Ten months ago, Jeanie Walker decided to buy a bigger house with more land out the back for her two daughters to play in.
But after talking it over with Icis, 11, and Violette, 10, the family instead decided to buy a house with more rooms for visitors to stay.
And it wasn't immediate family they were hoping to fill the spots.
"We already had asylum seekers living with us so we decided to buy something with more bedrooms," she says.
The 41-year-old, who works as an Aboriginal family violence case manager in Flagstaff Hill, has opened her home to eight asylum seekers in the past 18 months, some for as many as nine months.
The first – a 43-year-old father-of-four named Mohammad Ali – became an instant member of their family.
"His daughters were the same age as Violette and Icis," Jeanie says. "It was really good for us because he was a real father figure and it was extremely good for him as well, having kids around."
Mohammad Ali with Violette the first night he arrived at the Walker home from detention. (Supplied)
An early start
Jeanie Walker is used to a full house.
When her eldest daughter Tara (now 19) was growing up, she signed on to host international students so her daughter would have someone to hang out with at home.
The first, a 16-year-old Japanese student named Kaori, stayed with the Walkers for a year and became the first of many guests grateful to join the family.
After Tara finished high school, it became too tricky to house students, so Jeanie began looking elsewhere.
Through the Red Cross, she joined a homestay program and began to host asylum seekers after they were brought out of detention.
While she and her daughters enjoyed the new arrangement, her then-partner wasn't so sure.
"He felt a bit weird about it," she says.
"His father's Italian so he understands why I do that sort of thing, but that just wasn't where he was at in his life. And it was something that I wanted to continue doing."
The couple separated last year after six years together but Jeanie says the homestay arrangement wasn't the sole reason for their separation.
"I don't think it helped. But I don't think it was a massive contributor," she says.
Breaking down
The men who have lived with the family come from a range of countries including Afghanistan, Sri Lanka, Iran and Nigeria.
Jeanie says many are very young and looking for someone to call mum, and most are dealing with mental health issues such as depression and anxiety.
"Often they are quite good in the beginning because they're grateful to be somewhere and out of detention," she says. "So usually it takes a while before you start to notice how much it's actually impacting on them."
She has witnessed two suicide attempts and numerous instances of self-harming including wrist cutting and head banging.
"A lot of these people have been tortured so they don't see the significance as badly and it's got to be explained that I've got children in the house; this can't happen."
But she says her girls are tough enough to deal with the issues as they come up.
"They understand it's mental health, they understand it's nothing to do with them, they understand that person needs to see a doctor same as he would if he fell over," she says.
Language barriers
On a day-to-day basis, there are many other challenges to housing new arrivals.
Jeanie says many speak no English when they first arrive and the family has to improvise with "lots of hand signals and pointing to things."
"The girls are really good at non-verbal," she says. "They know they can't just spiel off a whole lot of stuff. They know they've got to be showing, motioning and sometimes they draw pictures."
Many of the men experience a big culture shock and take a while to adjust to elements of their new home life.
"I've got very big rescue dogs and a lot of the guys coming from Muslim countries have had no contact with dogs whatsoever, and are quite scared of them," Jeanie says.
Cooking can also be a challenge.
The family are vegans and because a lot of the men can't cook, Jeanie usually finds recipes on Google and prepares vegan versions of her guests' national cuisines.
"Often don't know they are eating fake meat," she says with a laugh.
Belonging
Jeanie, who has no religious affiliation, now arranges her house guests through a community group called .
She says messages are sent out regularly seeking places for people to stay and, if she has the room, she offers up her home.
Despite early uncertainty, Jeanie's family have also come round to her unusual living situation.
"Well a lot of my family, you'd probably say, are fairly racist," she laughs. "But no, my grandparents are great with all of them, and ask about them now."
There were 25 guests at the family's Christmas lunch this year, many of whom had formerly lived in Jeanie's home after leaving detention.
"We had DJ and four of his friends," Jeanie recalls. "Vitalis from Nigeria, Reza from Iran, Mohammad Ali from Afghanistan plus all my family."
For many, the new sense of community fills a huge void in their lives.
"A lot of people forget that a lot of the guys who come over are very, very young and have had pretty horrific lives but at the same time they've been in small villages so it's quite daunting for them to come to a big country like Australia and get ditched," Jeanie says.
And her daughters help to keep the mood bright.
"It's quite difficult to sit around and be too depressed when you've got a couple of hyperactive girls in the house."
