Nyachan Nyak, Founder and CEO, Nas Recovery Centre LTD

The Gatekeepers of Money 

“Growing up in refugee camps, I learned about money in a very practical way. For us, money was about survival. 

All I knew was that money was not local; it was coming from abroad and controlled by the Gatekeepers. It felt like waiting for a lifeline thrown from a distant shore. Sometimes it would come, and sometimes it wouldn't.

1. You knew money didn't visit because there would be little food; meals would go missing for days or even weeks. There would be no smell of nice food wafting through the air.

2. You knew money hadn't shown up when you were wearing the same flip-flops that kept coming apart, held together only by a pin or a stick. 

3. We felt the absence of money through a vibe check: the quieter Compound vs the hope that filled the air when financial aid arrived from afar. 

Yet, the absence of money didn’t stop the play, storytelling, and dancing in the rain or sunshine. 

I don’t recall my father and my stepmum talking about money. They never complained, perhaps because they knew the Gatekeepers also had challenges, besides everyone was in the same boat. 

We didn’t talk about dreams or plans; it was all about making sure we had enough for the next meal. 

My money story changed when I moved to Australia in October 2002. 

Here, money had a different meaning. 

By the age of 18, I moved out to live in shared accommodation, and with clear financial choices. To pay my share, buy my stir-fry ingredients, or go roofless and hungry. 

I quickly took charge, landing a retail job where I excelled at upselling in such a therapeutic way that customers kept coming back for more. I made more in commission than my contract wages. 

With each paycheck, I realized that money could be more than just a means of survival; it could be a source of accumulated confidence and empowerment. 

When I turned 18, I got my first credit card and made a classic rookie mistake. Excited to buy a new dress, I splurged 80% of my limit on GASP Designs and spent the rest on a house party, only to lose the dress the very next day. That’s a story for another day. 

However, the pain of that mistake followed me for months as I scrambled to pay back double the amount I borrowed. 

Each of these experiences taught me that money can come and go, and I needed to be smart about it. So I became smart! 

Becoming smart means understanding that while you can make money, you also need a strategy for how it will serve you in the long run. 

Without compromising the values I developed in my early life about staying content and living in the moment, my spending behaviour isn’t as if every day is my last. This is where I do a little plug for The Barefoot Investor and She Is On The Money—not sponsored or anything! Just some good advice I picked up along the way.  

Suddenly I found myself in a position where I could be a lifeline to others (a "pay it forward" type of situation), driven mostly by survivor's guilt and a strong sense of responsibility for the family I left behind. 

In the last year or two, I’ve tightened my boundaries and quieted the internal dialogue.  

Now I choose how much I can give when I can, and evaluate the exact needs I am trying to address with my living abroad “privileges.”

Like many refugees and migrants with families stuck in unsafe parts of the world, I still wrestle with the thought that relatives rely on me for their next meal. 

I continually ask myself how long they will continue to rely on me. Where is the balance? I’m still figuring out the answers. 

Today, I sit in a comfortable house, able to cover breakfast, lunch, dinner, and even snacks!  

I am determined to understand money so my children may have a better money story.

I am the captain now.”