IRAQ
Faisal Halabi turned five while he was travelling on planes between Baghdad and Auckland.
‘‘I was smack bang ready for primary school,’’ says the suited solicitor pulling together fragments of his early memories.’’
When he arrived in New Zealand 21 years ago Halabi didn’t speak any English.
His father Bassam, who spoke broken English, taught him one word – ‘‘pass’’ – always to be used in response to questions in class.
‘‘I remember saying that word for the longest time and people just giving me a funny look.’’
His family left Iraq in 1996 to find a better way of life, not as refugees but as immigrants.
His parents, both qualified engineers, wanted their children to have greater opportunities and access to education.
They arrived at Auckland International Airport with few belongings, English language skills and knowing no one.
Moving into a state house on iconic Dominion Road near Balmoral, the Halabis only had mattresses to sleep on, he says
Their young Kiwi neighbours with two daughters helped to make their introduction to New Zealand smooth.
‘‘We were invited to play on their trampoline, we went to the moves, rode on bikes and went to school together.
‘‘They transformed our experience, it was so welcoming.’’
Halabi is not sure migrants and refugees have the same experience today and wonders if Aucklanders are as open to diversity as when he arrived.
‘‘If a family were to fly into New Zealand tomorrow and their first interaction was with a closed off antiimmigrant group of people what would that mean for that family?’’
The Trump ban compounds things, says Halabi, who still has some family members in the city of Mosul, which has been under ISIS control.
‘‘It’s a double injustice when people come from such hardships and then arrive to be treated as ‘other’.’’