Melbourne Baker Opens Doors to Fire Evacuees, Remembers 2006

Chris Mansour remembers arriving in Australia with absolutely nothing in his wallet, displaced by war and depending entirely on strangers for survival.

When catastrophic bushfires swept across Victoria this month, burning more than 400,000 hectares and forcing thousands to evacuate, the Melbourne baker saw himself in every displaced family. He posted a simple message on Facebook offering free food, drinks, phone charging, and shelter for up to 50 people at his OneWay Lebanese Bakery.

"I'm indebted to Australia because back in 2006 I was in the same position as the people that are evacuating the fires now," Mansour told SBS Arabic. "I know what it's like to have nothing."

The fires burned simultaneously across more than 100 separate areas, destroying almost 900 buildings including more than 250 homes. Country Fire Authority chief officer Jason Heffernan said some areas exceeded conditions seen during Black Saturday in 2009, when 173 people died.

Mansour's January 9 post reached far beyond his expectations. Within days, it had generated 2.2 million views, along with countless calls, messages, and Google reviews from people across Victoria.

Many who messaged him never made it to the bakery but wanted to reach out anyway. "I think it gave them that feeling that I wanted to pass on, even without them coming to the shop they felt that someone out there cares for them," he said.

Sunny's Take

What makes this story extraordinary isn't just one person's generosity. It's the living proof that kindness compounds across decades and borders.

When Australian authorities evacuated Mansour and his family from Lebanon in 2006, they provided shelter, food, and drinks. "I'll never forget that feeling of comfort knowing someone out there actually cares," he said.

Twenty years later, that memory didn't just stay with him as a warm feeling. It became action when his adopted community needed him most.

Mansour describes his relationship with Australia simply: "Australia is the mother that raised me but didn't give birth to me." For him, opening his doors wasn't charity but repayment, though he insists nothing he does will ever fully pay back what this country gave him.

His message also carries weight beyond the immediate crisis. "The bad message always travels faster than the good message," he noted, adding that people don't always see the good contributions migrants make to their communities.

For those still displaced or facing uncertain futures, Mansour offers the same reassurance he once needed: "Things will get better and they always do."