The twelfth post in our Celebrating Alumni profile series is Shameema Kolia, a 2009 AIMEP alumna. Shameema heads the Muslim Women Support Centre in Perth, and has undertaken many fundraising projects to support victims of war in several countries overseas including Syria and Jordan.

Read Shameema’s story below:

Shameema Kolia

I grew up in South Africa in a family that was very passionate about the struggle against apartheid. My great-grandfather on my mother’s side was the head of the South African Indian National Congress, my grandfather was politically exiled, and other family members spent years in prison because of their political activity.

As a child, I remember going to rallies and marches, and there was always that political awareness of injustice and poverty, and of my own privilege. At the same time, my family was quite community-minded, and taught us about the importance of helping those who are less fortunate. This upbringing shaped the direction my life.

When I was 17, my parents applied to migrate to Australia to provide a better future for me and my two brothers, as at that time things were not very safe in South Africa. Because we were approved much faster than expected, we moved very suddenly to Perth.

As a teenager, I was annoyed. I felt as if my parents were tearing me apart from everything I knew, to come to a place I’d never seen. It was a huge adjustment. Then, in my second year of university, 9/11 happened, and that disrupted life in a way that I could not have expected.

Before that, I was an invisible Muslim girl – no one really cared about my existence. But as someone who wore the headscarf, I was suddenly very visible, and the general conversation was that I didn’t belong. In the media, there were claims about my beliefs and my religion, and I was labelled a terrorist. Every other day, someone was speaking about me but it felt like none of what they were saying represented me. It was very confronting for someone so young.

Before that, I felt that I’d finally found my footing as a new Australian. Now once again, it was completely ripped from beneath me and all of those questions about whether I belonged started again.

One day there was a talkback radio show going on where this question came up again about Australian values, belonging, and identity. I was really offended by what was being said, and my dad said to me, “Why don’t you call in?” – so I did.

I told the radio host, “So one issue seems to be that as a Muslim, I don’t actually speak English? And as you can tell, I speak English perfectly. The next thing you’re saying is that I need to assimilate so we work as a team. I think I do that just perfectly well. Finally, you’re saying that we need to adopt Australian culture. So what is your culture? You came into this country, you conquered, you pillaged, you stole. Is that what we Muslims should do?”

Obviously, that caused a lot of outrage. A good stack of hate mail came through. Then the radio station called me back and said, “Hey, that was quite controversial. Would you like to come into the studio and answer some questions?” I was reluctant at first, but my dad said to me, “Well, you started it now. So you’re going to have to do it.”

Although I was very nervous, it was good to have an opportunity to actually have my voice heard. I said, “I don’t speak for every Muslim, and we’re certainly not this one group, but I’m refusing to accept collective blame every time something happens halfway across the world. I want to be able to feel safe here. I feel like I’m Australian, I believe I’m Australian, and I’m a contributing member to society. So actually, you don’t get to tell me that I don’t belong. If you have a problem with it, you’re going to have to leave because I’m here to stay. And so are the rest of us.”

This was received a little bit better because people got to call in and ask questions. The best thing that came out of it was the woman who made the last call. She said, “I hated all of you, to be honest. I don’t know why, I’m going to have to figure it out. But you’ve given me something to think about today. And if the rest of them are like you, then I need to meet some more Muslims.” And I said, “That’s all I’m asking for – to meet me as an individual as a person. If you don’t like me, that’s okay. But you can’t judge me based on my religion.”

That started my journey. After that, I realised that I don’t want to be represented only by sheikhs who don’t speak my language. So two years later, I started a Muslim youth organisation for other young people who might feel like they didn’t belong in the mosques or in mainstream society, but who needed a third space where they could express themselves as very much Australian, but still Muslim. This organisation was a great success.

I finished university with a degree in psychology, but I never practiced because by then, I was so steeped in community and volunteering programs. One of these was the local community food hamper which we called the Halal Food Bank. I started a lot of little initiatives like that to address needs within our community. In theory, I was working in our family business and my dad was paying my salary, but I was mostly doing community work!

I went on the Australia-Indonesia Muslim Exchange Program (AIMEP) in 2009. It was a really wonderful experience. I’ll never forget the way we were welcomed by each organisation. And as the reception was heartfelt, we too pitched up and did our best. The best thing was the human connections. You might not remember every detail, but what you do remember is that experience of having met another human being and connected with them. It was interesting to learn that some of the struggles that young people were having there were similar to issues for Australian young people. It was also wonderful to see community organisations, grassroots organisations and government organisations who were all working together to improve life for everyone.

Sometimes the AIMEP program is tough because there are long hours, and you have to eat many weird and wonderful things. But in so many ways, this experience prepared me for my career afterwards in international aid and development. I realized that if I could do that, I could do anything.

For the first year of the Syrian War, I did a lot of fundraising. But when I had raised quite a significant amount of money, I thought, “I want to be able to ensure that my donations are being delivered.” So I asked the organisation that I was sending the funds through if I could go with them to see the program in action. At first, they said I couldn’t because I was a woman. Then I said I would take my fundraising somewhere else and they changed their mind! That trip was a complete eye opener.

I next worked for Muslim Aid Australia for two years, but I came out of that because I wanted to do things a little bit differently. I decided I wanted to concentrate on long term, impactful projects, especially when it came to women.

Now I have a new project that works directly with big business to provide help for those in need. Currently, we’re building apartment housing for widows and orphans in Jordan. At the bottom of the building, there will be shops which the women will work in, or if they want to study, we’ll fund that instead. For five years, we’ll take care of all of their expenses, and the hope is that by then they’ll have saved up enough money to be able to stand on their own two feet, and that the children will either be close to finishing school, or will have been trained in certain skills. Then, the next group can move in. I feel that projects such as these are more life-changing than a food box every month.

I’m also currently heading up the Muslim Women Support Centre, which supports any Muslim woman who comes through the door in whatever challenge that she’s facing to get her to where she wants to be. As well as that, we have day-to-day programs, including a food pantry that serves about 143 families a month.

My advice for young Muslims in Australia, or anywhere, is to always speak up where you can, because there are millions of people in the world who don’t have the opportunities that we have and can’t use their voices. You need to decide who you are and where you stand, and to stand firm in that and represent yourself. I think that if we all do that really well, it opens conversations. And it’s only through that that we can ultimately change anything.

Shameema Kolia

Perth, Western Australia

AIMEP 2009