suicide

My journey as a refugee from the war in Yemen till now – there’s always imprisonment and detention waiting for me.

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A Yemini asylum seekers tells us his experiences of coming to the UK and his fears about his removal on the 17th September

My brothers and I arrived in the UK on June 24. This was our third attempt. On the first attempt, the engine stopped, and the second time, the boat started sinking. My younger brother can’t swim so he started drowning, but thank God I was able to help him and we came back. 

As we were close to arriving, we saw that the fuel on the boat was running out. We signalled to a ship to help us. It came close and we saw it was a French war ship. We panicked. We had been there for 6-7 hours already in the boat. We weren’t at all comfortable, and we were terrified – we felt we would drown. The French ship came close and asked if we needed help. We said no we don’t need anything. We preferred to stay in the sea for hours than to go back to France. 

They started laughing at us. We were terrified. After 30 mins we saw a British boat – when we saw the British flag we felt – I can’t explain it – we felt like the efforts had all paid off, we were overjoyed. We were in British waters. We finally arrived at a place called Dover. 

We were exhausted, we’d been travelling at sea from 4pm to 7-8am the next morning. But when we arrived, they didn’t let us rest; they photographed us, searched us, asked us lots of questions, where we’re from, how old we are, etc. But there were no translators, so I tried to translate because I know a little English. Then they put us in a bus and took us to a police station. The police were very serious, they didn’t smile or anything; the joy that was in our hearts from arriving there meant we didn’t care about their treatment. They weren’t happy at all. Even the doctors in Dover weren’t happy. Maybe because lots of boats arrived that day. When I arrived, I had seen my friends from Calais that had also arrived. We saw the police’s faces – they weren’t happy at all that we had arrived.

We had to stay in the police station for many hours – I can’t remember how many. Maybe 5 hours or more. There were more proceedings to be carried out – apparently the questions they asked in Dover weren’t enough. We waited some more before they put us back on the bus. They told us we were near London. We went to a detention centre. It was made up of rooms, each with a toilet. It was like a prison. 

I was there for 4-5 days. They gave us clothes, because our own clothes were full of sea water. We were happy even though we were in prison, because we were with our friends and we had arrived in the UK. Each day we were happier. After 4 days they did another interview with us. Why did you come to the UK? We said we want to claim asylum. They asked more and more questions.

The guards were very angry. I would ask for something, like I wanted a remote. They would say ‘Do you think you’re in a five star hotel? You’re in prison’. They were harsh with us. We asked for a cup to drink from, anything, even a plastic one. They gave us a disposable plastic one which we threw away after using. The next day they said ‘Where is your cup? You already had one’. No-one spoke Arabic. Many of us don’t speak English. Rather than trying to understand, they would shout at us. They were harsh with us, but we had to put up with it. We had to be quiet and take it – we’re refugees. 

Then they moved us to the hotels. It’s called Holiday Inn, and it was 5 stars. Of course, imagine, guys coming from the forest in Calais, where it’s freezing cold and you’re sleeping on the ground and facing racism from the French police and even from other refugees. Imagine going from that to a 5 star place, it was like heaven to us – there was a bath. To wash in Calais there was always an enormous queue. We would wait for hours just to wash for 5 minutes. They would say: ‘Here’s the water, go go go,’ and we would have to rush to wash. So when we were in this hotel and saw a proper bath we couldn’t believe it. We also had no opportunity to wash our clothes in Calais but here we could. We had what we needed, except for money. Food and drink was provided at the hotel. We were there for a month. They said it was because they had to check about coronavirus and that we would stay for 15 days, but it ended up being longer. 

After one month, we began communicating with an organisation which could help with residence and food. We were talking to them daily to ensure we could live together, me and my brothers. My father was already in the UK, and we wanted to see him and go and live with him. 

We were moved into a house after one month in the hotel, and our father was moved into the same house. When we saw our father, we were so happy. My mother, who is not in the UK, was also delighted that we were together again. But we were only together for one or two weeks. Every day was joy. We cooked, laughed together, like any family. We had breakfast, lunch and dinner together, we went out together and did everything together. We went looking to see if we could study. We had ambitions. 

All this time we were hearing about people being detained. We were terrified that it would be our turn next. After all this exhaustion and everything that had happened, and then the joy of seeing our father, it would be so hard to be taken away. 

It was a Friday, we were at home, and I was studying English. We had planned to go out that day to sort out some insurance papers. The house was nice; it had bedrooms, a bathroom and even a garden where we could plant things. We were thinking of planting onions and tomatoes. 

