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Behrouz Boochani: “I Was Not a Victim — I Was a Fighter”

 Behrouz Boochani: “I Was Not a Victim — I Was a Fighter”
5 . بەفرانبار . 2725

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Wellington — For all the years Behrouz Boochani was imprisoned by Australia on Manus Island, one dream remained unchanged. He imagined himself walking through city streets. In his vision, he strolls through Wellington with a cup of coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other — a quiet balance, he says, and an essential part of who he is.
“I think the best way to describe myself,” Boochani says, “is as a man who always walks.”
Today, Boochani lives in New Zealand’s capital, far from the detention center that once defined his global image. When his writing about Australia’s offshore detention system began appearing in international newspapers, he became one of the most recognizable voices of detained refugees. But the man sitting in Wellington now is no longer the same person who endured Manus Prison — though his struggle has never truly stopped.

Writing as Survival, Writing as Life
After arriving in New Zealand, Boochani immediately returned to writing. He describes it not as a profession or a refuge, but as a form of existence.
“I found my way back to writing again,” he says. “Not writing as a place to hide or lean on — but writing as life itself.”
Through writing, Boochani says, he came to understand people more deeply. For him, writing and walking are inseparable practices. He never drives. Even when distances take hours, even during Wellington’s harsh winters, he walks. He believes the discipline of writing demands physical movement and exposure to the city.
He often sings while walking. Once, he recalls, a Kurdish man recognized his voice — the only time Boochani encountered another Kurd in Wellington. “I don’t really know many people in the city,” he says, smiling, “but I imagine their stories in my head. In a way, I know them.”

From Manus Island to International Recognition
Four years ago, Boochani was intercepted at sea by Australian authorities. He later traveled to New Zealand for a writers’ festival, where he was granted asylum. Long before that, he had already documented the suffering of refugees in Australia’s offshore camps — typing entire texts on a mobile phone and sending them via WhatsApp. Those messages would later make him one of the most influential refugee writers and filmmakers of his generation.
“When people approach you as someone from a refugee camp,” Boochani explains, “it doesn’t matter whether you are a writer or not. They approach you through an image they already have — the image of a victim.”
He rejects that label outright.
“I was not a victim,” he says firmly. “I was a fighter. I resisted. I fought back.”
He has written two books and dozens of articles exposing the detention system — not as a passive witness, but as an active opponent of what he calls a colonial structure of violence.

Breaking the Image of Suffering
Meeting Boochani in person, one quickly realizes how distant he is from the image many readers hold of him. Alongside memories of Manus Island — which he describes as deeply traumatic — there is humor, irony, and a sharp, playful intelligence.
In his prison writings, Boochani longed for society. In Wellington, he found something unexpected: an underground literary and artistic scene, populated by young radicals and anarchists.
“These spaces help you understand society better,” he says. “They teach you how power works — and how resistance is formed.”

Anger as Responsibility
Boochani’s mind is crowded with writing projects. He wants to do everything, he says — though he openly admits he is lazy. He insists on it, even laughing at himself. Sometimes, when his partner visits for lunch, he is still half-asleep.
Yet his sense of responsibility is unwavering.
“My role is not just to tell stories,” Boochani says. “My role is to make colonialists angry. Because communication is not just about delivering a message. A message is something clean and simple — and reality is not.”
Last year, Boochani spoke at the European Parliament in Brussels. His continued support for Kurdish struggles has made him a target of online harassment and threats, forcing him at times to withdraw from social media altogether.
Still, he remains defiant.
“I am not just a witness to history,” he says. “I am part of the struggle.”