Odi's Story - Arriving in England

This is the second instalment of Odi's courageous story of his political imprisonment in Iran, his difficult voyage to London, and his struggle towards asylum and a new life for himself and his family in the UK.  This very personal account is representative of the horrors and challenges faced by so many asylum seekers around the world. 

On the 12th of January, 2009, the driver said, “This is England. You are safe now.”  I saw green land around me.  I had 200 Euros in my pocket and paid a taxi to bring me to London from a city two hours away.  I said, “I’m a refugee. I want to go to any organisation that helps refugees.”  He took me to the main UKBA (UK Border Agency) office in Croydon.  It was 5 p.m. and a young male immigration officer said, “We’re closed now. Come back tomorrow.”  I said, “Where shall I go? I don’t know anyone,” and he said, “It’s none of my business.”  I saw lots of cameras, and I was scared of cameras.

I was back on the street.  I started shouting and crying in front of people, but nobody asked me what happened.  I found a subway and sat under there and spent the night without food, water or money.  When I woke up, there were two pounds in coins all around me.  People thought I was homeless and it’s true, I didn’t have a home.   I saw the pound for the first time.  It’s a very heavy coin. 

In the morning, Croyden was busy.  At 9 o’clock there was a long queue outside the UKBA office.  After an hour, I was told, “Go in and sit.”  Two hours later, a young female officer called me in with an Iranian interpreter and asked me about my case.  There was glass dividing me from them.  When I said it had taken me between 20 and 28 days to get to England, she said, “He’s lying.”  She judged me very easily and said it should have taken just 10 days.  If during the screening interview the Home Office doesn’t believe your “way” case, it can affect your main case as well.

Why Can't I Be

Many of us will identify with the latest poem by Mahmood, our most prolific contributor.  He writes, "This poem is about people like me, who are unusually anxious and worried ."

I am tired of all the fears,
That haunted me all the years.
The meadow outside is quiet and peaceful,
The wind is fresh and soft
But my fears are stagnant and fierce.

Why can’t I be carefree,
Leaving all frustrations behind?
Why can’t I be like the trees,
Or the birds in the fields?
Alas! The fears refuse to leave!

4th September 2012
Smethwick, Birmingham

Memoirs of a Posy

We are honoured to publish this poem by new contributor Ujwala.  Below, she shares a little bit about her background and inspiration in writing the poem. 

I first arrived in London on November 3rd 2010.  I am a qualified dentist attempting to register here and this is how I got to know about the MRCF.  The organisation has helped me immensely during the exam process and I hope to give back in any way possible.  I love to write, it is my hobby, passion, stress buster, and the written word is probably the best way I communicate.  This is a poem I wrote when I first came here.  I am lucky and didn't endure even a fraction of the hardships that some people have in a new country.  But it was an extremely tough time for me anyway.  Writing this poem helped me cope.  I don't know much about rhyme and meter and I guess you will see that in my poem.  It is about the life of a flower starting from when it was a bud.  I hope you enjoy reading it and I hope it leaves you with a smile.

My first memories are of a murky green haze,
A tiny dwelling I reviewed in a quizzical daze.
Until a nagging buzzing as annoying as can be,
Made me stretch out in an attempt to break free.

Many visitor had I from down below and up overhead,
Wearing coats of many hues, some yellow and black, some green, some red.
Jolly tradesmen bearing their precious cargo with ease,
And colourful gypsies dropped in to dine, entertain and please.