For those who’ve come across the seas…

It doesn’t take long to break a man. You can do it in a second, in one punch, one judgment handed down, one small gesture. I’ve seen it happen: a sudden crumpling of the features, a devastating blow. I’ve remembered those occasions, viewed them as significant; to watch someone once full of life die, to be replaced by a shattered husk, is humbling.

To watch someone break over a period of months was a different thing altogether. To see eyes go from shining to dull, to watch shoulders slowly droop and hang, as if the arms themselves were too heavy. To hear the tone of bored resignation slowly take over a voice, dulling it until only a monosyllabic version of the previous incantation remained; for a man to become a hopeless case, no longer even angry enough to fight against the injustice of it all, was something I’d never seen. That’s what I saw as a doctor on Nauru working for International Health and Medical Services (IHMS).