At approximately 12:07 at lunch time officers chased a woman down the corridor. A loud sound was heard as though someone was thrown to the ground. When we came out to see what was happening there was three officers pinning down a lady. Additional officers chased us into our rooms and locked the doors. One of the officers said, ‘She just fell and hurt herself, nothing to see.’ However at this time they had thrown a towel over her head and had her pinned down on the floor. The officers kept yelling, ‘Go into your rooms’ even though we were already in our rooms and peeking through our doors. When questioned as to what more they wanted us to do – we are already in our rooms – one female officer said very rudely, ‘Because we are telling you to go into your rooms and you wouldn’t like it if everyone was staring at you lying on the floor.’ Someone said, ‘Yes i would because then I would have witnesses to whatever was happening to me.’ Another male officer came up and said ‘we are trained to do this. This is our job so just go into your room.’ After about 15 minutes we started to peep out to see if it was OK. The corridors were clear and the doors were opened again and everyone was trying to figure out what had happened. An officer who was passing through the corridor heard us talking to each other about what we had each seen happen. He told us the lady tried to commit suicide and they were trying to prevent her from doing so. But we didn’t understand why if someone was already in a distressed state why would you pin them to the floor and throw a towel over their head? The officer said, ‘She is downstairs in the office with someone who speaks her language and she will be coming back up.’ And that’s about it for today. So far.
I came to the UK in 1996. When I was 2 years old my parents died in a car accident in Bangledesh. When they died, my mum’s brother looked after me. He was quite poor and he sold me to someone who wanted to adopt me. They took me when I was 5 years old and I was with them until I was 15 years of age. But they weren’t a good family, they were beating me, they were treating me like slave. I have a lot of marks on my body. I came with them to the UK. They made me work in a Bangledeshi take away. I was like a slave. After that some people found me working there when I was young. I told them my story and one of them looked after me. He told me not to go back to them. He said you shouldn’t work at my age. He said I could stay at his house. I stayed with them for a while. When I was 18 I worked in a Next clothes shop and Netto supermarket. In 2009, Immigration found me in the work place. They took my wallet, my bank account, my driving licence, national insurance number and they took me to the police station. It was very hard for me in the cell for one night and one day. They released me and told me to go back to see them but I didn’t go back because it was scary. I was fasting at that time, I was weak and I asked them not to keep me in the cell but they kept me.
They found me in 2013 and took me and put me in Morton Hall for 13 days. They released me and said I needed to report. Since then, for two years, I was reporting. One by one, step by step I went through my applications and different kinds of case. I put a fresh claim. Most solicitors talk nice but they work not nice for immigrants. They know my weak point because I’m not allowed to work. I changed my solicitor 10 times while in the UK. With the solicitor you write my life story but they get it wrong. I ask to see it before court but they don’t show it to me. When I go to court it sounds like I’m lying because they got it wrong.
I was signing for two years. One day, the reporting officer told me that we need to recognise me from Bangledesh and needed to speak to London high commissioner. They said we can’t recognise you because we need to see you face to face. So I needed to go to the high commissioner, I said that’s fine. When I went, it took 1 hour, and they said they can’t recognise me. They said maybe I was from Burma or from India and you came very early to the UK so we can’t recognise you. Lots of people speak Bengalie. I speak about 7 different kinds of language. They said they can’t take me sorry. I said that’s fine I don’t want to go.
I talked with them twice. They failed both times. In 2014 immigration refused everything including my fresh claim. I put in a JR and they gave me 90 days. After aeround 30 days they arrest me and they take my picture. They say that everything has finished but I say not everything is finished because I have 90 days for the JR. I say this is unlawful but they arrest me by force.
They take me to Pinine House and then Dungavel. They gave me a ticket. I had to write saying that they have failed to recognise me and they cancelled the ticket. After 4 months they said I needed to go to the commission again in London. I’ve done this twice already. I say why are you sending me again? But they have power, they can do anything. I was moved to Pennine House and then to Harmondsworth.
