Tung Ngo has been a member of South Australia’s Legislative Council for over ten years. Before this, he spent his time sleepwalking, battling real pirates, challenging racism, and, at 22, becoming the first Vietnamese-born person to be elected to local government in Australia. (Image: Leia Vlahos)
By Leia Vlahos | @leiavlahos_
Warning: this story contains descriptions of sexual assault.
Tung Ngo was nine years old when he began the long journey of fleeing communist Vietnam on a small fishing boat with his family, in search of a better life in Australia.
His boat wasn’t meant to reach Australia. While onboard, his family learnt that the captain originally intended to take the money of those in need and only travel halfway before returning to Vietnam, repeating the hoax with other unsuspecting victims.
The only reason the boat made it was because a criminal was taken on board who threatened to kill the scamming boat crew if they turned back.
Decades later, Tung adjusts the plush cushions behind him and stirs his coffee in a gloomy marble building — the Parliament of South Australia — in the heart of Adelaide’s CBD.
Tung has served as a Labor Member for the Legislative Council since 2014 and wants to use his position to help others. Tung’s altruistic nature was developed long before his time in Parliament.
Somewhere along the journey across the South China Sea, Tung’s boat was intercepted and captured by Thai pirates. These pirates stole everything the migrants had: cash and jewellery alike. They were violent towards the men and raped the women on board.
“I can still see it … there was girls screaming, [the pirates] had machetes and brought women into the cabin,” he says.
Instead of having a nightmare after a particularly intense or frightening day, Tung would often sleepwalk along the railings of the unsteady fishing boat. As he speaks of his journey to Australia, his eyes disassociate, and his once smiling face falls flat. He does not remember the incident.
One night, his nine-year-old subconscious had enough.
Under the dark starry night, Tung’s small frame shot up and challenged the pirates.
“Come here!” the boy yelled, as the pirates laughed at his naïve attempt at defending his people. Tung woke the next morning with no memory of what had happened the night before.
“I remember the next morning; I sat next to this woman… she asked me, ‘Why did you do that? You shouldn’t have done that’,” he reflects.
Tung’s family told him he was lucky the pirates didn’t throw him overboard. It’s clear the politician has been altruistic since he was young.
“A little boy, they could’ve flicked you [overboard], and you would’ve been dead,” he earnestly recalls his family saying.
When Tung’s children turned a similar age, he told them the story to give them perspective.
“All these men, they just put their heads down, scared. I was the one who stood up and turned into the karate kid!” he exclaims with a laugh, an attempt at humour to downplay a clearly traumatic story.
Alongside Tung’s fascinating childhood stories are more tales of resilience in the face of hostility.
In 1995, Tung was 22 years old and elected to the City of Port Adelaide Enfield council. The win didn’t come easy. Tung was not only new to politics, perceived as far too young to be running, and subjected to frequent racism, but also faced with the very group that wanted him gone.
“The lead organiser of [several] anti-Asian immigration [rallies] was also running in my council too. The media went crazy,” he says, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. He remembers stories about him flooding television broadcasts as well as the newspaper.
The media coverage was heated, and Tung’s office received calls from across the state with a mix of compliments, complaints, and threats.
The 2000s led to the toughest anti-bikie laws at the time being passed in South Australia. Tung remembers life being far different before this reform.
He recalls the violence and anti-immigration rhetoric from bikie gangs as being out of hand. Houses were being bombed with Molotov cocktails, and anti-Asian immigration protests marched down Prospect Road fortnightly.
“I was pissing myself… my family were so scared. Suddenly, all the media was like, ‘Here’s Tung versus the bikies,’” he says.
During his council campaign, Tung had to move into emergency housing due to safety concerns.
Tung believed the white Australians wouldn’t vote for him due to the prevalent racism at the time. Alternatively, he believed the other Vietnamese migrants in the area wouldn’t vote for him in a culture where age dictates respect.
“I was 22 but looked ten… people said, ‘Tung’s stuffed. Neither will vote for him,’” he says.
Nevertheless, Tung was voted in as deputy mayor: partially due to the white Australians’ fear of the violence bikie gangs posed, and the Vietnamese migrants’ fear of the anti-immigrant views Tung’s opposition spouted.
“I had no experience in life and suddenly I was thrust into the political system,” he says. Tung’s eyes dart across the floor as he rifles through his thoughts and memories.
Being able to represent his community and express himself about the issues that mattered to him meant the world to Tung. He admits there was a period where he didn’t know how to speak out without causing more conflict or exclusion.
The politician experienced racism throughout his schooling. He recalls sitting in the principal’s office for causing trouble by fighting a peer for spouting racist ideology.
“I just couldn’t express anything but anger,” Tung says.
“I suffered a lot of racism, especially when I was at school, because we were the first non-European migrants to arrive in Australia.
“I wanted to integrate and get into the wider community to try and prove a point — we [migrants] are not bad.”
Tung’s experiences with racism are far from a rarity for those born overseas. One in five Australians has experienced race hate talk, and one in four Australians was born overseas. Of these Australians, over 300,000 were born in Vietnam, according to the Department of Home Affairs.
For Tung, these numbers and experiences aren’t abstract: they shape the way he approaches the public sector.
Tung will serve his term in the Legislative Council until 2030, trying to honour his core goal of bringing people in and preventing ostracisation. He has served on committees contributing to reviewing legislation dedicated to Aboriginal lands, the prohibition of neo-Nazi symbols and providing better education access for students with disabilities.
By combining his work advocating for multiculturalism and his personal story, Tung created what he considers his greatest achievement.
In July 2017, the Vietnamese Boat People Monument Association (VBPM) launched with Tung as the co-chairman and public officer. The organisation raised funds for the construction of a monument to acknowledge the hardship and sacrifice endured by Vietnamese refugees in their search for freedom and democracy.
The Refugee Council of Australia says in the two decades following the fall of Saigon in 1975, over three million people fled from Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos. The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees estimates that between 200,000 and 400,000 perished at sea.
This monument was unveiled in Adelaide’s parklands in February 2021.
2025 marked 50 years since the end of the Vietnamese Civil War, and the impacts of the fall of Saigon are still felt by Vietnamese migrants such as Tung.
Tung admits he doesn’t like to talk about himself and has managed to mostly avoid sharing stories of life before his political career for the past ten years.
His upbringing wasn’t smooth sailing, but it provided him with perspective, strength and a passion to help anyone in need.
“People tell me that’s my legacy,” he says.
“You never want to drive people away because that causes resentment, who knows where resentment can go.
“SA is a good place… I try to bring people in. As a politician, I’m here to serve.”
If you or someone you know needs help, contact:
1800 Respect National Helpline
Call 1800 737 732 or text 0458 737 732
1800respect.org.au
Lifeline: 13 11 14
lifeline.org.au
Survivor Hub (sexual assault support service)
thesurvivorhub.org.au/