TRANSCRIPT
Sara Mashalian and her partner Ali Gharaei look like they're living the Australian dream.
Renovating their home in Western Sydney, and building a veggie patch around a classic Hill's hoist.
But Sara who fled religious persecution in Iran nearly 13 years ago still can't call Australia home.
"I am married with the person which is Australian citizen, he is Australian citizen, my father Australian citizen, my brother is Australian citizen, my mother's family, all Australian citizen. How I can leave this country, go to the different country? Already I have a family in Australia. I want to keep my family, I don't want to stress every time, they call me say 'you are not for Australia', 'you can't live in Australia'. Why? Because I come to Australia for a better life? Because I'm Christian?"
Sara works as a dental assistant, pays tax, and her legal partner, brother and father are Australian citizens.
But she still has to renew her visa every six months.
"Every six months my visa is expired. Imagine I told you every six month my Medicare is expired. More than three months I don't have Medicare. Even my visa not allowed to a study, not for a study. Even I can't buy the mobile. I can't buy SIM card. I can't driving in Australia. You know why? If I'm driving or any fault in the street, which is not my fault, okay? That's my issue. Immediately, immigration can cancel it, my visa. Immigration exactly say to me, if we call you, immediately you should answer your phone. For example, if I'm in the toilet, don't answer my phone, immigration can cancel my visa."
Sara doesn't have a pathway to permanent residency because of an immigration policy introduced by then Prime Minister Kevin Rudd on the 19th of July 2013, just days before she and her mother arrived by boat:
"From now on, any asylum seeker who arrives in Australia by boat, will have no chance of being settled in Australia as refugees."
Sara and her mother were sent to Christmas Island, then Nauru for processing.
There, Sara says she faced sexual harassment and horrific living conditions.
Both became ill and were medically evacuated, and in a Darwin detention facility, Sara says she witnessed extreme self-harm by people protesting being sent back offshore.
"The lady was pregnant, maybe three months I couldn't remember exactly the time. She cut it with a knife, her stomach. The baby's come out. That's few years ago but it stays in my mind, I feel it. And the kids, cutting their hands because they don't want to back. Imagine my mum come back from hospital. She's a stay in the room. She go to the keep in the wall and she keep in the hand and officer was inside the my mother room. And I wake up and I mama, what's happened? And I hug it my mom. Mama, you are safe. You don't worry. You are fine. And she's crying loudly 'What's going on? What's going on? I don't want to back. I don't want to back.'"
Sara is one of around 900 people calling on the government to release them from visa limbo.
13 year old Hossam spoke at the protest:
"My brother is 10 now, and he has citizenship but the rest of my family doesn't have a citizenship."
And 13 year old Amir also said he wanted the government to hear his voice.
"I came here when I was 10 months old now I'm 13. I have a little sister she's got her citizenship. I just want the government to give us a chance to call Australia home."
Their only hope is the intervention of Immigration Minister Tony Burke.
Among those who have written to him is 23-year-old Ferdos - who requested SBS omit her surname.
"I got a letter from immigration saying unfortunately you're not eligible for a permanent residency and you've got only two option. It's either you go back to your home country or you choose the third country. But Nauru was the third country. I've spent five years there and I think I've done my time."
The letter Ferdos received came from an unnamed representative of the Department of Home Affairs' Director Resettlement Programs Immigration Compliance Group, writing on behalf of Burke.
It said: "As a transitory person, your stay in Australia is temporary only, and you do not have a permanent settlement pathway in Australia".
It added, "We encourage all transitory persons to consider their options to depart Australia, either to a third country or return to your home country".
Ferdos was just 10 years old when she was put in offshore detention, and has no real connection to any country but Australia.
"I've lost my entire childhood. The damage is done. I'm not talking about that now. I'm here now. I feel Australian in everything except my paperwork. I do everything and Aussie does. I work. I contribute. I grew up here. I went to school here and I'm doing everything a normal Australian citizen would do. I just need that green light that I don't have."
Ferdos works and pays tax, but her visa restricts her from pursuing tertiary education.
"I was a child when all of this happened, and I had no say in how I came here. And I don't know why I'm still being punished. No bank, no educational institution, no one recognised me. And simply because I'm not Australian citizen or I'm not a permanent resident. And despite like living, working, contributing, paying taxes, Australia still doesn't see me as a citizen."
Laura John is an associate legal director at the Human Rights Law Centre, and is Sara Mashalian's lawyer.
She's among advocates pushing for ministerial intervention in so-called 'legacy cases' that remain unresolved.
"This is a policy that was implemented over a decade ago. It simply does not reflect the practical reality of Sara's life and the lives of the other people who are caught in this permanent limbo. These are people who work alongside us, whose children go to schools and childcare. These are people who are Australian in every sense of the way other than their visa status. And it's time for the minister to intervene and to grant people in this group permanent visas to accept what is already the case. They are Australian. This is their home, and they deserve to be able to stay here with their families."
In 2023, 19,000 refugees who also arrived by boat were granted permanent settlement pathways.
A the time - the then-Immigration Minister Andrew Giles said it made "no sense" to keep people who worked and paid taxes "in limbo".
But applications were only open to those who arrived before Operation Sovereign Borders began in September 2013, or who already held temporary protection or safe haven enterprise visas.
Sara and Ferdos were in offshore detention by the cut off, and were never granted one of those visas.
They say they're left in a permanent state of uncertainty, which has taken a physical and psychological toll.
And Sara also fears she's lost the chance to become a mother - as she's delayed having children due to her visa uncertainty.
"I'd like to be having children. That's the normal life when you are marriage. How can I imagine if I have a children. I'm 42 years. I can't be older. I have a limited time I can be a mother."
A Home Affairs department spokesperson told SBS it is committed to resolving the transitory persons caseload temporarily ... through third country migration outcomes and continues to work with resettlement partners to identify resettlement opportunities.
