Hazaras Diary Entry

Diary entry #1:
Hello, my name is Ahmed. I am 14 years old and the eldest of my two siblings. I have a little sister and a baby brother. My family are Hazaras, one of the many ethnic groups that make up the Afghan population. We live in the Ghazni province, home to many Hazaras.
My family owns a small grocery shop in the main street. It is usually run by my father and my uncle. In the mornings my uncle walks me and my sister to school as he walks to the shop. But we have to walk home from school alone and I am in charge of keeping my sister safe. My mother spends all day preparing food with what little ingredients we have.
Yesterday, a delivery truck for the shop didn’t show up, so my father asked me to take the day off school and look after
My father sold the house, sold the shop, and borrowed money from many relatives. They used the money to send Khaliq and I on a long and scary journey through Pakistan and India. We are now in Jakarta after months of travel. We are living in a small, run down hotel room with three other refugees from all over the world, they are all going to Australia as well. Although we are safe for now, the thoughts of what lies ahead has been the cause of many sleepless nights. The people in our room warn us that it is better to stay inside because refugees are illegal in Indonesia, unlike Australia. Without any ID here police can take you to detention centres which can be very dangerous and you don’t know when or if you will ever get out. Our roommates even tell of a man being bashed to death in a detention centre.
After all this travel, we are tired. All we want to do is rest. But the ticket to get to Australia costs lots of money, more than we could have ever imagined. Khaliq and I have both taken up jobs in a small auto repair shop. Rishi, the owner of the shop is like us, a refugee. He is originally from the Congo, and it has taken him nine years to become a legal refugee in Indonesia. He has given me and my cousin jobs because he knows how bad our situation