Ali Dorani aka Eaten Fish

HOMELAND: Iran

DENTION: Manus Island / Australia

AGE:

TIME IN DETENTION: Three years

REASON FOR SEEKING REFUGE: Escape torture & persecution

DESTINATION: Norway

Story

“In 2013, I left Iran. I can't tell you why because it might affect my family's safety - but I knew my life was in danger.

“I've been drawing since I was five years old - it's one of my earliest memories. I didn't always have something to draw on. We could request materials from immigration officers, but they wouldn't always give us paper and pencils. So I had to steal paper - I'd go into language classes, and take blank papers when the teacher was looking the other way. Because I only had a limited supply of paper I couldn't make mistakes in my drawings - that also helped me improve my skills. But I started showing my drawings to other detainees, and some of the immigration officers, and people got interested in my cartoons. I drew about my life there - what happened when I lined up to get food, what it was like using dirty public toilets. I remember the first time I realised people took my work seriously. I drew a map of Australia on a white T-shirt, with two eyes crying, and the words "I am only a refugee". Two immigration officers asked me why I drew on my T-shirt - they saw the drawing as a protest. I hadn't meant it as a protest - I had no idea my drawing would be taken that seriously - but it made me realise that my drawings could affect others. So I kept cartooning - drawing diaries about daily life in the detention centre - and getting lots of positive and negative comments. I was afraid that my drawings could affect my asylum application - but I also thought there could be nothing worse than being kept in a detention centre. I was depressed and my OCD was really difficult - so I thought I was already in a nightmare, and there was nothing else to be afraid of.

I was moved to Manus Island after six months, in January 2014. They handcuffed us and I had five security officers around me. It was my first time in a tropical country - it was really hot and it was difficult to breathe. It didn't look like the detention centre on Christmas Island. It looked like somewhere where you would keep chickens, pigs or sheep. We had tents, dirty rooms, dirty toilets, and horrible showers. There were hundreds of people crammed in a small camp. I felt I didn't have any choices left - I couldn't go home, couldn't stay in Australia, and didn't want to kill myself. I felt like a dead body who was forcing himself to stay alive.

I didn't have any pencils or paper when I arrived on Manus Island - they took away my pencils when I left Christmas Island - although I could keep my drawings. At first, I didn't want to draw. When you're forced to live in a place, but don't know why you are there, or when it is going to end, you lose hope, you lose all motivation, and this, combined with the weather, the sun, the mosquitoes - all help to destroy you inside.

I chose EatenFish as my penname, because I was caught from the sea like a fish, "eaten" (processed) at an Australian detention camp, and then "thrown away" on Manus Island (the same way you throw fish bones into a rubbish bin).

The internet connection was really slow, and was barely strong enough to get onto Facebook - but I started logging on, joining Australian humanitarian groups, and sending friend requests to each of the members. I did that for 1.5 years - sending messages to thousands of strangers. No one replied. An activist - Janet Galbraith - heard about my drawings and contacted me on Facebook - she said she was starting a gallery in Melbourne, and wanted to display one of my drawings. It wasn't easy sending her my pictures because we didn't have access to a scanner, or cameras. A few people had secretly kept their mobile phones, although most of the cameras weren't very high-quality. Eventually, I managed to secretly take a photo of my drawing using a mobile phone, and sent it to her. The drawing that was exhibited in Melbourne! After Janet displayed the photo in the gallery, one man working on Manus Island saw the picture, and told Janet he knew me and could help get my drawings out. He was working for the government so I couldn't really trust him, but at the same time I didn't have many other choices. He took photos of my drawings with his iPad and sent them to Janet - and then my drawings started getting published by news organisations.

The doctors put me on different forms of medication, but there were days when I'd wake up and not be able to remember where I used to live or who I was. I was kept in isolation for almost one month. After I got out of isolation, I contacted Janet again, and explained what happened to me. I also got in touch with Cartoonists Rights Network International (CRNI), and was put in touch with the Guardian cartoonist First Dog on the Moon.

The Guardian started publishing my work, and in 2016, CRNI gave me their Courage in Editorial Cartooning Award. That got me a lot of publicity - but I didn't really realise it at the time, because my internet access was so limited. I would hear from people that I'd been published, or get sent links to my work - but I'd have to wait to use the internet room each week, and often the connection wouldn't work well. I didn't think the publicity would help me - I saw it as a chance to show my drawings to Australians, but I didn't see how it would get me out of detention. In 2016, artists around the world started drawing cartoons to show their support for me. When I was a child, one of my wishes was to become a cartoonist, because I would read cartoons in magazines and wish my cartoons could be published too. So when I saw that all these cartoonists that I used to worship and see in magazines had drawn cartoons to save me, it was a big honour for me.

The International Cities of Refuge Network (Icorn), a Norwegian organisation that helps writers and artists, also started working on my case. I didn't know anything about Icorn at the time - Janet just told me they were looking at my case - but I didn't believe they'd be able to help me. Late 2016, I got a message from Norway's immigration department, welcoming me. I couldn't believe it. When I got onto the plane to Norway, Janet was there with me. I couldn't stop crying for a few hours - I don't normally cry easily, but this time I couldn't stop. All my years in detention came up in front of my eyes - and I couldn't believe that it was the end.

I was so excited and so scared when I arrived in Norway. A few people came to the airport to pick me up, showed me where I would be living, and told me about the support I'd get. It wasn't easy at first. For the first six to eight months I was in a deep depression - even stronger than the one I had on Manus Island. It still affects me now. But I got good support from the government, and help from refugee organisations, especially Icorn. I don't think it's possible to get better support than what I got in Norway. Icorn gave me an office in a public library in Stavanger, so I can work on my projects. A lot of children visit the library, and sometimes I hold drawing courses.

I think Norway has the best support and services for refugees - there are detention camps for asylum seekers, but they are not locked in - they can go out, interact with people.

I always say that art saved me - it helped the Norwegian government find out about my situation. I think I have the right to say that art actually saved me. I started drawing cartoons in detention, to try and control my illness, and eventually, cartoons saved my life. I genuinely believe that art can help bring peace, and that I have to look after my art and respect that.”