Around 5 or 6pm, I heard sounds on the stairs. I heard more than ten people. They were really loud on the stairs. I didn’t expect there would be 10 police or people from immigration coming to get us. I thought we might get a letter from the Home Office or something. There were 10 or maybe more people. Straight away, when we opened the door one of them started shouting at us. I was really scared. They pushed themselves in. Said empty your pockets. I felt hopeless. They said you are going to be deported to Spain. 

They didn’t let us say goodbye to our father. They took us away, all three of us. We said to him, inshallah we will see you soon, and then we left. I had hoped the neighbours would come out and help us, and stop them taking us away. They tried to put each one of us in a vehicle, but in the end put me and my older brother in one bus, and my younger brother in a second bus. They took us to a police station. It was terrifying. There was an iron bed with a really thin mattress, we felt the iron more than the sponge of the mattress. After 5 or 6 hours they took me away by myself, and I asked where my brothers were. They said something about the coronavirus. They took us to Brook House – my brothers were together but I wasn’t with them. 

As soon as I arrived, I met people from Syria and Yemen, and I knew many of them from Calais. We greeted each other, saying we hope we all get out soon. But I still couldn’t see my brothers. I didn’t see them for five days. I kept looking for them and asking them where they were. I told them I would hurt myself if I didn’t see them. Finally, five days later I saw them. 

We tried to refuse eating, to show them that we were protesting what was happening. They treated us like criminals. We went on a hunger strike for 4 days. At first the Serco employees encouraged us nicely to eat, but then they changed their attitude and started saying ‘You will be deported in any case, the Home Office won’t change their minds, so what are you doing?’ After 4 days, they wore us down, a few of the guys started eating so we decided to eat too. Luckily there was an organisation which put us in touch with good lawyers. My lawyer would call me almost every day and follow up with my case, and she told me that I had a strong case and that I should be patient. She also referred us to a good psychiatrist who followed up with us. She helped us on lots of different levels. We owe her a lot.

The problem we are in now is one of life and death. Our first deportation ticket was Sep 3, for me and other guys from Syria and Yemen. Thank God, my ticket was cancelled. But sadly about 10 or 11 people from Syria were deported to Spain. The way they were deported was as if they were criminals. 3 people from Serco would go to the room to take just one person. Overall there were about 25-30 people from Serco there on Sep 3 to remove the group to the flight. They were giving us awful looks and didn’t say anything nice to us. We tried to say hello to them and they said nothing, they didn’t smile, nothing. 

The treatment was terrible, some of the Syrians would say things like ‘even in Syria it wasn’t like this’. 

I was terrified after I saw this on Sep 3. I went back to my room, but heard their shouts from my room. The shouts of the detainees, and the shouts of the police. I was terrified. I felt like I was hearing executions and waiting for my own. I saw them being dragged away, handcuffed. 

I went on another hunger strike for 5 days, because we heard that those in Spain were abandoned on the street, and I felt like my turn was next. The Serco guys would come every day and say ‘You’re about to be deported, why are you striking?’ 

After 5 days I started eating again. The lawyer was encouraging me and telling me that my case was strong. She said that if it goes to court, there should even be compensation because of the way they took me. But despite that, I felt despair, and for the first time ever I thought of suicide. I was homeless in the Netherlands and in Spain, but the first time I thought of suicide was in the detention centre. Thinking of the three huge guards in black who would come to my room and take me by force. I had nightmares about it. I was angry. I’m not an angry guy but I was so angry. I felt hopeless. 

They put me on the red list, which means people who are a suicide risk. They came every day to check my room. I tried to move away from those thoughts. Slowly my mental health got a bit better. But today is the 15th and I have a deportation order for 17th. So the thoughts of suicide are getting stronger. I am trying to stay with the guys here to stop thinking about it. Every day the fear is getting worse. 

After everything that has happened, I have no more faith in the security services, in the Home Office, anything. After the raids and everything. The house with my father is the only place I feel safe. This is the life of the refugee and the migrant. My journey as a refugee from the war in Yemen till now – there’s always imprisonment and detention waiting for me.

They will sleep rough, there is no support, they are homeless.

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From a person in Brook House IRC:

They deal with us well here, but detention is bad.

When you put an asylum seeker in prison its difficult.

We are on hunger strike, because we need to know why they deported our friends today. 12 people, now they are homeless.

We feel sorry about our friends who were detained and taken to Spain, we received a call from them, they say that the government doesn’t give them accommodation or support, they will sleep in the street. They will sleep rough, there is no support, they are homeless.

That happened today, and because of that we are on food strike. Thirty people.

Maybe half us have been on food strike already for 15 days – they have lost more than 10 kilos of weight.

We will be on strike until we are released, because we are not criminals, we are not dangerous.

We are just asylum seekers.

They put us in a room, they close the door from 9pm till 9am, inside the room. 7 people tried to commit suicide during the past month. So when we hear that about our friends, committing suicide and being deported to live on the streets, its bad news, we are frustrated, we can’t sleep.

