Certain media sources would have you believe that the UK is over-run by people seeking asylum, with headlines such as ‘10,000 already this year!’ There are stories claiming that people seeking asylum in the UK are coming to ‘take our jobs’, while others imply that people come purely because of the apparently irresistible benefits system and desire to ‘scrounge’ (note the absence of crucial context within the stories, ie that these are people fleeing their country due to danger and/or risk to life). I have even seen a story raging about an asylum-seeking family being housed in a four-bedroom house, and watched footage on social media of people arriving on UK shores being met with shouts of ‘go back to where you came from’. It is difficult to articulate how deeply saddened and ashamed this made me feel.
These stories are not only incredibly damaging to entire communities who need support, and who already face several barriers and stigmatisation when trying to access healthcare services, but they are also untrue. What is perhaps more frightening is that some people believe them.
However, in factual terms, in 2020, the UK received 37 550 applications for asylum (Red Cross, 2022), around three times fewer than the numbers received by each of Germany, France and Spain. The reality is that 72% of the world's refugees live in countries that neighbour their own; proportionally, the UK is home to about 1% of the 27.1 million refugees forcibly displaced around the world (Refugee Council, 2022). What about the financial aspect? People seeking asylum receive £40.85 per person per week, or £5.80 a day (Gov.UK, 2022).
So why would people choose to leave everything they know behind and make the treacherous journey to the UK. Reasons include war, persecution due to beliefs, and risk of abuse or death. In the most basic terms, people take the journey to find safety. Seeking asylum is a human right.
When we start to believe the hateful propaganda, dangerous and inhumane things can happen. The current government ‘plan’ is to fly asylum seekers to Rwanda, whose government will receive £120 million in exchange for housing selected individuals (BBC Newsround, 2022). To be clear, this is not voluntary: these individuals, currently single men, will be forcibly removed. Their best chance of remaining in the UK is to seek legal aid, but the majority would not have the resources to do so. Charities such as Care for Calais help people with legal aid and, at the time of writing, the charity Freedom from Torture successfully halted the first scheduled Rwanda flight.
The Rwanda plan is problematic: one of the most poignant signifiers of dehumanisation within this deal is the complete disregard for people's wellbeing. Freedom from Torture has rightfully highlighted that victims of torture – who have been subjected to heinous acts and unimaginable trauma – may be placed on these planes. There is also no thought for the welfare of LGBTQ+ asylum seekers – in Rwanda, same-sex marriage is banned and there is no legislation to protect these individuals from discrimination (Middleton, 2022). These are just two examples of inhumanity.
I work as nurse in asylum and refugee health as part of a health inclusion team. I work in a sector that operates in initial accommodation hotels, providing holistic care to people seeking asylum through nurse-led clinics and supporting their social needs through health navigators. It is not a role of utter negativity, there are beautiful moments witnessed between individuals and families, new babies are born, and there is certainly some joy to be found.
However, poor mental health within this client group is rife. In my role, I hear harrowing stories on a weekly, if not daily basis. Although I would never tell their stories on their behalf – they belong to the people who have lived them -- I question whether the general population could truly continue to believe the false toxic narrative about people seeking asylum if they were given the chance to hear these stories for themselves.