proposed using a vacuum to assist in delivering the baby. I encouraged Suzan to make her own decision, as she understood her body best at that moment. She ultimately refused the vacuum procedure. I suggested that she try pushing the baby out by moving her stomach in a wave-like motion. After she waved her stomach twice, the baby was delivered. However, the baby was not breathing. A senior doctor rushed in, quickly picked up the baby, turned him upside down, and gently patted his back. After several attempts, the baby showed signs of life. The doctor placed the baby on a tray and rushed to the infant intensive care unit. I followed the doctor there. Suzan was not in the intensive care unit; she was in the birthing unit, being attended to by other nurses.

The baby’s head had swollen. It was unclear whether the swelling on his head was due to the incision made to draw blood for testing oxygen levels or if it was related to a health condition. I was more concerned about the swelling than about the baby being in the intensive care unit. Given my background in epidemiology and studying human diseases, I suspected it might be subgaleal haemorrhage – a rare but serious accumulation of blood in the space between the scalp and the skull. I asked a nurse if the baby had a subgaleal haemorrhage, and she expressed her concern about it as well. However, a senior nurse arrived, examined the baby, and said it was not a subgaleal haemorrhage. She explained that the swelling in the baby’s head might be due to the birthing process. While this explanation provided me with some comfort, I was still worried. I had planned to spend the entire night by the baby’s side in the intensive care unit, but the nurse asked me to leave when she noticed I wasn’t going to go home that night.

When they asked me to leave, I returned to find Suzan and inform her that the baby was okay, despite being monitored with vital signs and receiving intravenous fluids. However, I expressed my concern about the swelling of the baby’s head. I took some photos of the swollen head and showed them to Suzan. She requested that I not send any of the photos to anyone, including her parents, to prevent them from panicking. Whenever people called to check on us, we assured them that both Suzan and the baby were okay. However, when Suzan’s mother arrived the next day, she discovered that the baby was still in the intensive care unit. The baby spent four days there. During that time, I remained at the hospital, regularly feeding and visiting the baby from Suzan’s ward. Fortunately, the swelling in the baby’s head had reduced by the time he was moved to a regular ward. After a few days there, we were finally discharged and sent home. Our baby was healthy, which was a big relief for us both.

Stressful events

After the traumatic beginning, we were hopeful for a relaxing time adjusting to our new family situation. However, this was not to be. Soon after that, the COVID-19 pandemic struck, leading to strict travel restrictions. Most of the students I was teaching at that time were pursuing a Master’s degree in Public Health, and they were all international students from Asia. With the restrictions on international travel and the closure of borders due to COVID-19, our program saw a significant decline in student enrolment, raising concerns about its viability without international students. I began to worry about the implications this would have for the renewal of my contract and how it would affect my ability to support my family. In the past, when I was on my own, I wouldn’t have worried about such issues because I managed to get by. However, as I now had a family, the situation was more complicated, and I could not afford to be without a job.

In 2021, a colleague who previously taught epidemiology for the undergraduate public health program at Central Queensland University in Cairns changed jobs. The position was advertised as a continuing role, and I applied for it and ultimately emerged successful. I relocated my family to Cairns in February 2021 while expecting our second child in mid-July 2021. During her pregnancy with our second child, Suzan gained a lot of weight, which made everyone concerned about the delivery, and there were more regular visits to the doctor’s office than would normally required in routine maternity care. Luckily, the birth went smoothly, which was a big relief for me after the trauma of our first child’s delivery. Suzan started labour around 9 a.m., and when I took her to the hospital while our first child was in childcare, a nurse checked her and said she wasn’t ready and wanted to send us home. Fortunately, a senior nurse intervened and determined that Suzan was indeed ready for labour. They set up a bed and admitted us to a birth suite. Two hours later, at around 11 a.m., Suzan gave birth to our second child. By that evening, both Suzan and the baby were discharged, and we returned home.

In the middle of the pandemic, many childcare centres stopped operating. We hired a babysitter to help babysit our two children while Suzan and I worked. Suzan worked as a scientist in a pathology laboratory, and during the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic, I was asked to assist Queensland Health as a senior epidemiologist. For about eight months, I contributed to epidemiological data analysis while maintaining a reduced teaching workload. This arrangement allowed me to network with individuals from the health department and secure collaborative research grants. I employed a post-doctoral research fellow to work on my research grants and mentored several research students.

