Thao Nguyen

The Hon. T.T. NGO (15:31): In the last sitting week the Hon. Rob Lucas spoke about his mother Yoshiko's journey from Japan to South Australia. The Hon. Mr Lucas also spoke about the taunts he had endured during his time growing up in Australia as an Australian with Japanese heritage post World War II.

During the Adelaide Writers Week recently I attended a book launch by two Australians. One was from Iraq and the other one was from Vietnam. The book, written by Thao Nguyen and entitled We are Here, is about her family escaping persecution from Vietnam through horrific jungles controlled by the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia all the way to a crowded Thai refugee camp. The book is also about challenges she and her family faced growing up in Australia.

The majority of Vietnamese refugees escaped Vietnam by boat and a small number by foot, walking through the jungles of Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand. I am told that 90 per cent of people died using this route, and 67 per cent of people died by boat. For me, as a boat person, I had a 33 per cent chance of surviving and, for Thao, it was 10 per cent. Many people died by walking because the border of Vietnam and Cambodia was controlled by the Khmer Rouge. At that time most Vietnamese found by the Khmer Rouge controlled border would be executed. We all know what they did to millions of innocent Cambodians.

In the book, Thao described how her immediate family was almost captured by the Khmer Rouge as they tried to reach the Thai border. Unfortunately, her uncle (her mum's brother) was not so lucky and was caught by the Khmer Rouge in that trip. The uncle was blindfolded and smashed over the head with a large piece of wood. He was never heard of or seen again. Clubbing someone over the head was the way the Khmer Rouge executed people in those days as a way of saving bullets.

Thao also wrote about her father working in factories in those early years, in the 80s, in the western suburbs of Sydney, and the abuse, torments and racism that her father was subjected to at work. With very little English her father felt like a muted migrant and the placid face that he was forced to wear every day at work resulted in anger and resentment which built up over him.

One day he was pushed beyond endurance and he imploded like a crazy animal. He grabbed a metal rod and headed towards the culprit to attack. However, before he could strike his target he thought about what would happen to his family if he went to gaol. Luckily, he dropped the metal rod and walked away.

Thao's father once said that, 'In this country I have a mouth to eat with but I don't have a mouth to speak.' This story also brought back my memory of when I started school in the mid-eighties. After months of bullying and torments from classmates who were a lot bigger than me, I could not hack it anymore and decided to fight back. I fought this big kid behind the school shed after school one day. The fight was watched by many other kids and I am glad they did not have smartphones in those days or else it would have gone viral.

That was the first and last fight I was ever involved in. The only fight I have these days is a bit of fun with the opposition. Australia is a much better place to live in nowadays than in those early days when the Hon. Mr Lucas and his mother had to endure what I could only imagine would have been some horrific treatment. Early migrants like them broke down barriers for subsequent generations of migrants like myself.

Thao said she was so proud to see my photo and that of the Hon. Jing Lee in the members' room when compared to the early years of white male European faces dominating parliament. She can now say to her father that in South Australia migrants like him can have a mouth to eat and a mouth to speak too. Mr President, I recommend the book to you and other members of this parliament.