In 2001, the Norwegian freighter Tampa - crammed with more than 400 asylum-seekers rescued from a sinking fishing boat - was turned away from Australia. Abbas Nazari, aged seven, was onboard.

In 2001, the Norwegian freighter Tampa - crammed with more than 400 asylum-seekers who'd been rescued from a sinking fishing boat - was turned away from Australia.

A seven-year-old boy Afghan boy named Abbas Nazari, who was on board with his family, eventually found a home in Christchurch.

In 2019, Abbas went to Georgetown University in Washington DC on a Fulbright scholarship and eventually graduated with a Masters in Security Studies.

He tells his story in the book After the Tampa.

Listen to Abbas Nazari in conversation with Helen Clark (NZ prime minister at the time of 'the Tampa affair') and the University of Canterbury's Ekant Veer at WORD Christchurch 2021:

Abbas Nazari: 'Caught between the endless ocean and an unseeing earth, we chose life'

Abbas Nazari:

When it comes to telling the refugee story, it's usually involving a statistic or maybe a country of origin. Lost in that discussion is the enormity of having to make a decision to board up your house, to jump in the back of a truck or on a boat, or to walk across continents. What's lost is the human struggle, the personal journey, the names, the faces and the conversations that take place.

That's why After the Tampa is not about me.

In fact, you could copy and paste Afghanistan with the name of another conflict zone that's experiencing upheaval.

One of my favourite passages in the book talks about that, beginning with the time when my family got on the boat:

When we see a trail of desperate people fleeing conflict, perhaps on the tv news, we miss the points in time when a parent has to make a life-altering decision on behalf of a whole family. To stay or to go, to endure known misery or to march towards an unknown future.

Caught between the endless ocean and an uncertain earth, we chose life. Some kind of future beckoned and desperation powdered us to climb aboard. It seemed everyone was coming to that same conclusion and a mild scramble erupted. Luggage was tossed onboard in a swarm of activity, noise, chaos, crying children. Adults waded out nervously, most touching sea water for the first time in their lives.

Today my mother recalls the curtain of fear that hung before her as she walked towards the boat. She battled with the voice in her head that insistently urged her to stay on dry land, to cling to certainty however bleak. With every step she felt she was dragging a heavy chain. Through teary eyes she could hardly see the ladder as her feet one by one left solid ground. There was no turning back now. …

Go to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details