So maybe 80% of us have psychological problems – lack of sleep, no appetite.

Some of them said that ‘had we known that we’d be put in prison we’d prefer to die in our country than to claim asylum’.

There is no dignity here for a human.

We will be patient until we see what will happen. Everyone waits for his destiny. We don’t know if they will deport us or release us, we don’t know. And deporting is not an easy decision to take, it changes a life. It changes life. It takes way dignity. Someone lives in peace, and they make them homeless. I’s too much to handle. Can you imagine that, 12 people who were sent today to Spain, they beg just for a blanket to sleep, and no-one gives it them.

I ask my friends every day in the morning: ‘is it to reach this life that I jeopardised my soul and my money, coming by the sea?’ – it was so dangerous for everyone to reach here. We already faced such a bad and harsh life in our country, so to face it more here is something difficult.

That’s our story.

Brook House protestor on his deportation: “I was still bleeding, there was blood everywhere.”

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This statement was given after the persons charter flight deportation to France from the UK under the Dublin Regulation. They had been part of hunger strike protests since August 13th 2020. The night before their removal, 8 people attempted suicide and 3 were taken to hospital at Brook House IRC.

I was in the UK for 2 months and then I spent 1 month in Brook House. While I was in Brook House I had a lot of anxiety issues. I tried to see a doctor, but could only see him once a week.

On the night of the deportation I self-harmed before the flight and they took to me to the hospital. I was there for 4 and half hours, they said to come back to change the bandages the next day and check my injuries. But they didn’t follow the advice of the doctor, they deported me the next day.

When they took me back to Brook House from the hospital I was put in an isolation cell and was watched 24/7. I was in the cell for 6 hours, they transported me from the hospital to the cell in a wheelchair. I was still in a wheelchair when 4 guards took me to the car which drove me to the airport. They put a mask on me but I was still bleeding from my face. When we reached the airplane, they couldn’t put the wheelchair on the plane, they didn’t try to. I couldn’t get up and move, two of the guards had to pick me up and carry me on their shoulders onto the airplane.

I was tied with a cloth around my hands and my waist. There were four guards with me and during the whole flight, they sat next to me, one on either side and in front.

I was in a lot of pain, I was still bleeding, there was blood everywhere. When we reached Clermont Ferrand in France, the guards had to carry me off the plane on their shoulders again. They took me to a doctor who tested me for coronavirus and finally gave me a wheelchair to sit in. Another doctor came to see if they could deport me immediately from France and put me on another flight, but said my injuries were too bad for me to be deported again. They didn’t check to help me, just for procedure. They took me in the wheelchair, and drove me 15 minutes away to sign some papers to give my fingerprints. They gave me two different pieces of information, they said I need to leave the country immediately but the translator told me I need to sign on every 15 days. I’m very confused. I tried to go to the UK and they sent me back to France and now France want to send me back to Kuwait, I don’t know what to do.

I’m now being helped by some friends, but now I need to leave because I can’t stay. I don’t know what to do, I’m so confused. Where am I supposed to go? There’s no humanity.

Brook House protestor on his deportation: “It was the hardest night of my life.”

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This statement was given after the persons charter flight deportation to France from the UK under the Dublin Regulation. They had been part of hunger strike protests since August 13th 2020. The night before their removal, 8 people attempted suicide and 3 were taken to hospital at Brook House IRC.

Telephone interview with a deportee from Britain to France August 27, 2020, 2:00 pm

Q: How do you feel on the night of your deportation from Britain?

A: It was the hardest night of my life. Break heart so great that I seriously thought of suicide, I put the razor in my mouth to swallow it; I saw my whole life pass quickly until the first hours of dawn.

The treatment in detention was very bad, humiliating and degrading. I despised myself and felt that my life was destroyed, but it was too precious to lose it easily. I took the razor out from my mouth before I was taken out of the room, where four large-bodied people, wearing armour similar to riot police and carrying protective shields, violently took me to the large hall at the ground floor of the detention, I was exhausted, as I had been on hunger strike for several days. In a room next to me, one of the deportees tried to resist and was beaten so severely that blood drip from his nose. In the big hall, they searched me carefully and took me to a car like a dangerous criminal, two people on my right and left, they drove for about two hours to the airport, there was a big passenger plane on the runway, we were 12 people deported and each person had four guards inside the plane, and I saw a large number of people in uniform on the plane. That moment, I saw my dreams, my hopes, shattered in front of me when I entered the plane.

I fled the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia after I was beaten in public in front of people and tortured in prison, and upon my arrival in Britain, I felt temporary safety and that life gave me a new opportunity for a decent life and dignity.

