Immigration Story

Further Info

Watershed staff worked with immigrants and refugees from Zimbabwe. At the time of the workshop, a controversial recount of election results had just been carried out and the Movement for Democratic Change were trying to gain control of the country from Robert Mugabe, who had been in power for many years. The workshop took place over three days at the Pierian Centre and was led by Aikaterini Gegisian, Paddy Uglow and Tom.

Transcript

I was working for the Department of Social Services in Zimbabwe. I used to work for the department which deals with the payment of the war veterans’ pensions.

I used to talk to my brother in the UK about the situation in my workplace. My sister in law decided to get me a place in the University of the West of England to train as a nurse.

The situation in Zimbabwe was going worse and worse. My brother and my sister in law decided I can come a little bit earlier, so I came to UK in 2001 in December. I came with my sister in law’s sister.

When I got in the Gatwick immigration processes, they started asking me question. So I sort of spent the whole day being asked questions by the immigration officer, until around six – that’s when I was told I was going to be deported back home.

I went back to work; no one from my workplace knew I had tried to come to England, except my immediate family. By then I was pregnant.

In 2002 in March we had some elections. It was really difficult to work by the same offices as the Registrars office because those were dealing with the votes were downstairs and our offices were upstairs. The situation was very tense in the office, with the war veterans keeping on coming in and out; you’d be asked questions, “What do you think? What do you think about this new MDC?” You know, even if you really want a change you just have to say, “No, I think we still need our president.” It was so difficult.

So I kept on talking to my brother about that. They decided again that I should try, because I was supposed to start my course in September, so my brother thought they should try and buy me a ticket.

By then I’d given birth and I had a girl. We talked about it and the bought me another ticket.

So I arrived by Gatwick: same process. I was asked if I had been to UK and I said “Yes.” Then I told them I was deported. I went back into that small room. It’s a painful room. It’s people from different nationalities and you are all put in one room. They keep on calling one by one to ask them questions. It’s really scary, that room. For those who’ve been in that room by the Gatwick, it’s one of the places you wouldn’t want to go. You never know what’s going to happen. I was just praying to my dear God that I just hope and pray that this time they will let me in.

Around three o’clock, one immigration officer – I always say he was just God-sent because he could feel sorry for me. He said, “I will give you two weeks to go and set up your papers, and then within two weeks you should have all your documents.”

By that time in September, that’s when new rules were introduced whereby foreign students had to pay their own fees. I couldn’t afford that.

Me knowing to myself I was running from the situation in Zimbabwe. I went to my sister in law’s sister’s husband. He told me about claiming asylum: if you tell your story to the British government, they will help you and give you a stay, and I thought, “Oh, that would be good.”

We went and we looked for a lawyer, and I claimed my asylum in October. I was called for an interview – that was in November – I was sitting by a desk and facing two ladies, one of them was asking me questions, because it’s as if you’re in prison. You know because some of the question which are very difficult to answer; they expect you to know the structure of the MDC from the word go. They just expect you to know everything… and it was just… I don’t even want to keep on remembering.

If I had known, I should have just stayed in this country and just keep quiet. To become an asylum seeker in this country I’ve noticed it’s like you are a prisoner. You know it’s like you’re someone who is running away from what like Mugabe’s been doing to people in my country, you’re trying to forget about that situation. You come to this country, they sort of bombard you.

I went through that first phase of the interview and I was told to provide letters from my MP, my MDC card and… so many letters were requested.

I told them, “It’s very difficult for me to get those evidence to show that I’ve been into hospital.” I said, “Those evidence, they’re in the government files; How am I able to get them?” and I was told if I need to stay I should get those evidence.

I phoned my family back home to try and get me those things. When you are in Zimbabwe you don’t want to be seen to be active because you will die: they will kill you. You try to mind your own business, just to concentrate on your own family. So I couldn’t get those letters within fourteen days they wanted them. So my lawyer, we appealed, and we went to court.

My lawyer first of all talked, then come this immigration lawyer, bombarding me with questions. I’ve never been in court, and I’m just being in court in this country because I’ve claimed an asylum.

It’s really painful: I left my two kids back home. I left my child five months and now she’s six years. I haven’t seen her. Just talking with her over the phone – she doesn’t know me. My eldest daughter, now I don’t think she still remembers me.

After my appeal case I was told, “Because you came through the immigration saying you wanted to become a student and you didn’t, so you have to go back home and come back again.”

In 2003 my husband came here, because he had applied previously for nursing training. He trained as a nurse. When he finished he couldn’t get a work permit in England, so he managed to get work permit in Northern Ireland and by now he’s working in Northern Ireland and I’m in Bristol. I don’t have the travellers documents to move up and down. My passport is still with the Home Office.

It’s so difficult to become and asylum seeker in this country. When you read in the newspapers and you hear people saying, “Benefit scroungers” it’s so painful [???]. I don’t have any benefit. My family are the ones helping me. It’s so painful when you see it in the paper: “People are getting benefits, they come here to get our benefits, you are lying – you just want benefits.”

My God, I used to work back home in Zimbabwe. It’s only the situation in my country: you have to be the government supporter for you to want to go to Zimbabwe.

When my husband got his papers we applied for us to get married: I was told for me to go on my husband’s paper we have to have a marriage certificate, so we applied to the Home Office to get married, we got married.

After getting married, I phoned the Home Office to enquire about applying to go on my husband’s visa, and I was told I should go back to Zimbabwe because I am an asylum seeker: if I want to change to become my husband’s dependent I have to go back to Zimbabwe.

And I just asked the immigration officer, “Would you go to Zimbabwe?” and she told me, “No.”

Why should they think I should go to Zimbabwe when they can’t? Am I not a human being? Those people back in Zimbabwe, they actually fear; they are afraid for their lives.

I didn’t choose to be born in Zimbabwe.

Credits

Desk picture created by markscott (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Phone picture created by michaelhilton (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Deporation picture created by john_scone (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Rainbow picture created by herr_hartmann (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Mugabe picture created by gregorrohrig (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Placards picture created by john_scone (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Protester picture created by sokwanele (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Pro zanu-pf poster picture created by poldavo (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Zimbabwe airport picture created by arib (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Zimbabwe money picture created by tipsfortravellers (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Sinister shadows picture created by ush (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Gatwick picture created by j-and-p (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Planes picture created by chrisjones (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Waiting room picture created by magandafille (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Gatwick Snow picture created by zoonie (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

How many more? picture created by malias (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Paperwork sheet picture created by ryaninc (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Lots of paperwork picture created by brookenovak (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

African office picture created by robinelaine (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Zimbabwe street picture created by tipsfortravellers (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Heroes acre statues picture created by tipsfortravellers (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Harare city picture created by ctsnow (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Zimbabwian embassy demo picture created by aon (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Application form picture created by iriaflavia (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Barred window picture created by ficken (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Table and chair picture created by wrestlingentropy (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Paperwork on the floor picture created by psd (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Filing cabinets picture created by misterdna (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Court picture created by markhillary (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Clock face picture created by 24028533@N03 (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Ambulance picture created by didbygraham (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

African wedding picture created by runako (flickr.com), used under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 licence.

Zimbabwe map picture created by english.freemap.jp, used under Public Domain licence.

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