Australia lost a large part of its innocence the day two hostages were killed during the Lindt Cafe siege 10 years ago, says survivor Louisa Hope.
Hope and her mother Robin were trapped in the cafe for 16 long hours in 2014 in a nightmare stand-off which saw Tori Johnson and Katrina Dawson die along with terrorist Man Monis.
On that day – and in the decade since the deadly December 15 attack – Australia irrevocably changed, Hope told 9news.com.au.
“In other attacks like in Bondi [in April this year], violence is the same, but if it’s terrorism, it’s somehow different for all of us,” Hope said.
“That in a way has to do with the fact that when you are a victim of terror, you become the state.
“The terrorist isn’t interested in you as an individual, far from it.
“Their attack and their assault is on the state and for us that’s the nation of Australia.”
Not only were they humans who were entitled to their lives, but they were exceptional human beings. And it’s heartbreaking that we have lost them.
Hope, her late mother and 16 other hostages became reluctant comrades during those long hours trapped in the cafe.
They had known each other for less than a day, but Hope said she still remembers Dawson and Johnson like old friends.
“Technically we only knew each other for 16-odd hours,” Hope explained.
“The fact of the matter is, Tori and Katrina in one way or another are with me every day.
“I carry grief about them all the time.
“Not only were they humans who were entitled to their lives, but they were exceptional human beings. And it’s heartbreaking that we have lost them.”
Cafe manager Johnson was shot dead by the gunman Monis.
Dawson, a lawyer, died from gunshot wounds when police stormed the Lindt cafe.
Hope also carries a permanent reminder of the ordeal on her body.
Police shrapnel from the shooting blew a crater in her foot and gives her constant nerve pain.
“It’s there every day, it’s a reminder,” she said solemnly.
“I had a conversation just recently with one of the hostages and they said they wake up with it every morning and go to sleep with it every night.
In the decade since the siege brought Sydney and the rest of the country to a chilling standstill, Hope has used her trauma to further an important cause.
She was spellbound by the incredible treatment she received by hospital staff and decided to start the Louisa Hope Fund For Nurses.
This soon turned her into a spokesperson of sorts for the siege survivors.
“As a consequence of that, the Prince of Wales Hospital was fundraising for the fund. They asked me to come and speak, and usually people are particularly interested in the siege,” she said.
“I started speaking about the siege, and then it just kind of kept snowballing.”
Hope is also involved in the newly created Victims of Terrorism Australia (VOTA), which provides support for fellow terrorism victims and survivors.
It’s a club that it’s hard to fathom would be needed in Australia back in 2014.
“There’s been far more terrorist attacks that Australians have been involved in than we even think about or remember,” Hope said.
“What’s surprised me since we launched VOTA is the way people who’ve been involved in other terrorist attacks have come out of the woodwork… just sitting quietly with their own [trauma].”
“We are all collectively part of the countering of terrorism in our whole community,” she added.
“We can do that by just being our ordinary selves.”