In November 2022, we had our third child. While Suzan didn’t gain as much weight as was the case with our second child, the birth was more challenging. Suzan started feeling labour pains in the morning, and I took her to the hospital around 10 a.m. However, we waited for some time, and there were no signs that she was ready for delivery. When it was time for me to pick up the other children from childcare around 5 p.m., I asked the nurse to break Suzan’s water to expedite the process. After that, I left to collect our two children from childcare. I was confident that Suzan wouldn’t have the baby before I returned, especially since her water had just been broken. However, when we got back, our third child had already been born, and the umbilical cord had been cut. I was saddened because I missed the chance to cut my baby’s cord, but I was relieved that both Suzan and the baby were safe. The two children were thrilled to meet their new sibling. Suzan and the baby were discharged home the same day. After Suzan’s maternity leave ended, we enrolled our three children in full-time childcare.

A developing academic career

In 2023, I received a Quiet Achiever award and was promoted to a Senior Lecturer position. Although I loved my job, the beautiful nature around Cairns, and the convenient location of everything, I found the heat unbearable. After two years in my role there, I could no longer tolerate it. I started feeling increasingly paranoid about the risk of cyclones and the global geopolitical situation, which worried me regarding the safety of my family. I also considered what raising my children in Cairns would mean for their access to quality education and career opportunities. On 13 December 2023, Ex-Tropical Cyclone Jasper hit Cairns, leading to flooding and transportation disruptions in the area. Although our house was not flooded, and there was no damage from the winds, we lost power. The humidity was unbearable without air conditioning.

Following the cyclone, I decided that it was time for me to leave Cairns and relocate to Canberra. When a senior lecturer position became available at the University of Canberra, I applied and was fortunate enough to be successful. I then moved my family to Canberra in February 2024, and we were expecting our fourth child. Suzan and I enrolled all three children in full-time childcare, while we both worked. However, to suit my family situation, the workload of lecturing was untenable, and I had to change jobs after one semester at the University of Canberra. I moved to work for the Australian Capital Territory (ACT) Government Department of Health as an Assistant Director in health services planning.

Shortly after, while finishing the writing of this book, we welcomed our fourth child. Like our third child, I missed cutting the cord. I had to return with the other three children at home after rushing Suzan to the hospital when the time came to have our fourth baby. Although I didn’t get to experience our fourth baby’s birth, I was relieved that both Suzan and the baby separated safely. They were discharged home after the birth.

Balancing family, work, and academic life

With four children and no support from other family members, Suzan and I shoulder everything. And as there are no relatives, wherever we go, we go with our children. My children are everything to me. Despite the lack of family support, we live happily together. They are loving, and caring children. They know about my background and have begun asking a lot of questions about my life as a child. They are my priority right now so that they can have a life I didn’t have – that is the least I can give them. Through the WUSC program, I’ve managed to break the cycle of dependency on humanitarian rations in a refugee camp. I now need to instill strong values and virtues in my children to help them make positive contributions to society when they grow up.

Since seeking solace in education in the Agojo Refugee Camp in Uganda, my journey has been marked by significant achievements that reflect resilience, dedication, commitment, and milestones that have shaped my life and aspirations. After completing my primary education in the refugee camp, I was fortunate to secure a scholarship for a place in a boarding high school, which allowed me to further my academic ambitions. This opportunity was a turning point in my life. I dedicated myself to my studies, often staying up late to complete assignments and prepare for exams. My hard work paid off, and I graduated with commendable grades, which opened doors for further educational opportunities.

Upon finishing my O-Level studies in Uganda, I decided to travel to Kenya, with the goal of seeking opportunity to pursue higher education. Arriving in Kakuma refugee camp presented its own challenges, but I embraced them. The environment was harsh, with extreme heat and limited access to resources, but I remained committed to my education. I enrolled in advanced English course within the camp and while teaching in a primary school. This not only helped me to develop written English skills but also fostered a sense of community empowerment, as I contributed to education and learning for refugee students who shared similar experiences of displacement.