A month after my arrival in Britain, I applied to study a bachelor’s degree in business administration online and got admission. I was staying in Birmingham temporarily while awaiting the completion of the interview procedures for my asylum application.

My ambition was great to complete my higher education and to bring my wife to Britain, and my dreams to serve people and society and support the country that opened a new human life for me.

It was the shock of life until the blood in my veins dried up throughout the period of detention and I spent the time sitting on my bed in an unbelievable state of amazement, sweating day and night and my temperature rose despite the cold weather in the room.

I was the only Yemeni in the plane, among the rest of the Iraqi and Kuwaiti nationalities, and one of them was full of blood on his clothes, face and body because of his attempt to kill himself. We arrived in Germany after 3 hours of transit and then to France for another 3 hours.

We took off from Stansted Airport via a company called Titan Airways based of Stansted Airport. I learned that previously there was a military base used for deportation.

Upon our arrival in France, the French police was there waiting for us, and we were handed a paper with the address of the place where we were previously fingerprinted and an address for follow-up.

The French authorities did not provide any form of humanitarian support, even water, as the simplest example.

Currently, I am trying my best to help the rest who are at risk of deportation, by contacting several charitable and human rights organizations.

Entry to Britain will not stop due to the very bad conditions in France and the inhumane treatment there, where refugees are left on the streets exposed to dangers and diseases, especially with the spread of the Corona epidemic among refugees in Calais camps, in which the French authorities do not take the necessary measures to protect them, as refugees expel those who were infected and isolating.

Attempts to smuggle into Britain continue, as many have told me here. I don’t have any expenses or money to struggle to survive. If I obtained safety in France, the right to residency, and the right to work, I would not think of asylum elsewhere, and I would be useful for society and the country, but France does not fulfil the minimum of its humanitarian responsibility towards refugees.

End.

I was just so happy to be back in the UK closer to the memories of my Parents

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“I was born in Clapton, London, in 1984. My Mother, Father and I lived in the UK together in a house and my Aunt regularly visited – my Aunt was residing in the UK at the time and has continued to reside in the UK until today. She is a British National.

My parents took me to Ghana at the age of five in 1989 for a holiday with the intention to return to the UK. Unfortunately for me they died not long after we arrived in Ghana in a car accident. I was not with them in the car but I was told by my Uncle about what had happened. I do not remember much as I was very young. The only relative I had in Ghana was a long-distance family friend who was not blood related but I called him my ‘Uncle’. He looked after me in Ghana after the passing of my parents. My Aunt and Uncle from the UK sent money regularly to him to look after me.

Travel to UK at the Age of 17/18

My ‘Uncle’ in Ghana who took care of me, arranged for me to return back to the UK when I was 17/18 years old because I had immediate family living there who were very willing to take care of me; my Aunt and Uncle in the UK also realised I was always sad and felt disconnected to Ghana because I kept on saying to them since I was little I wanted to go back home to the UK as that is what I always have considered my home. My ‘Uncle’ in Ghana gave me a Ghanaian passport to use for travel to the UK. As far as I was concerned there was no issues with this passport.

When leaving Ghana to travel to the UK, my ‘Uncle’ told me to hand the passport he gave me to a man in London as soon as I got to England, so it would be returned back to him as he said I was a British Citizen and did not need a Ghanaian passport. I did not know any better and did not know the system and thought this was normal. My ‘Uncle’ also gave me my birth Certificate showing that I was born in the UK.

I arrived in the UK in October 2002 at Heathrow Airport and soon after handed the passport to this man in London. That’s the last time I saw that passport.

Life in UK Once Arriving from GHANA

I continued my life in the UK and lived with my Aunt and she supported me and helped me get into college. I felt like I was once again close to my own family and the memories I had of my parents. It was like I returned home after all these years.

My British Birth Certificate enabled me to get a driver’s license and other identity documents including my national insurance number. I believed I was a British citizen and was entitled to all this by virtue of being born in the UK.

I went to College at Conel College of North East London in 2002, studied Construction but did not finish. I dropped out in 2004, moved out of my Aunt’s apartment because I wanted to be independent and started working part time at a retail supermarket in Enfield.

In 2006 I also worked in Marble Arch as a shop floor assistant and a stockroom assistant.

Shortly after been made redundant because the company was cutting down on staff, in 2008 I got a job at a shop in Chingford as a cashier. Later on in 2011 I was given a 1 bedroom flat in Enfield on housing benefit because I couldn’t support myself without a job for about a year until my personal case worker at the job centre helped me find a temporary job at a supermarket warehouse in Waltham Cross as Packer.

