Immigration Detention, The Hidden Costs: 7 – Reflection on “A Futile System”
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This guest post is written by members of the Unchained Collective, lecturer and researcher Francesca Esposito and Lou Armitt, coordinator of a social justice internship programme organised by the Centre for Social Justice Research (CSJR) at Westminster University, in collaboration with AVID - Association of Visitors to Immigration Detainees. The internship concluded with the exhibition “Immigration detention: past, present and future”, which was held at Westminster University for a week in April 2024.
The Unchained Collective is a group of individuals, some with firsthand experiences of immigration detention and others without, who advocate the transformative power of art to confront the oppressive systems of border violence, and particularly immigration detention. The collective’s driving vision is to end immigration detention for all people, everywhere, recognising it as a violent perpetuation of colonial domination. Most members of the Unchained Collective are based in Britain, where the collective was established in late 2023. This is the seventh post of a themed series called “Immigration Detention - The Hidden Costs” based on the homonym podcast, of which you can listen to the introduction here.
In this episode, Wale talks with Derek about the importance of community, family, and friends in recovering from the trauma and isolation of immigration detention. He also shares his thoughts on how ineffective & costly immigration detention is as a system and the importance of fighting for an effective, humane community-based alternative.
Reflection whilst listening to Wale’s podcast, “A futile system”
Wale’s recollections of his struggles whilst in detention and after release hit hard at the absolute futility of a system whose sole output seems to be waste. The waste of the detained person’s sense of self and their health, both physically and psychologically. The waste of time spent fighting for a fair hearing whilst being denied access to proofs, all while knowing that the Home Office is set up to disbelieve you anyway. The waste of resources needed to help people recover when their mental health is destroyed by the system. The waste of money spent on bail processes when the same answer is given to nearly everyone - ‘at risk of absconding’ - regardless of circumstance. And finally, the waste of public funds in building detention centres when, as Wale points out, humane community-based alternatives have been proven to work.
Wale, who at the time of recording was completing his degree in international relations at the University of Westminster, describes himself as a ‘naturally bubbly person’ prior to detention, something that his time in Harmondsworth took from him. Whilst detained, his mental struggles were expressed through his inability to eat: he ate popcorn for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and lost a lot of weight. When released, he struggled with depression, staying in the house, and had to start from scratch learning how to socialise and interact with people in the community. Still, rather than taking medication, he opted to engage in sports, particularly football, as a means for recovery.
He describes how his first hearing was denied due to lack of information. The detention buildings are ‘like a prison’ and he only had an hour a day to access the internet to gather the information he needed to fight his case, which he then lost as a result. His lawyer told him that the Home Office wants to disbelieve you even if they know it to be accurate – which made him feel despondent and wanted to give up.
The experiences Wale describes expose the politicised nature of the system, and beg us to urgently question what is being done in our name and what it is that motivates its promotion. The process of making these podcast episodes themselves highlighted the damage people endure through indefinite detention, and at the same time people’s extraordinary qualities such as courage, resilience, talent, and hope.
When there is no safety, no future, no protection from the law in the country you have fled, as well as where you have chosen to seek sanctuary and a future, the impact is devastating on many levels. Therefore, creating a space where people feel safe enough with each other to share their experiences, to voice this in a second language, to trust an editorial process, and to commit to being publicly heard is complex. Things take longer and each step of the process has to be consciously approached to be made visible and inclusive. Making editorial decisions to bring a podcast to a certain length, to cut some of what has been expressed in the context of the person’s experience of arbitrary arrest and imprisonment feels weighty, like another abuse of power. So taking the time to share editorial versions, to think through the implications of sharing certain life details, to make decisions about whether it is safe or not to use real names, all become essential parts of the process. At the same time, the privilege of witnessing the joy and strength gained by working together, the privilege of experiencing the courage taken to express such a personal journey, of watching buried talents emerge and voices recovered is something immense and carries the seeds of a deep resistance and hope for a future where our common humanity is lived out, not just in pockets but in our systems and societies at large.
You can listen to the introductory episode embedded above, on Acast, and on Apple Podcasts.
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