In 2002, the government made it illegal for people claiming asylum to work. In April 2008, the Refugee Council and TUC launched a joint campaign, Let Them Work campaigning for the right to work for asylum seekers, as a fundamental human right. On our own discussions and interviews with refugees and asylum seekers, together with campaigners and activists, work was often identified as the most important policy change that would improve the lives of asylum seekers in the UK.
At our roundtable discussion hosted in London, Ms B, a refugee from Bosnia, Ms B, community outreach worker and Mr A, a refugee from Afghanistan discuss the right to work.
Ms B, a refugee from Bosnia: We Bosnians had a country of four million people and 500 ended up here in Britain. But in my country there was ethnic genocide: so, if you met a Bosnian, you didn't know who you were talking to. I don't want to know my so-called ‘community' any more: that's why I left. Eritreans and Iraqis and Somalis are my community but not where I came from! And what we have in common is that we are here. Some of us began to feel that they belonged when they started their English for Speakers of Other Languages (ESOL) classes. But my integration started to happen the day I began work.
If you look at those who are allowed to stay now: they are not allowed to work and they have cut ESOL. So your basic conditions prevent you from having any contact with other human beings whoever they are. So unless you are in such a good state of mental health and have no trauma and are happy to go out into community centres to celebrate diversity - what is going to happen to you? How do you begin to become part of society if you are not allowed benefits, language classes, permission to work, and all you are allowed to do is to physically breathe the air and that's it?
I am really bothered by the fact that people are not allowed to work. Work is so important and if you are going to spend your best years not being allowed to work it is like being in a prison. It is a prison. People just take that right for granted and I don't think British people can relate to the experience of those who are forbidden to work. You cannot work because the Government tells you, you simply can't work.
Ms B, community outreach worker: My father had to retire from the army at 55 and it took about 5 years for him to get over it. He was disoriented - perhaps you can link something like that to the asylum-seeker experience so that people will understand it. It's a big campaign now by the TUC and the Refugee Council - the right to work - and it's very good that the unions are involved.
Mr A, a refugee from Afghanistan: If every local council or borough created a support group made up of volunteers - native English people and refugees who have been here for longer - that could really help people like me coming into the community.
In my case there were so many problems with no-one at all to ask. When I first tried to apply for a job, I was accepted for a job that demanded my home address. I had been living in England for two years, so I sent the postcode of my address. After three weeks, a reply came, saying - OK that's your address for the last two years - but we need it for the last five years. I thought, ‘Five years - so what shall I say about Afghanistan? This should be interesting'. My home in Afghanistan didn't have a house number. We have a small village and no house numbers. It is ‘the green house', ‘the blue, the white house' - that's all. And we don't have post codes in Afghanistan - yet! So I decided to send off what I could - the name of the village. After two months another reply came: Why didn't you put the number of the house and the postcode? So, then I put house no.1, top bell and postcode 0101199 - and then it was acceptable! It took a long time to get there. Had there been someone to ask...
There was another time when I got a reply after one year for a nice job, not in the medical field, my area of expertise. They said, fill in the form and write 200 words about your own background. These 200 words drove me mad. I can speak English - but I knew that if I tried to write it down, everything would be wrong - the vocabulary, the grammar, the spelling - I knew nobody to help me. That's not quite true - I knew one neighbour - a nice man and a good friend to me. But when I'd asked him, what does ‘hide' mean - he'd said after a while, "Oh God, I know what it means, but I can't explain it to you..." and I felt so sorry for asking such a difficult question. Then he went behind the wall and crouched down and said, "Look, I'm hiding from you".
Not everyone can answer all one's questions - that's my point. Sometimes it's not so easy to explain things. With other neighbours, you might not have the nerve to tell them how hopeless you are - that you cannot write, that you don't know this and that that should be obvious to anybody!
So with them you have a different relationship - Hi Steve, Hi Assad - but if there was a centre you could go to be supported by a local borough. There you could tell people, "Look I can't write this, and I'm applying for the job of a milkman so, my English is good enough for this job..." There are many refugees who would be willing to be volunteers to help other people. I gave up with this application - I must be honest. I thought - I can't do this. I am a mentor for somebody else, but I myself need someone to help me still on various other things - even after this long time.
