The Makur family’s journey to Australia to find safety is described here. My name is Martin Majur Majak, and Martha Makur and I reside in Dorrigo, Northern New South Wales, with our six children. In Southern Sudan, Yirol is where we are from.
When I was a very small child, my parents passed away, and my uncle raised me in his household. When I was 18 years old, my uncle enlisted in the army, rose to the rank of captain, and then passed away. Because he had loved me and treated me like a father, I was profoundly saddened by his passing.
After he passed away, the fighting became nearer to our house, so one night we walked to Kenya with other refugees. More than 500 people were in our group, but many of them will perish throughout the trip. For five weeks, while taking care of two young children and lugging the meager food and water we had, we traveled from village to hamlet.
We were protected by an escort of soldiers, but government forces frequently attacked us from the ground and the air. Some of the refugees perished as a result of these attacks, while others passed away because they were too ill or frail to make it. We remained in some areas for up to five days while we awaited UN food deliveries and to give sick people time to get better.