Dream letter - number 23

Dear Khodayar, I have dreamt about you. In my dream I had travelled to a small town and found a man who knew about your death and who knew where your remains were stored. He told me that your remains were going to be loaded on a truck and taken away to another place. He said that he would let me look at what was left of you before this happened. I was scared Khodayar. I know how badly you were damaged and I didn’t know if I could bear seeing you like that. But I have come so far to find you, and to solve the mystery of your murder that I couldn’t turn back.

The dream ended before I actually looked at you but I saw the container that your remains were lying in. It was beside the truck, ready to be loaded. And I don’t know where the truck was going to take you – maybe all the way back to the mountain kingdom where you were born. In waking life your body has been buried in the Islamic section of a cemetery here in Melbourne. In the dream it was going to be taken on a long journey before finding a place of rest. Love Stephen

More flowers for Khodayar at his Final Camp

There are never enough flowers for you Khodayar.

Letter of horror, number 22

Dear Khodayar, another refugee has died on Nauru. This man is called Rakib and has fled from Bangladesh. He was another one who didn’t find safety here – only torture and death. And of course there is young Hodan from Somalia. She burnt herself on Nauru and is still alive but in a critical condition. I hope that she doesn’t die but I know that the injuries she has received will cause her horrible suffering.

A monster is eating human flesh. Taking one life and then another. You were also consumed by this monster Khodayar, and I don’t know when this killing will stop. This is an evil and wicked thing that Australia is doing. A country created by dispossession and genocide. And these crimes too were cloaked in lies. This is the country of the White Australia Policy and of pogroms against the Chinese miners. Now this same violence is directed against different people; people like you who flee from wars in boats. This savagery is a corrosive poison for all who touch it. Thank you for giving us the antidote. Love Stephen Clendinnen

Twenty first letter - for my friend Khodayar

Dear Khodayar, refugees are still burning themselves and people are still dying. I am very sorry to tell you this, but your words have not been listened to. I was heavy with the news of Omid Maoumali’s recent death whin I went to your camp. I brought flowers which I left at the base of the tree. I looked at the photographs of your face and again read your last statement posted to the tree. And I hear your voice clear and defiant. This comes to me strongly as I stand in your last camp. And I hang onto this comunication from you – this impression of your presence.

This is like air to my lungs and I drink it in. A letter has been left for you at the tree. I don’t know who wrote it. I do know that your words are not forgotten and will not be forgotten. Your words are special because they make sense of these crimes. Your words are antidote to the false slogans of humanity that beguile and deceive us. A heart can’t function when its openings are blocked by shit. A mind can’t live while we consume our own young in violence. The fools who own these prison camps will not listen to your words but they can’t silence them either. In their monstrous confusion they ignore the truths that you have spoken with such courage. Love Stephen