In January 2006, Mathew and Mama took Gai and me to enrol at Western English Language School on South Road in Braybrook.

When we arrived, we waited in front of a little glass booth while Mathew told the woman sitting inside that we had an appointment with the principal. She picked up a phone and spoke to someone, before pointing us to chairs lined up against the wall. Everywhere we went in this new country, people sat behind glass windows and pointed us to chairs. We were constantly shocked by this behaviour.

In Kakuma and Nairobi, when a visitor arrived, you got up and greeted them, asked how they were, how their family were doing, asked about the kids, if they had any, and then warmly offered them a seat. The way white people acknowledged others here felt unwelcoming and disrespectful, but it seemed to be completely normal.

After a while, a tall woman emerged from an office on the far left of the hallway. We all stood up to greet her, our eyes downcast, to show respect. In Kenya it was also respectful to call a woman in her position ‘Madam’. She shook our hands in turn and led us back to her office. She handed Gai and me enrolment forms—which turned out also to be tests to assess how much English we knew—and through Mathew asked us to sit in opposite corners of her office while we filled them in.

The first question was ‘Name’ so I wrote my name, the second was ‘D.O.B.’ . I had no idea what that meant, so I left it empty. On the next line, I didn’t know how to spell our address, so left that empty as well. The questions became more complex. As I was attempting to read the last question, which seemed to require us to write a brief description of our family, the principal asked for the papers back. I had only written my name; it was the only question I could answer. I hung my head in shame as I handed it to her, and I could see Gai doing the same. The principal then explained that the results of our tests would determine what grade we would be allocated to, and how long we stayed in Language School before we were considered ready for high school. Again, just like the woman at Centrelink, her English was completely foreign to us. We did not understand a single word until Mathew interpreted for us…

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