I voted and literally did everything a British citizen would be able to do. The only thing I did not think of claiming was my British passport, because I was young, naïve and never had any plans to travel at that time. I was glad to be back in the UK where I had fond childhood memories of my loving parents (which were my last memories of them). All my memories of them are based in the UK and coming back here felt as if I was closer to them.

EMPLOYMENT WITH NHS

Eventually, hard work in my studies and employment provided me with a great opportunity with the NHS (National Health Service) as a Social Therapist in 2014, at a medium security hospital for mental patients. I finally felt like my life was grounded and going somewhere as I had secured a career job and felt my parents of late would have been proud of me. However, little did I know that this would prove to be a massive nightmare the effects of which I am still facing today.

As a Social Therapist my role was to interact with patients with mental illness socially or on a 1 on 1 basis to help them recover and help change their way of life for the better. On one of the night shifts there was an incident on another ward at the centre and I was radioed and told to report to the ward to help de-escalate the situation. Unfortunately, things went out of proportion and there was a riot on the ward and I got assaulted and injured badly. This has affected my teeth and caused injury to my neck.

The NHS refused to compensate me when my injury lawyers approached them. And I was not even given any counselling.

I was told by my manager that they would refer me to a dentist to help fix my teeth back to how it was before and I would get physiotherapy for my neck pain. However, this never happened.

ISSUES WITH HOME OFFICE

I was sent a letter by the Home Office whom had classed me as an immigrant which got me so confused and shocked, because I was born in England and before you even work for the NHS you have to be screened by the Home Office and police.


I sought advice from the Home Office on the phone on what to do to resolve my issue. I was told to naturalize since I was born in the UK and also since I was not able to provide one of my parent’s passports.

I went ahead to pay and completed The Life in The UK test, passed and put my application in with my British Birth Certificate and paid £1,080 for the application fee.

But the application was refused on the basis that I was not entitled to work, which is not true because I have a national insurance number and have worked for many years and paid taxes. I became very frustrated, depressed and confused.


I asked for advice from an immigration solicitor, who requested for my Home Office immigration history which stated on the first paragraph that I was born in the United Kingdom but also had history of me coming into the country in 2002 with a Ghanaian passport and also, they claim I acquired a student visa from Ghana in 2007. This is impossible because I have not left the UK since I returned in 2002. I told my solicitor about how my ‘Uncle’ helped me return to England in 2002 and that I didn’t know much about the passport but I was told to give it to a man when I arrived and that was the last time I saw that passport.

The solicitors advised me that I should leave the matter with them to resolve it because it looked like the Home Office had two identifications with the same name and date of birth but two different places of birth and it looked like they were confused giving the decision for my naturalisation. The solicitor believed that the Home Office had made a mistake.

In the meantime, I was requested by the Home Office to be reporting and signing on at their main office at London Bridge once every month, I signed on every month and never missed a date.

My solicitor made an application and added additional grounds for consideration for the Home Office. I did not agree with this because my solicitor should have concentrated on the naturalisation rather than making an application for additional grounds. The reasons for refusal of my naturalisation was wrong and incorrect and my solicitor should have addressed this. However, she said that the Home Office asked her to make an additional grounds application. I do not have this application.

DEPORTATION

On one of my signings at the Home Office, I was called into an interview room and was told I will be detained until further notice. I had no notice and this happened all so fast. I spent three weeks in a detention centre in Oxford and was granted bail by a Judge. My Aunt and Uncle had to travel from London to Wales to represent me as surety’s and they put a £1,500 bond for my release. I was given the condition of staying at my Aunt’s address and I was still required to report for signing at the Home Office in London Eaton House until my issue was resolved.

A few weeks later I went to the Home Office to sign on as I was told to but they went ahead and detained me again without any notice.


I immediately contacted my solicitor but she said she couldn’t help me and also she was on holidays. So, I had no option but to raise up money again and look for another solicitor.

This time I was taken to Harmondsworth Detention Centre. I was there for a few weeks because trying to apply for bail there was like a myth. I had difficulties in trying to acquire a solicitor but eventually I applied for bail on my own and had a court hearing date. I even remember reading the news and finding out that “DEPORT FIRST AND APPEAL LATER “was ruled unlawful”.

On the night before my bail court hearing day, in the middle of the night I was forced out of my cell by 4 officers onto a military plane at an unknown military base and was told I was being deported to Ghana. It all happened too fast and I kept on asking how come I was not notified about this and I had not been shown any travelling documents. I also told the officer I was not well and I had been accessed by the doctor and been prescribed anti-depressants which was meant to be administered to me that same week but they ignored me. I kept telling them that my bail hearing was in the morning but they ignored me. I kept on asking the officers before they took me out the detention centre why my name was at the bottom of the list and only my name was written in pen and the other detainees which were on the list had their names printed and all those detainees were also notified and showed travelling documents before that date but I wasn’t? All of that was very suspicious to me and I did not know what was happening. This was unfair as I was not shown travelling documents and I had a bail hearing in the morning. No one listened to me.

