Burns Night 2007

I get a phonecall as I am walking in to open the Unity office. There is a blue sky and bright sunshine. A woman in Dungavel has a flight booked for her tomorrow, we need to get it stopped. I open up the office find her file and start learning about her story, Because her father was Christian and her mother Muslim the family had to leave their country for a neighbouring one but the authorities came and found them and shot her parents. She found her way to Britain and now has a 2 year old child born here who has no malaria protection and also is ill. I call the lawyer, I call Medical Justice people, I receive faxes.

There is a young man who is registering for the first time. His father has been here for 20 years is disabled, is a British Citizen and owns a house here. The man came here to care for his father as there is no other family. He still has to sign in at the Home Office every week.

A woman comes in with news. Her son who was being held in a local Glasgow police station has been released. He tried to go to Canada on false documents but was refused and returned. They wanted to charge him with a criminal offense but he said that it was an immigration case and he is not a criminal and he was only going there because he had been refused here and was just trying to find a place of safety.

A man comes in to register and mentions that he is a musician. He has a band called the Electric Chicken Feathers – you can check it out on his my space page.

I read a transcript of a Home Office interview with a friend. They asked him question after question. Why did you leave Sudan? My family were killed by Janjaweed, I would have been too. Why did you choose to come to Britain? I didn’t choose to come to Britain, I gave all my money to a man who said he could take me away to a safe place where I would find my wife and children. I spent a long time in a boat, I’m not a traveller kind of man. I found myself here. What happenned? I’m tired now, why do you ask me all these questions? Are you telling the truth? I don’t know how to lie, my soul is hurting. What is the name of the districts of Khartoum? When is the rainy season? That’s my job to know that, I’m a farmer. 3 hours worth. The painful bits were pushed, he didn’t want to talk about it.

A man talks about a friend also here from Sudan her husband a journalist disappeared.

A couple and their son bring in some delicious chapatis I devour.

The woman in Dungavel isn’t going tomorrow, there is a doctor’s appointment next week, here, that she can attend. After that is still very uncertain but relief for today.

Every few minutes somebody else comes in. Some just sign their names, nod and leave. Some hand over keys or bags to be looked after. Some stop to chat, some have questions. There is a board in the office with a list of names of the people who are being detained and information about them. People stand and look at the board, reading, asking if there is any more news.