A man waves over a roughly boarded fence, as a guard walks intimidatingly in front of it. A group of refugee protesters, sweltering in the hot sun in Leonora 鈥 a two day drive from Perth into the desert 鈥 wave back and yell 鈥渁zadi鈥, the Farsi word for freedom.
I am one of the protesters and I am filming the protest.
One week earlier, just before the start of my second year at university, I opened an email from an activist group advertising a 鈥淐aravan of Compassion鈥 to Leonora detention centre.
A few days later I was on the bus, barely knowing one other person.