Man who sneaked into Australia 45 years ago has lived in limbo until now

Kwong Wan Lo stowed away on a ship bound for Sydney 45 years ago.

Weeks later he disembarked from the cargo vessel and set foot on Australian soil for the first time.

It was 1981, and with no legal right to stay, he built a life anyway.

Now, at 83, he still wants to be an Australian after decades living here in limbo.

A fateful decision

Mr Lo first sought to come to Australia seven years earlier.

Born in Zhuhai in 1942, then a Cantonese village bordering Macau in southern China, he had moved to Hong Kong with his mother when he was 19, and later made a living at a cotton mill.

At the time, the colonial territory granted residency to unauthorised arrivals from mainland China who could evade border security, an arrangement known as the touch base policy.

Mr Lo said his father, a businessman in Shanghai, was accused of ties to the defeated nationalist regime Kuomintang and executed by the Chinese Communist Party when he was seven.

When his brother emigrated to Australia and later sponsored his mother, Mr Lo decided to follow.

Over about six years, he said he applied repeatedly through a scheme he called the "Overseas Nomination Program" (ONP) to migrate, but was refused every time.

The ABC could not find official records or information regarding the ONP through the Department of Home Affairs, the National Library or the National Archives of Australia.

However, nominations for relatives or friends living outside Australia have been a common occurrence for certain "allowed" countries throughout post-federation immigration, National Archives records show.

In desperation, he boarded a ship named Long Chu Island, and 18 days later, in mid-1981, arrived in Sydney.

With the help of experienced guides, and alongside a dozen other undocumented migrants, he slipped through another border, just as he had done years earlier.

A month later, he applied for a permanent entry permit. It was rejected because he had entered illegally, and his appeal was denied three years later.

"I made a mistake in coming to Australia that way, and it has overshadowed my life.

"I really should have never done that," he said.

"Everything has gone wrong since then."

The now 83-year-old had feared that he might not live to see his migration case resolved.

But this week has given him hope.

A life under the radar

Mr Lo largely managed to stay off the government's radar for the next 30 years.

He was issued a driver's licence in 1983, followed by a Medicare card and a tax file number (TFN).

"That would never happen these days, not with electronic records," he said.

His brother was running a restaurant and as his referee, he was able to get a job.

From there, he made a living working as a chef at Cantonese restaurants around Sydney, and looked after his mother.

He was a familiar face in the kitchens, yet no one knew he had no right to be in the country.

"My employers wouldn't ask once they had my TFN," Mr Lo said.

"I've paid every penny of tax from day one, on my own, without fail.

"I didn't just come here and rely on social welfare. I was always part of the workforce. For all these years, I have never received a dollar from Australia for free."

But Mr Lo said he always remained fearful of being found out.

"I felt like a hated outcast," he said.

"I couldn't possibly tell anyone who I am all these years."

Perry Q Wood, managing partner at Australian Migration Lawyers, said it was very unusual that Mr Lo had managed to remain in Australia for so long without holding a visa or being detained by the authorities and removed.

"He would have found day-to-day existence very difficult," Mr Wood said.

Searching for a resolution

Mr Lo said his brother, Ronald, "died tragically" in a diving accident in the early 1990s.

And after his mother died in 2014, Mr Lo was forced to move out of the government-funded senior home that was registered under her name.

It also prompted him to resolve his residency status once and for all.

With some pro bono help from an immigration agent, he lodged an application for a Resident Return visa, which was rejected because he had never legally been a permanent resident.

The federal immigration minister has the power to grant residency visas if they believe it is in the public interest but only once the applicant has a ruling from a tribunal.

Mr Lo's first request for ministerial intervention was refused in 2017, followed by more visa applications and more denials.

Instead of getting finality, he was left in limbo.

"I was on pins and needles — without an identity," he said.

The government made no moves to detain or remove him, but he was required to obtain a new bridging visa every three months.

Unable to work, he now lives off his meagre life savings in a decaying, crowded subdivided flat in Sydney's inner west.

Over the years, Mr Lo has developed a local network of supporters, but they can only provide limited help.

Facing chronic health issues and rising cost of living, he limits what he spends on food and other needs.

He cannot afford a much-needed hearing aid.

"I rely on a loaf of bread for every two days,"

he said.

He was afraid he might end up homeless and hoped through resolving his case, he could get some welfare support.

Is he stateless?

Mr Lo was referred to a government-run returns program, which assists voluntary departures but can also help obtain travel documents.

