Nyadol Nyuon’s Painful Farewell to Australia: Identity, Belonging and Public Reckoning
Nyadol Nyuon is a prominent lawyer, corporate and government advisor, author, speaker, and media commentator known…
Black News 
Nyadol Nyuon is a prominent lawyer, corporate and government advisor, author, speaker, and media commentator known for her work on leadership, multiculturalism, social justice, and public policy in Australia. She has served on the advisory group of Rio Tinto, was a member of the Ministerial Advisory Board of Jobs and Skills Australia, and co-authored the 2024 Multicultural Framework Review. Recognised for her intellectual leadership and advocacy, she has become an influential voice on issues relating to migration, race, belonging, and national identity in contemporary Australia.
In early May 2026, Nyadon Nyuon shared a deeply personal decision, publicly announcing her intention to return her Order of Australi and leave the country indefinetely. Here is what she wrote on her Linked in page:
” As a matter of public record
You may notice that I have removed “OAM” from my profile. I have also officially written to the Governor-General’s office to begin the process of returning the Medal of the Order of Australia (OAM) I was appointed to.
This is the first step in my slow and certain process of leaving Australia and releasing my connections to this country.
I want to say something important. I am so grateful to this country. I think Australia has amazing people and amazing possibilities. I am, and will always be, indebted to it.
And yet, knowing what I was put through by Victoria University and Worksafe and the others who got involved, there is no looking away. Of course, these institutions do not represent the whole of this country. They are, however, a good enough example of what it can mean to be here, especially when you are a Black woman.
Why am I writing this publicly? Simply to ensure that the cost some of us are asked to pay is on the public record.
The next steps are to renounce my Australian citizenship and then to leave. This process requires I obtain evidence of citizenship of another country. I have been working on it.
There is no hurry. All of this will take time. I hope to use that time to say my proper goodbyes, and to mourn.
There is a lot to mourn. And grief, too, is a sign of love and of the desire to have wanted to belonged to this country.
There is a part of me that was formed in Australia. I will have to let that part die. This is a slow and painful recognition. That part of me, formed and informed by Australia, is one of the blessings I received when I was resettled as a refugee here.
One of my most beautiful memories is of an Australian Border Official at Melbourne Tullamarine Airport who, after inspecting my passport, handed it back and said: “Welcome home.” I have written about this moment before.
I wrote about what it meant for someone like me who came to Australia as a stateless refugee. Australia is the only country whose citizenship I have ever held. I’ll mourn that too. I’ll mourn this home.
From afar, wherever I land, I will always hold the best wishes for this country and its people. For now, in this transitional period, I will continue to engage, to do my best, and to offer what I can publicly and privately.
To those who have been such a big part of my journey: I am, and will forever be, grateful.
I write without hate toward anyone or anything. In fact, what is emerging is a simple sense of peace. It is the settling into this knowledge and recognition that my journey in this country has begun to end.
One of my favoured writers, David Whyte, asks us to consider that we are equal to whatever we will meet. I am taking that thinking with me.
As I look into the future with a sure recognition of what is coming, I am sometimes scared and afraid (and of course, there is also the truth that I may be making a mistake), but I can only say to myself: I will be equal to whatever I meet.”
