Dream realised: Ghofran Al-nasiri became a doctor after years of hard work.
Twenty-two years ago Ghofran Al-nasiri was one of the first Iraqi refugees to arrive with her family in Cobram. Adapting to a new language and culture, she never gave up on her dream of being a doctor. Today she has a PhD in biomedicine and trains medical students on their way to becoming doctors. Her remarkable story appears alongside other inspiring refugee stories in a new book, Seeking Asylum: Our Stories, published by the Asylum Seeker Resource Centre. Today, we publish Ghofran’s story in her own words — as it appears in the book.
I loved primary school and as a child I dreamed of becoming a doctor.
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Inside the cover of our schoolbooks there was a picture of the president, Saddam Hussein. Under him, we were not able to safely speak our opinions and our freedom was restricted.
One day I was drumming on his face with my pencil, thinking of all the things Saddam’s government did that my father objected to. I tapped until I made holes in his eyes. If someone had seen this, it would have been very dangerous for my family: we could have been executed. I hid the book for an entire year inside our house. I didn’t tell anyone, not even my mum. I was just nine years old, holding all this fear inside me.
When I was in Grade 6, my family fled Iraq and I missed a year of school. I spent six years in a Saudi Arabian refugee camp in the desert.
Over 30,000 people lived there, in tents with no fridges or air conditioning. To cool down we would dip a bit of fabric in water and cover ourselves with it. But after five minutes it was dry again. There were no showers and long queues for the toilets.
One day the camp opened a school in a tiny caravan — I was so happy. When the teacher asked me what year I was in, I said I was in Year 7 because I didn’t want to repeat a year. I had already lost so much time.
In 1999, when I was 20 years old, I came to Australia with my husband and eight-month-old son. We moved to Cobram, a country town in Victoria. We were one of the first Muslim families the locals had seen. And they were the first Australians we had seen. The first two years were the hardest. I had to get used to a new culture and language, and I was far away from my relatives. In the beginning, I was even too scared to go outside.
After living in Cobram for some years, I started to feel more settled, but that feeling soon turned to restlessness. I thought: why don’t I try to achieve my dream of becoming a doctor? I’d always had this passion. When I told people I was leaving to become a doctor, no-one believed I could do it. They said, ‘It’s too difficult,’ or ‘You have two kids, you have responsibilities.’ I am grateful for their words of discouragement because they filled me with determination to prove them wrong.
When I moved to Melbourne in 2006 to study for my VCE, I had minimal literacy in English and I hadn’t been to school for 12 years.
I pushed myself hard. I didn’t have any support; I didn’t even have the internet. For chemistry, maths and biology, I had to translate every single word of the textbooks. I worked 12 hours a day, every day, and had two kids to look after as well. It was crazy. I completed my VCE with a score below 50, but I was really happy and proud of myself.
“I have so often been the only Muslim woman in a room, but it no longer worries me.”
Because of my low score, no university wanted me. They couldn’t see how far I had come. Fortunately, I was accepted into Victoria University’s foundation studies course, which offers a pathway for disadvantaged students to improve their English skills and go on to medicine and other degrees. I completed the course and finished top of my class of about 150 students.
There were struggles of course: once I was told I’d failed my assignments because my English was poor. I had never failed in my life and I cried like a baby. I spent a week redoing all my assignments and resubmitted them. Later I received an email saying, ‘Congratulations, you got a high distinction.’ I still have this email today.
To say thank you to the university, I volunteered my time teaching other students in the foundation studies course. People kept saying that I was a good teacher, so I started thinking that helping other students to achieve their dreams might be even more rewarding than achieving my own. Doctors might be able to cure your body, but teachers can cure your soul.
After completing a Bachelor of Science (honours) with high distinction and receiving a Dean’s Scholar award, I completed my PhD in the microencapsulation of natural antimicrobial agents. Now I work as a lecturer, training biomedical students on their way to becoming doctors.
Perseverance pays: Ghofran was once told she’d failed her assignments because her English was poor. Now she has a PhD in the microencapsulation of natural antimicrobial agents and is a lecturer at Victoria University. Photo: Sam Biddle, ASRC
Victoria University opened the door for disadvantaged students. But opening the door is not enough: you need to recognise people’s abilities in order to maximise their potential. I was lost in the crowd when I was doing my degree. I want to change that for other students, so now I sit on the University Council board. Disadvantaged students are more capable and passionate than those who haven’t ever struggled. And you never know who you’re talking to. If you support someone, they might be able to become a teacher, a social worker — or even the prime minister. Australia has welcomed many people seeking asylum who are now proud to belong here.
I have so often been the only Muslim woman in a room, but it no longer worries me. I know I am capable. I want to bring people together. You’ve read my story: having some doors opened for me enabled me to achieve my dreams. But I want you to know that my story could be someone else’s story if they are welcomed into this country and given opportunities and their potential is recognised.
If you are a young person seeking asylum reading this, I hope that you know your dreams are possible. Believe in yourself and your ability to achieve your dreams.
I am proud to be Australian.
I am proud to wear a hijab.
I am proud of what I have achieved — for myself, my children and my community.
Stories that needed to be told: Seeking Asylum: Our Storiesis out now in all good bookshops priced at $39.99 (hardback).