The High Commissioner asked me my Name and where I was born. That was it. He was very arrogant to me and to the detention officers too. He didn’t say anything to me. I went to the Gatwick detention centre with a very small room with two people on a bunk bed, with a toilet in the room, an open toilet. How can I go toilet in that – no door, no curtain nothing. I wrote to them that this is prison proper. I want to go to Dungavel. I know this is detention too, its prison, but something is better than nothing.
They sent me back to Dungavel. Altogether it was 5 months. On Saturday they forced me to go, to London. They said they have a ticket. I said no, I’ve got nothing in Bangledesh. How did you know that my asylum is wrong? For my last application they didn’t accept it, they didn’t didn’t interview. I provided with them with all the documents, but they didn’t accept anything. Maybe you have got it wrong, I said. I am now in Pennine House. Tomorrow they will take me to Harmondsworth. And Friday is my flying day. They said to me they will take me by force.
As well I’m not well. My throat is very painful. And I had a fish from Dungavel and now my throat has been bleeding a little bit some time. And I feel in pain. I’m also very depressed, I’ve been here 5 months. I’ve been given sleeping and depression tablet. They gave me these two for every day. The doctor knows everything and booked me an appointment in hospital. But I haven’t been because of this removal. This is my story and Friday is my flying day.
Anyone looking for a case study on the dark side of use of immigration detention Powers not for the purposes it was designed by the British parliament should look no further, perhaps my case has every elements of its abuse.
The Secretary of State powers of deportation was enforced whilst my deportation Appeal and Confiscation proceedings were still pending. The ulterior motive to deny me adequate time and facilities to prepare and discharge my burden of proof in Confiscation proceeding.
It is self-evident the Home Office received 50% of whatever that is recovered from offenders under Proceeds of Crime Act 2002. It is needless to say the least that early enforcement of my deportation in 23 January 2014 being declared missing whilst I remained in custody were probably to ensure that my solicitors are frustrated from booking legal visits and taking my instructions.
Despite this early fake deportation enforcement I was detained under Immigration Powers for over 21 months for enforcement of confiscation order and now sent to prison on 28th July 2015 after my family exposed plot by Crown Prosecution Services and Home Office
I’ve been in Yarl’s Wood for a year. I lost everything. I was arrested by immigration 4 years ago. My husband was disabled – I asked to be able to look after my husband but they wouldn’t let me. They said I would run away. Where am I going to run to? I have no where to go. I asked them to arrange people to look after him but they wouldn’t. He was a British man. Then my husband died six weeks after I was arrested. I don’t know where even he is buried now. And now they want to send me back. I’m an orphan and now they make me a widow. I need fight for justice. They make me depressed but I need to fight for justice. They killed my husband. Where is the justice? I’m scarred of my life. I’m scarred. My life has been trashed. I don’t want to even talk about it.
We stayed out until almost 2 o’clock. Very late. They were busy counting us outside. They were begging us to come in but we didn’t come back. They wanted to count us inside but they had to count us outside. And we were mixing around so they kept on messing the counting. They wanted us to stay still. They have to stop counting us, we are human beings. You’re not supposed to count us. We didn’t eat. Most of us didn’t go in. We’re going at 12 o’clock back out. We’ll be there.
One of the women passed out at 10 o’clock and they took her to healthcare. She’s back in her room now. The IMB woman came to check on her this morning. She cannot remember what happened yesterday. She can’t talk, she’s confused. The woman is sick, she’s tired. She’s here, she can’t even walk. We have to support her. Why is it like this?
We were chanting outside, shouting for freedom yard and a woman collapsed just now. We called the officers and the healthcare nurses came and put her on the wheel chair while she was still unconscious. They man handled her, they carried her on the wheel chair while she was still unconscious. They should have a stretcher. She was breathing. She has been taken away but we are still in the yard. We have missed roll call. There are about 50 women still here.