I remember that afternoon clearly.

My wife and I, and our two little boys, were having Sunday lunch in a restaurant in Cape Town, South Africa. It was in January 2008. We chatted about the goings on outside in the parking lot, the litter, the crime and grime and the culture of lawlessness and corruption that seemed to plague everyday life in South Africa. We too had been touched by crime, had experienced it first hand in the form of home invasions, hijackings and even a murder in the family. Living with ‘fear’ had become a way of life for us, and there was always a tension and anxiety, in everything that we did.
I took a sip of my wine, looked at my wife and said “Let’s move to Australia. My wife was taken aback and replied “Are you serious?” I replied that I was and so we finished our lunch and went straight home, logged on to the internet and did a Google search on “Moving to Australia”, making an appointment with a “Migration Agent” the very next day. This was the first step in a “rollercoaster ride”, that would take almost 2 ½ years and one that would ultimately change our lives forever. Our boys were still very young. Michael was 7 and Kristofer 4, and so they did not really understand what the process was really about, nor the concept that we would be leaving South Africa, our home, our birthplace.

The entire process was a very stressful one and indeed a “rollercoaster ride of emotions”. A ride that once one had hopped on, one had to stay on, from start to completion. During the 2 ½ year costly “process” we still had to try to go on with our daily lives, although to be honest we had given up on South Africa and was in essence just “hanging in there” waiting for the visa applications to be approved.

Our lives in South Africa had become extremely stressful.

Not only did we have to live with the high and violent crime rate, but we also had corruption to deal with. As a young married couple, we had purchased a house in a small rural town, some 90 minutes drive from Cape Town. We had hoped to be able to start a family and to enjoy less stressful lives, out in the country where crime was not as high and where our children could have a large garden to play in, where we could grow our own vegetables and breathe fresh, unpolluted air.

Our dreams of an idyllic life were shattered, when the town’s most prominent and wealthy farmer purchased the vacant land adjacent to our house and planted it under export table grapes. By then my wife was pregnant with Kristofer, and in the summer of 2003/4, the farmer started spraying his vineyards with pesticides which resulted in large clouds of spray drift engulfing our house and garden. Concerned that these chemicals would pose a threat to us, I approached the farmer asking him if anything that he was spraying was toxic. He was very arrogant and dismissed my concern, stating that nothing he sprayed was toxic.

At the age of just 5 weeks, Kristofer fell ill. We rushed him to hospital and later that day he went into cardiac and respiratory arrest. Fortunately my wife was holding him at the time. After 45 mins of CPR he was stabilized, spending a week in ICU. Tests confirmed that my wife’s exposure to agricultural chemicals, in particular organophosphate neurotoxins, had had a negative impact on the unborn child. Armed with this new evidence we approached the farmer demanding that he furnish us with details of what he had been spraying. He naturally refused and so we were forced to take the matter to the Supreme Court, not asking for financial compensation but rather that the farmer obey the law and that is that he keeps his toxic spray drift within the confines of the vineyard. We won the case. The issue generated a lot of negative publicity for him and the town, and in this regard we appeared on national & international television. The expose angered the farmer so much that he then started victimizing us. We found ourselves on the receiving end of death threats, crank calls, rocks thrown onto the tin roof of our house and even had shotguns fired at our house, from the adjacent vineyards.

We immediately put the house on the market and at the same time laid criminal charges against the farmer.

We sold the house in July 2009 and moved to a rental property closer to the city whilst we waited for our PR Visas to be processed. The threats and abuse continued. At the same time I founded an environmental NGO named “The Air That I Breathe [TATIB] Foundation” of which I am still Chairman.

Our last ten months in the country were spent campaigning against unlawful spray drift and the use of obsolete and often banned agricultural pesticides. Our PR Visas were granted in early 2010 and it was as if a large weight had been lifted from our shoulders. There was indeed light at the end of the tunnel and with it the hopes of freedom and a future for our children.

We remember that final day, 04 September 2010. Our suitcases were packed. We had said our goodbyes and we were waiting to board our flight to Melbourne. We spent the last hour on our mobile phones, saying goodbye to friends and family, updating our Facebook profiles.

And so here we are, living in Australia. A wonderful, well run modern 1st world country. We have embraced our new home and will always be thankful for the fact that Australia and its wonderful people have welcomed us with wide-spread arms.

It feels so good to be free.

Thank you Australia!

Jurgen Schirmacher , Laetitia Schirmacher, Michael & Kristofer