Going to the Opening Ceremony of the London 2012 Olympic Games, By Qandagha Faryad

During summer holidays I received a phone call from my school: they wanted to give me a ticket for the Opening Ceremony of the Olympic Games because they said I am a good student.  At the beginning I was scared because my friend showed me a movie on Youtube about bomb threats during the Olympics.  My cousin told me that I was very lucky to have the chance to go and if I was not going, I should give the ticket to him.  He advised me to go.  Moreover, the college told me I could not give the ticket to another person, so I decided to go.

On Friday, 27 July 2012, I went to the Olympic Stadium.  When I was there and watched all around, I was really impressed to see all those flowers, lights and many people performing.  The Olympic village was also very beautiful.  I saw a lot of police and a lot of people.  There was no space to sit and I stood for more than 4 hours near the mountain with all the flags of the countries.  Somebody passed me an Olympic flag and I waved it.  I also saw a lot of fireworks and, inside the stadium, a lot of artists performing with costumes.  Among them there were also some children acting and I wondered about how they could manage to do that with so many people watching and without being confused!

Despite being there and enjoying the show, after a while I did not know what to do because I was alone.  After the ceremony finished I decided to go home.  I tried to go home by bus but it was full of people so I walked home.  I enjoyed going there and I think I was really lucky to see the ceremony because many of my friends did not have the chance to go.

Qandagha is originally from Afghanistan and has lived in London for four years, since he was 14.  He lives in Stratford and attends Newham College - Stratford.

Odi's Story - Fresh Start in Dublin?

This is the third 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. 

My friend gave me £100 to get to Dublin, and that same evening I went to the National Express coach company and bought a ticket to Belfast, in Northern Ireland, for £70.  The bus was departing the next evening at 8:30.  To get to Belfast, you need to pass over the sea.  I was really scared about this but when I thought about my family in Iran and about making their life safe, I thought I could do it.  The next night, I went to Belfast by bus and ship.  When I got off the ship, another bus was in port, waiting for passengers, and took us to a very big terminal in Belfast.  In the terminal I asked how to get to Dublin and a guy pointed me to the ticket office, where I purchased a ticket for £25.

There is no border between Northern Ireland and Ireland.  I didn’t know that.  When the bus stopped in Dublin, I thought we were stopping for lunch or the toilet.  I asked the driver, “How much longer for Dublin?”  He laughed and said, “You’re kidding me. We’re in Dublin now.”  I asked where border control was and he said there wasn’t a border.  I went into the centre and asked two more times where I was, and people said, “This is Dublin.”  After an hour I stopped a policewoman and said, “I’m a refugee.”  She opened the door of her car and told me to sit.  Her colleague was a man, and they were very lovely and kind.  

They took me to the Dublin immigration centre.  After a half hour, I was called to a room.  A guy sat there behind glass and started to ask questions.  I explained my case to him and said, “You can call England and ask them.”  He was writing, and when I said “England,” he stopped writing and said, “Oh. You were in England.”  I said, “Yes” and that I was telling him the truth and didn’t want to lie.  He said, “I’m sorry, but according to Dublin II immigration law, you have to be deported to the first country you claimed asylum.”  When he said that, I just leaned back, put my hands on my head and started to cry.  He said, “Don’t cry. Maybe it will be good for you when you are deported to England. I don’t know, but it’s the law and I can’t do anything.”

Issues Against Injustice – Behind the Curtain

Look. This is when I was suffering.
I was told I'd get another appointment for a
proper check-up. Up to now I haven't got it.

Outside Praxis: This is the place where I went to see the 
people who could help me with what the GP's not doing.

Thanks so much to this thoughtful blogger, who writes anonymously, for sharing these poignant reflections with us. 

There is a curtain, and each and every person can look behind and see there is a question and an answer to be given. 

The reason why I want to write this blog is because I can see that here in this country there is no justice.  They say there is a human right here, but it has gone backwards.  They just say "human rights," but the rights do not apply to the system.  They say people are taking advantage of human rights, but those who have rights are not the people who are suffering.  Those who are suffering are not noticed. 

The government dispute what you tell them, and they don’t trust you.  Even though you tell the truth, they dispute the truth you are telling, and psychologically they harm you.  You end up with a problem.  And the main problem is that people end up doing crimes which are contributed to by the government itself because they keep people for a long time without deciding their case in a just way.  We would like to see the justice system working and taking people as human beings.  Those who suffer do not like to depend on the government.  They can help themselves, provided they are given the green light.

That is according to my own experience.  I can see most of the people end up in hospital after being tortured mentally for a long time by this government.  I don’t mean Conservative or Labour - it is all one system.  All the parties are doing the same thing to the people who are suffering.  In election time, these people talk about immigration - only then.  People are still suffering. 

A human being is a human being.  You can’t keep one like a pet.  Yes, we can appreciate what the government is doing.  They help us with a small amount of money.  But we don’t want that situation.  If you are hammered (i.e., oppressed) for 1, 2, 3, 10 years, you are damaged.  You are not born to be damaged.  You are born to survive.  They should think twice before they pass their laws which go against people.

I found MRCF.  They are good because they listen.  If you get someone who listens to your situation, then maybe you can find a way out.  I can see that MRCF have humanity because they sympathise with the people who come to see them.  And once they hear the stories, they also struggle to help.  We really appreciate what these people are doing.  If only they were the people who pass the laws.

Daddies - Our Unsung Heroes

We are very grateful for this moving tribute from Ujwala to her father... and all fathers. 

I have been thinking a lot about daddies recently. I hung out with a friend whose daddy is her superhero, someone no man in the Universe can ever hope to live up to; had a long conversation with a new da, who after 9 months is still struggling to come to grips with 'what just happened'; and gained new perspective into my relationship with my father.

Ujwala's parents giving her away at her wedding

Most dads I know, on the other hand, are enigmas. They have a real tough job. They are expected to provide for us, be the disciplinarians occasionally, 'part with the dough', and yet be entirely clued in. Yes, they toil hard at evenings out and plough through birthday parties (my dad should be crowned king of the Jokes AND the Dance Moves). But there is not much opportunity to have a deep conversation about things other than studies/jobs, money, The News, National Geographic and Cricket, or the like. Braiding hair (mine was 'to my knee' long) and cleaning scrapes, on the other hand, is the perfect setting for some soul searching. Mums have it good!