Chinese nationality primarily passes by descent, and Hong Kong grants permanent residency, a "right of abode", to Chinese citizens who lived there for at least seven years before 1997, a description that, on the dates, appears to fit him.

However, the main difficulty appears to be evidentiary rather than legal. Mr Lo's attempts to obtain identity and residency papers have been complicated by a lack of supporting documentation.

He has never held a passport. His only form of ID is an expired colonial-era Hong Kong identity card.

A tribunal case file seen by the ABC indicates Mr Lo has a wife and children in Hong Kong, whom he said he has lost contact with since 1987.

Mr Lo believed he was "stateless".

"Australia doesn't accept me, Hong Kong and China won't recognise me either," he said.

Katie Robertson, associate director of the University of Melbourne's Peter McMullin Centre on Statelessness, said Australia had no formal system for identifying who was stateless, leaving it to applicants to show that no country recognised them.

"Essentially, the system requires them to 'prove a negative'."

However, she adds that an inability to obtain identity documents does not, by itself, establish statelessness.

The Hong Kong immigration authorities said they would not comment on individual cases to the media.

'I'd rather die in Australia'

Despite his situation, Mr Lo said he would not return to Hong Kong or mainland China, even if they would welcome him back.

He said he still carried a deep-rooted fear and resentment of the Chinese authorities.

"I'd rather die in Australia. One is nothing without freedom.

"I won't return to China even if they allow me back or offer me a big house.

"Look at what's happened to Hong Kong the past few years," he said, referring to the crackdown on democracy and freedom under a sweeping national security law.

"They made Hong Kong an utterly different place than what I recognised. There's no freedom anymore."

Despite his situation, he said living in Australia was a blessing.

"I can say in public here whether I dislike Labor or the Liberal Party. But would I dare to say out loud in Hong Kong today that I don't like the chief executive or the police commissioner?

"Even under such unfortunate circumstances today, I can do whatever I want here."

'Freedom is what I truly want'

In June 2020, Mr Lo filed another request for ministerial intervention, but it was derailed by a High Court decision in 2023 that found the guidelines governing intervention requests were unlawful.

Since 2016, departmental officers had been screening out cases they judged were not "unique or exceptional" — but that judgement, the court held, amounted to deciding what was in the public interest, and only a minister could do that.

The government finalised new rules in September 2025 and told Mr Lo he needed to lodge a fresh application under the new criteria.

Mr Lo filed a third application for ministerial intervention earlier this year.

Jimmy Morcos, principal lawyer at Morcos Law Group, said applications must now be decided by the minister themselves if they meet "strict, pre-defined objective criteria".

However, he said the new rules turned on factors that fitted Mr Lo's situation: long residence, health, no right of return and extreme vulnerability.

"This case presents a compelling humanitarian picture under the 2025 ministerial intervention criteria."

In a turn of events last week, the ABC can confirm Immigration Minister Tony Burke has decided to grant Mr Lo permanent residency, after the ABC initially contacted the minister for comment on the case in May.

A letter addressed to Mr Lo with the decision said Mr Burke had considered his case and "decided to exercise the public interest power in your case to substitute the decision of the Tribunal with a more favourable decision".

Mr Lo, elated by the news, said it was the first time he "felt happy" in more than 40 years.

He said the years of visa paperwork, waiting for decisions and refusals had been exhausting.

Mr Lo said he grew accustomed to loneliness and felt like "a caged bird".

Over 40 years he had done everything he could to be a good citizen, he added.

He hopes residency will give him access to some support and a better home in his last years. But what he describes wanting is simpler than that.

"I just want an identity and ask nothing more," he said.

"I wish to be relieved and no longer be in anxiety and isolation endlessly."

Sarah Dale, director and principal solicitor at the Refugee Advice and Casework Service (RACS), said they were relieved to see "the right decision being made for Mr Lo".

"Cases like his is the reason ministerial intervention exists and should be exercised," she said.

"It has been rare for us over the years, but the system has worked."

Mr Lo said he appreciated Australia's national spirit of empathy and justice.

"I wish to express my gratitude to the minister, the government and anyone who's ever supported me."

Mr Lo said due to his own difficulties, he could not do anything for his children, now in their 50s to 60s, whom he had to leave in Hong Kong.

"I wonder whether my daughter and son are doing OK," he said.

In a year's time, Mr Lo hopes to become an Australian citizen, and obtain a passport for the first time.

"I'm not thinking about travelling anywhere right now. Spending my final years somewhere with democracy and freedom is what I truly want."