On the plane I urged the escorts to help me, they listened and realised something was very wrong and that there must be a mistake because I had a copy of my birth certificate on me and also, I told them I even voted on the 8th of June the same day I was detained, they checked my birth certificate and saw it was genuine. They asked the Home Office personnel on the plane why and he said the reason is because I was born in England, 1984, and the Margaret Thatcher law affected me. The escorts found it absurd and said to the Home Office personnel if I haven’t committed a crime I should rather be helped in getting my British passport instead of being deported.

The Escorts said the only way they could help me was if the Ghanaian immigration on the ground refused me entry because I was not born in Ghana. But unfortunately the Ghanaian immigration did not want to help me at all because they had been given by the Home Office a travelling certificate with a copy of the Ghanaian passport with place of birth as Accra. This was false information and the Home Office knew this but intentionally used it to their advantage in getting rid of me because they know my place of birth is London not Accra. This is proven by my genuine birth certificate. Had they shown this to the Ghanaian authorities, they would have refused me entry. The Home Office seemed to be aware of this and relied on a passport that they knew had incorrect information. And because the physical passport was no where to be found they made a travelling certificate with the incorrect information they had.

LIFE IN GHANA

My life has been turned upside down and I am in misery. I do not know where the ‘Uncle’ that helped me years ago is, I don’t know if he’s alive or not because we lost contact 15 years ago. Even my Aunt does not know his whereabouts.

Sir/Madam I am pleading with you to help me, I don’t know anyone in Ghana, I have been squatting at a friend’s and I am finding it very difficult to live out here. I have been sleeping on the couch, it’s a small house with many people living here and its damaging my health. My immune system is not used to the poor conditions in Ghana. I fell very ill when I got here because I wasn’t given any malaria tablets.

I have been robbed at knife point and had my phone taken. I sometimes don’t have food to eat. I sometimes have to fetch water to have a bath or drink because there’s no constant running water. I am being taken advantage of because I speak in a British accent. I am always overpriced when trying to buy something. The people here see me as a foreigner.

I am very depressed, anxious, suicidal and have tried to kill myself before in the UK because of what’s been going on in my life. I miss my friends, family and loved ones who are all in the UK. I was once a happy, working, tax paying, sound individual with hopes and dreams, now I have nothing left, only with injuries and bad memories.

I hardly sleep at night, I feel so vulnerable and have been taken advantage of. I feel I am in a bad dream, a nightmare hoping and praying to wake up out of it. Also, this has put me in a position of not having a fair fight against the Home Office because of the difficulties in contacting my Solicitor. It costs a lot here to be on the phone and to use the internet. I feel my human rights have been breached. I feel like a badly treated alien in this country.

At all times I was endeavouring to live a legitimate life in the UK and build a lifelong career believing that I am a British Citizen and I had to just apply for my passport which I did not do as I was just so happy to be back in the UK closer to the memories of my parents.

Please Sir/Madam have mercy and help me please. Thank you and God bless you.”

If they take me back to Ghana I will kill myself.

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I came to this country in 1999, to be with my brother and my sister. I have a wife here. I have been in this country for almost 18 years.In 2012 I applied as an over-stayer. The Home Office didn’t respond. Nothing. I waited. I checked with my solicitor and they still have no response from the Home Office. I reported my situation to my MP in Peckham, London, they wrote the Home Office for me. They said they had spoken to the Home Office, but still I heard nothing back from them. I waited another 2 months and went again to my MP. Again they wrote to them. Still I heard nothing, In 2015, 3 years later, the Home Office wrote to me saying I had been refused. Why? I have been here long time, I have family here.

After I was refused the home Office told me to report at the immigration centre every 2 weeks. I did this. One day I didn’t go to report, because my sister had passed away in Birmingham. I wrote to them to tell them I would miss one week. The Home Office was not OK with this. They called me and told me to go to the immigration centre in Croydon. I went to Croydon and they interviewed me for a long time. After the interview they gave me a ticket to go back to Ghana for THAT night, at 10pm. I went with them to the airport, though I had no money and non of my things with me. The officer offered my £20 to return to Ghana with- are they insulting me?! I cannot return to a place I haven’t been for 15 years with £20. My ticket for the flight was cancelled. But I was not released, instead they took my to the detention centre.

The way they are treating us is in the detention centre is very, very bad. The toilets haven’t been cleaned for over a week- they are disgusting. The food is very bad. They know the food is not good. Last night they just gave me bread and rice, no sauce, nothing. When you go to the healthcare here- you have to queue for over 1 hour, just for painkillers.

