‘I feel she is my mum’: How a shearing-shed cook and a Syrian refugee became family

Marcia Jolley, 81, used to work as a cook in outback shearing sheds. She’s now “Mum” to Nayran Tabiei, 52, a Syrian refugee and cafe owner in Melbourne. They support each other, feed each other and, quite simply, love each other.

Marcia Jolley (left) and Nayran Tabiei: “We came here barefoot, with nothing. Marcia didn’t worry if we were educated or had money or our clothes were good or not good.”Credit: Simon Schluter

Nayran: I left Syria in 2011, first for Lebanon, then Thailand, and eventually Indonesia. I came by boat to Australia in 2012 with my husband Majid and daughter Elyanoura, who was five. I had to send my three sons, aged 15, 13 and 7, to Iran. We were detained on Christmas Island and Port Augusta for a year and then we were released to Melbourne.

When I came here, I feel like I died, in a way. We had no one. I remember the day I met Marcia. I was volunteering in the neighbourhood house [community drop-in centre] in Braybrook, cooking with the elderly. She was reading to Elyanoura. Straight away, she opened the door to us as a family. She loved us, she trusted us. She invited us to her home. It was very surprising for us, for someone from Australia to accept us, respect us.

In my country, we had a life, we had a business. People in Australia sometimes think a refugee comes from nothing. But Damascus is a big city with 10,000 years of history. People ask if I had a camel, if I lived in a tent. I was rich. I had a Mercedes in my garage – a bomb took it. We came here barefoot, with nothing. Marcia didn’t worry if we were educated or had money or our clothes were good or not good: “You are good. I love you. That’s it.” She told me she wanted to adopt me. It’s not an adoption officially but, in my heart, I feel she is my mum.

When I was six, my real mum passed away. Now I have someone to remember me every night, someone I call when I have something to tell. “How’s your week? What are you doing?” It’s so fun with her. We talk, we laugh, play cards, go to each other’s homes. She’s positive from her heart. The first time Marcia came to our home, she sees all this food on the table, a big, big spread. She said, “Oh, I’m not hungry.” But it’s our culture. Now she knows that when she comes, she is staying for three or four hours and she’s eating.

“Someone told me, ‘Bring to the barbie some nibblies.’ I asked her, what is ‘nibblies’ and what is ‘barbie’?”

In Australia, if you go to someone’s house, they ask if you want coffee. If you say, “No, thank you,” that’s it. But for us, we offer coffee, tea every 10 minutes. Then we just bring it. There is no “No, thank you”.

Now she invites us for dinner, too. She makes steak, puts a big lamb in the oven. Her dressing is different, the taste is different from my taste, but I love someone to cook for me. Sometimes, I take the sweet and we share Australian and Syrian food. We match our food – it’s a nice feeling. She helps me a lot, explains things. The first time I did catering, someone told me, “Bring to the barbie some nibblies.” I asked her, what is “nibblies” and what is “barbie”? Now I know.

Marcia has a button she can press if she falls over. One time, in lockdown, the agency called me at night. The button went off. I call, I call, I went to her home, knocked on the door, we have the key, we go inside. She says, “Oh, the cat jumped on the button.” Her older daughter told me that if Marcia has a fall, she might have to go into a nursing home. No. I’ll bring her to my home. In my culture, we don’t put old people in nursing homes. I want to comb her hair. I want to take her to the shower. She has given me strength, supported me. It’s a beautiful feeling when you know you have someone.

Marcia: When I met Nayran, I was pretty lonely. My husband had died four months before. I’m a people person, so I would go to the neighbourhood house and, suddenly, Nayran and Majid were there, volunteering. I met them a few times, we talked, and I really liked their company. They are so nice and so giving. I felt very comfortable chatting with them.

We made friends. They’d come around. We’d sit around the table and laugh about anything and everything. We had picnics, something I hadn’t done for years, and they introduced me to the Middle East. I didn’t know much about refugees until then. Nayran talked about the Taliban and how she’d been arrested and how they’d throw a woman into jail over there at the drop of a hat. I was made more aware of what was going on around the world. All the years that I was away in the shearing sheds, you didn’t know the news at all.

“I was made more aware of what was going on around the world. All the years that I was away in the shearing sheds, you didn’t know the news at all.”

It was a struggle for them, starting again with nothing. Majid would pick up a broken chair or coffee table off the nature strip and fix it. You could see they were good people, they were going to be good citizens. They impressed me. I said to Nayran, “I’m going to adopt you as my daughter.” So I’m her mother. I treat her just the same as my other four children.

I just love her and she loves me. What more can you ask for in life? Elyanoura calls me “Grandma”. And they do things for me. One day, Nayran comes around and says, “I can hardly see out your windows.” Next thing, she’s out there cleaning them. They needed me and I needed them.

Nayran hasn’t got a permanent visa here. I’d be devastated if they were whipped off and put in detention. You feel helpless. I know I would protest. People from Ukraine are coming in now and they’re letting them stay. Why isn’t there citizenship for Nayran and Majid, who would lie down for you? They are more giving than some Australians.

I love her food because everything’s cooked from scratch. They wouldn’t go to the supermarket like I would and buy anything processed. It’s all fresh and it’s cooked there and then. When she started Flavours of Syria [a cafe in St Kilda], I was very excited, but also worried people wouldn’t come. But she’s got this personality that draws people and a passion for cooking. I think she communicates with people through food. I am beyond proud of her.

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