There is so much to say about what’s happening in our country just now and maybe I will write something more, but much of the anti-immigration talk seems to be about numbers and wild conjecture, rumours and fearmongering by the powerful. Today, I just want to offer the human side from my lived experience over the last five years or so, and so I will tell you what I know about ‘illegal’ immigrants.
I live in Folkestone, a few miles from where most of the boats land. My house is 2 minutes walk from one of the barracks (not hotels!) that people awaiting the assessment of their claim are housed in. I believe that there are 450 men there. We are not overrun. When they first arrived, local people and groups held a little festival on the field opposite the barracks to welcome them (with a tiny counter-demonstration by people from who knows where, of course). It was a beautiful, positive gathering, and because the men are allowed to leave the barracks, some of them came over. Volleyball and football were played, tea was sipped, music played, and the men ended up teaching us dances from their cultures with us all dancing together in a big circle on the grass. As they returned to the barracks they said, “thank you for having us.” My heart!
Now, they often play football on that field (which tbh makes me feel safer there than I did before), I see them picking blackberries and, if we pass on the pavement, we mostly just say hello and pass by (like in the olden days when people talked to each other). When our neighbours’ dog was lost they helped us look. Once, I was walking with my crutches and an older man from the barracks who said that he was a doctor stopped to give me advice. He was kind and respectful, and it was good advice. Inside the barracks, the men have set up lessons so that those who are teachers or have other skills can teach the others.
They also help with gardening and other tasks in the local community, harvest fruit and vegetables that go to nearby schools and food charities (much of which would go to waste without their help), and a group holds shared meals so that we can meet each other and taste the food from their cultures. They enrich the fabric of our lives, or would if we let them. It’s just one little step towards, rather than away from. If I am out and about with the lady I work for, who is disabled and who I push in a wheelchair, and we come across anyone from the barracks it’s all we can do to stop them helping us.
Two of the men attended my church for a year. In their own country they would have risked being killed for that. They could not have been lovelier or more helpful and respectful. One Christmas they came to our Advent group and one of them read out the Bible verses about the wise men following the star in Farsi (Persian). It was one of the most beautiful and deeply moving things I have ever heard and I will never forget it. Can you imagine what following the star meant to those men?
As for their treatment here, because they are given some meals in the barracks (which is, of course, run by a private company), they get only £9 per week to live on, they make friends and connections in the local community and get to know how things work, but will suddenly receive a letter saying that they were being moved hundreds of miles away (no doubt to the huge financial benefit of whichever slum landlord and friend of a Government minister has set up a company to house them). They will be given only a few days notice and the letters will be in English with no translation. One of the men who came to our church had a wife and young children who were living in the north of England. He wasn’t allowed to live with them or even visit them. When he received his letter there was no allowance made for him to see his family, nor any guarantee of being closer to them. They had already been granted leave to stay. This was some years ago and he was eventually also granted asylum here. Why did he and his young family have to be treated so cruelly whilst he waited? And yet, none of the men I have spoken to express any anger or ingratitude, only world weary and stoic acceptance. They have no doubt seen and experienced so much worse.
Of course having 450 men, many of whom can’t speak English, suddenly appearing in a small community is challenging and strange, for us and for them, but, remembering that they aren’t allowed to work or even volunteer a great deal, their presence has benefitted, rather than harmed us. At worst, it rarely feels that anyone is there at all. They are quiet and unobtrusive. They are just people doing their best, like all of us. In short, despite their difficult circumstances, they are good neighbours.
I will not stand by and allow my neighbours, members of MY community, to be scapegoated and used for the enrichment and political gain of billionaires and racists, who don’t care about the ordinary people of this country any more than they do about immigrants. Shame on anyone who allows themselves to be used and manipulated to hate, to blame, or to be suspicious of, people from other lands and so give those of bad intent power over us all. THAT is where we should make our stand.
Brislington Community News 