On Wednesday they give me another ticket to Ghana. Now they have given me a ticket for the charter flight next week.

What do the they expect me to do? They are trying to deport me when I don’t have one penny in my pocket. How can I leave me wife in this country? How can I leave my brother and his children in this country? My family and my life is here in the UK. If they take me back to Ghana I will kill myself.

I have been in this country for almost 18 years. I have applied for asylum because I am not safe to go back there. The Home Office know this, I have given them all of my evidence. I have no criminal record, no contact with the police. Just the Home Office making problems. The Home Office don’t respect me. They don’t listen to me. They don’t listen to my wife. It is not OK to treat people like this.

The Home Office don’t follow the laws of this country. We all follow the law, but they don’t. It is not fair.

The Home Office say I cannot stay here with my parents anymore.

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Both of my parents are in the UK, they are British. I have been here, with them, for over 5 years. But the Home Office wants to send me back to Nigeria. The Home Office says I am over age, I am now 21 years old. The Home Office say I cannot stay here with my parents anymore. My brothers are here. I am in fear to go back to Nigeria, there is fighting over land. They killed my brother. They killed my grandfather. I came to England for protection, I seek asylum here. I believe the UK could help me

I give the Home Office all of my evidence. The Home Office know about everything. But, they want to deport me back to place where I don’t have anybody. Another charter flight is coming- they want to put me on it. I am scared. I won’t be able to survive. I don’t have any family there. I have no body there. Is this fair?

Many people are deported to Nigeria, then they have committed suicide. They have died after being deported. They have to become criminal because they have nothing there. It is ruining peoples lives. They have nothing there, they have no-where to live.

This is injustice. The UK government must stop this.

I have been detained for over 8 months. In detention you see disabled people. I have notes from the doctor because I am pissing blood, but here is no medical attention in the detention centre. People are dying here. I don’t understand I did not think UK is like this.

Nobody hear our cry. We are crying. Please we need to be rescued. Please can anybody helps us?

On Christmas Eve they tried to send me back to Baghdad. When they tried to send me back, they put me on the plane, they twisted my arms, put handcuffs into my wrists, nearly breaking it. They said this is our job.

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I have been in the uk since 2002. I came from Iraq, I was injured and I was beaten nearly to death.  In 2001 I went to Germany, but I was refused asylum. I came to the UK because I was worried Germany would send me back to Iraq. In 2006 I met my now ex-girlfriend. We were together until 2013. She had said to apply for a visa with her, so I applied in 2009. I got a visa in 2013. But sadly, we are no longer together. Immigration said to me, because I applied for visa through her but we break up I have to back to Iraq. I am not coming here for visa, I am not coming for this reasons, I came here for my life. I apply for asylum but because I am not wth her they give me refuse. I applied again, I got refused agin.

In 2015, ISIS start killing people for no reason. I had a friend who said ‘why not come to church?’ I changed my religion, I became christian. People are not happy with me because of this, they speak bad about me. After that, the Church baptise me, we did that, then they put my picture on facebook. Then everyone knows I am Christian, everyone knows my situation. Most people don’t want to talk with me anymore, they say to me I shame myself by changing my religion.

2016, immigration come to my house and arrest me, because I have family life visa, which has run out. But its not about that I came here to apply for asylum. They said “we don’t believe you”, they said they don’t believe I change my religion. I said “how do you know what is in my heart?”. They said I don’t have enough evidence. what evidence? My religion is in my heart, how do they know?

Last year, on Christmas Eve they tried to send me back to Baghdad. When they tried to send me back, they put me on the plane with, they twisted my arms, put handcuffs into my wrists, nearly breaking it. They said this is our job. I am human why you do this- they said we have an order.

In Baghdad there is sectarian violence, between tribes and religions. They say it is safe for Christians but its not safe, there used to be 1 1/2 million Christian, now there is less than 500,000- where have they gone? They have been displaced, they have been be-headed. Immigration said there is Christian community in Baghdad but I was born into muslim, not into christian religion- this is different. This is different. In Sharia law you cannot change religion. Now immigration say Baghdad is safe.

I was detained early November. Now I am detained about 70 days. First time I apply for bail, they give me a ticket, therefore I can’t get bail. The judge doesn’t listen to my situation. Again I applied for bail and they give me another ticket. This is not on, what they do to people in here. Some people have been here 5,6,9 months. If my country was safe I would never be here. I love my country but they have been destroying it, the UK and America have been destroying it. We suffer like Syria.

I have never been to prison, I have never committed any crime, I have never committed any offences. I understand if I do something wrong, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I just find out my brother has been kidnapped in Iraq, he is journalist working for TV. I don’t know who has kidnapped him. I just want to get out and find out what has happened to him. It is very hard. I never been to prison but I am here now.

