Boy Overboard follows young Jamal’s family as they leave Afghanistan to seek asylum in Australia. Persecuted by the Afghan government for running an illegal school, Jamal and his family are forced to flee their country. This is a traumatic experience, as Jamal’s family has deep ancestral ties to Afghanistan, they’re an integral part of their community, and Jamal dreams of being able to stay and “fix” his country’s government. As such, leaving Afghanistan is more than just leaving behind a house; it is leaving behind an entire identity, community, and support system. This is the symbolic significance of Jamal’s mother’s candlestick: it represents their connection to Afghanistan. Thus, when Jamal’s’ mother sells the candlestick to buy them passage to Australia, it feels to Jamal like his family is severing its connection to its past and identity.
However, despite Jamal’s family’s close ties to Afghanistan, in many ways the Australian way of life aligns better with their beliefs and dreams. For instance, while in Afghanistan Bibi was barred from playing football (soccer), in Australia she will be able to play without fear of persecution. Moreover, Jamal and Bibi will both be able to receive proper (and legal) education in Australia, as well as grow up in a safer environment––that is, one without landmines and war. For these reasons and more, Jamal begins to not only accept, but embrace, Australia as his new home. With its supposedly “nicer” government, its progressive policies, and its reportedly endless supply of food, Australia increasingly seems like an attractive place to live, and it begins to supplant Afghanistan as Jamal’s ideal image of home. By the end of the book, however, Jamal realizes home has little to do with geography, ancestry, or even government. While this realization originates in Jamal’s mother selling her candlestick, it really sets in after Jamal’s conversation with Andrew, an Australian soldier. Looking out at his family walking happily along the beach, Jamal realizes that even though they haven’t actually made it to Australia, “it feels like Australia” to him. As such, Jamal comes to understand that home is really about where one’s family is. Australia––the place Jamal has come to think of as his ideal home––can be anywhere so long as his family is there with him.
Immigration, Family, and Home ThemeTracker
Immigration, Family, and Home Quotes in Boy Overboard
“I hate this whole country,” says Bibi after a while. “This country is camel snot.”
I’m shocked.
Nine-year-old kids shouldn’t hate their country. They should love their country and want it to do well in the World Cup and earn the respect of other nations so they’ll stop bombing us.
‘We’ve got to get out of the house,’ he says. ‘Tonight. And we can’t ever come back.’
I feel like a landmine has exploded next to my head. My brain can hardly take in the words.
A wonderful thought hits me. We can do it together. We can improve out skills and impress the government and start a national team and win the hearts of Afghans together. When the government sees how talented Bibi is, they’ll change their minds about girls playing football. They’ll have to.
If Mum and Dad are really going to convince that government football official, they need us there too.
I feel like crying too, but instead I reach out and touch my rucksack. I want to check that my football is still packed safely. Just because I’ve never heard of any Australian football teams doesn’t mean there aren’t some good ones. I want to get all the practice I can on the way there, so I’m ready.
I stand frozen, frantically trying to think how to help Dad. The police all have guns. Any sudden movements could be fatal. But I have to do something because if I don’t, Bibi will, and I’d rather have me shot than her.
I want to go back to Australia. I saw it. Green football pitches and goalposts of solid gold and little stools for one-legged goalies to sit on. Me and Bibi winning the cup final for Dubbo Abattoirs United. I was there. Now I’m here on this deck shivering.
A lot of the men down here are looking at her. They can’t believe a female can keep going this long. They don’t understand how she can do it. I know how. Her father’s a baker.
Bibi’s asleep at last. That’s why I’m lying out here on the football pitch. So I don’t disturb her while I try and plan our future. It’s hard to plan quietly when you’re crying. I don’t want to think about the future. I don’t want to think at all. But somebody’s got to do it and Bibi’s only ten.
Down on the beach I can see Mum and Dad and Bibi walking together at the water’s edge. Even though they’re picking their way through plastic bags and rotting seaweed, they look so happy my chest fills with love and I feel so lucky.
I know this isn’t really Australia, but it feels like Australia to me.