Realising the significance of education as a tool for empowerment, I sought scholarship opportunities to continue my studies beyond high school. Through perseverance, I was selected through the WUSC program that allowed me to attend a university in Canada, where I pursued a degree in Pharmaceutical Sciences and Human Biology. My academic journey at the University of Toronto enriched my understanding of human diseases and health issues facing displaced populations, which fuelled my passion for further education and interest in public health.

In addition to my academic achievements, I became involved in various community initiatives aimed at supporting other refugees. I volunteered with the WUSC local committee that provided mentorship and educational support to younger refugee students at the University of Toronto. This experience not only helped me give back to my community but also inspired many to believe in their potential, despite adverse circumstances.

Over the years, I have also worked with several NGOs focusing on community health, advocating for better living conditions and access to healthcare. My experiences have equipped me with the knowledge and skills needed to engage in meaningful dialogue about the challenges refugees face, and to connect with broader audiences on these issues as I have done through my advocacy work.

Through hard work, resilience, and a commitment to my goals, I have built a life that reflects hope and determination. From the struggles in Uganda, to Kenya, and Canada, I have transformed my experiences into powerful stories that not only speak to my journey but also serve as a source of inspiration for others who face similar challenges.

In 2010, I embarked on a transformative journey from Canada to Australia to do Master’s program in Public Health at the University of Adelaide, motivated by a strong desire to create positive change in the community. Graduating in 2011, my academic journey was deeply influenced by my commitment to improving health outcomes, particularly in communities that often face significant challenges. This experience not only shaped my professional aspirations, but also instilled in me a profound understanding of the importance of accessible healthcare for underserved populations.

Following my graduation, I took on the role of community health coordinator, where I played a pivotal role in health promotion and community development. I expanded my qualifications by obtaining a Certificate IV in Training and Assessment, equipping me with the skills necessary to teach vocational courses for aspiring health promotion professionals. My professional journey led me to the Mid-North region of South Australia, where I worked as a health promotion coordinator. In this role, I contributed to addressing critical health issues arising from the social and environmental context of the Mid-North region, successfully implementing health initiatives that benefited the local community.

Throughout my academic and professional pursuits, I maintained a significant relationship with Suzan, navigating the complexities of cultural courtship. Also, I received a scholarship to pursue a PhD at La Trobe University, marking a pivotal moment in my academic career. This opportunity allowed me to advance knowledge in public health, while remaining close to Suzan in Adelaide. My engagement and plans for marriage showcased my ability to balance traditional values with contemporary practices.

While I made a significant leap in my education and career, my personal life was shaped by both joy and sorrow, including the birth of our children and the tragic loss of a family member. Despite these challenges, I demonstrated unwavering support for my family, particularly during critical moments like the hospitalisation of our newborn child. Amid the COVID-19 pandemic, I was faced with the experience of balancing my professional responsibilities with family life.

Recognising the need for a fresh start during the pandemic, I made the significant decision to relocate my family to Cairns. This move was motivated by a desire for job security and the opportunity enhance my academic career. While in Cairns, I remained committed to supporting communities and contributed to COVID-19 epidemiological data analysis and reporting in the Far North Queensland. I advocated for public health protection and appeared on several media outlets to disseminate information to the community about the pandemic, fostering a sense of community contribution and civic participation.

Today, I am proud to be an advocate for health equity as I have done through the World Health Organisation’s research agenda on migration and health, sharing my story to raise awareness and promote action toward improving health outcomes of displaced individuals around the world. I am committed to continuing my health equity advocacy, empowering others, and contributing to the creation of a more just and compassionate society.

As I reflect on my journey from the refugee camp to Canada and to Australia, I realise how each experience, challenge, and connection has woven together to shape who I am today. My life experience has cultivated a passion for community impact, no matter how small it may be. Embracing friendships forged along the way has not only enriched my understanding of the world but has also instilled in me a deep human spirit. As I continue to navigate fatherhood, commitment to my wife, and pursue my professional goals, I remain dedicated to making a meaningful difference – not just in my life but in the lives of those around me. This journey is just the beginning, and I look forward to what lies ahead, fuelled by the lessons of my past and the human spirit that has carried me along the way.