Yesterday I wanted to do suicide but they didn’t let me.

The detainees, we saved his life.

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See last week he smashed one of the classrooms, the person who tried to kill himself today. In the ESOL class he smashed the class up last week. 

You know the funny thing is there should always be officers here – there should always be an officer at the desk on the first floor, and on the ground floor where we have breakfast. There should be someone there too. If they were in their posts they would have seen the man, they would have seen him hanging there. 

They don’t even say thank you. The detainees, we saved his life. The officers, they show no remorse. 

The manager of activities just saw the camera footage and she was surprised he didn’t break his neck. Thats when she said thank you – you’ve done a good job. She said he was the same person that smashed up the classroom last week.

None of them care what happened. They haven’t asked us any questions about it. No questions asked.

I hope people find out what is going on in here you know. The tax payers need to know what is happening in these detention centres. It is so bad.

This man he jumped from the second floor trying to hang himself

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Today was crazy. Really crazy you know. This man he jumped from the second floor trying to hang himself. It was inside the building in the landing. There were no officers on the scene. 

This is what happened. I went inside my room to brush my teeth and when I came out he had put the sheet around the metal bed frame and around his neck, and jumped. We pressed the alarm bell three times but nothing happened. They didn’t come for like 20 minutes half an hour. Only one officer ran the others walked like it was normal and they were smiling. They were smiling and they joked about it after. 

The bell didn’t go off. The bell should be there for anyone to press if they need it but it didn’t go off. This guy would be dead if it wasn’t for the detainees. The staff weren’t even there. When the police came they said they didn’t need to talk to us, to ask us questions but we were the only ones around there – the officers weren’t there. 

You see the guy who did that he was walking around this morning and he was acting strange. If the staff saw him they would know something was wrong but they were in their office having cups of tea. They should be walking around every morning seeing how everyone is but they are always in the office having tea. 

We have cameras in here. He had bedding wrapped round his arm from 8 o’clock in the morning. If I saw someone walking with bedding first thing in the morning I would know something was wrong. The cameras are suppose to keep us safe so the officers can respond quickly. He walked passed many cameras. But they didn’t clock anything. I see him every day I knew something was wrong but I’ve never seen anything like this before. I didn’t know he would do that. I ran out straight away and pulled the bed sheet up but then i realised i was making it worse – I was helping him die so I let it go. I didn’t know what to do. Someone else came straight away and knew what to do, he must have seen this before. He lay on the ground and held his hand to hold him up. We tried to undo the knot but it was hard to do so other people were lifting up his feet from the bottom and from the top people were trying to undo the knot. He would be dead if it wasn’t for the other detainees.

He feels like he fails something but no one should feel like that. We should be looked after by the staff and the home office but you don’t get that in here. He didn’t say anything was wrong. I never saw him speak to anyone in this place. We have to keep ourselves occupied to cope with this place, but you have to do your own thing. 

This place is really horrible. They don’t treat you like a human being, they treat you like an animal, like a foreigner. I’ve been in two other detention centres but this is the worst. The hygiene, the food everything. It is just the way the place is. You can not trust the staff. You just can’t. To them its like ‘immigrants, immigrants’. In other removal centres you have a much better relationship with the staff. If you have a problem you can speak with them but here you can’t. You can only talk to your friends but your friends have their own problems you know. The staff they do they get trained to deal with stuff in here, but they don’t do anything. You never see the staff, the sit at their desks all day having cups of teas. You ask for something and it takes a week to get done. You can’t trust people like that. 

They don’t care. If one person dies its a number, they just put a number down. When people get deported they are happy and say ‘one person down, one less person to stress about’. 

The police just stood in the place where the guy tried to commit suicide for 20 minutes. They should check the cameras, they should take the statements. They didn’t take any of our statements. They should take statements from the people that saw what happened to see what happened. But they said they didn’t need to. Then they left.

The fire alarm bell doesn’t work. The question everyone should be asking is why that wasn’t working. Everywhere you go the fire alarm should be working. If there was a fire what would you do. If the officers didn’t hear all the screaming they wouldn’t have come. Only once I have heard it working. Lets say a fire happened, or a riot. They are over the other side having cups of tea and laughing. In prison the officers walk around and check. This place is the worst place I have ever been. They feed you when you are supposed to be fed and that is it. You do your own life. You have to cope. 

They’ve taken him off to hospital. I don’t know where. We won’t hear anything about the man. Depends who is in the same unit but the staff won’t tell us. We need to get answers, we all saw it. ‘We can’t tell you, its confidential’ they say. But we need to know he is OK so we feel OK. The only way we find out is through the other detainees. ‘He is fine, he is doing good, don’t worry…’ thats all we want to know.