Unfree. Yet Powerful. Exploited. Not Forgotten.

The demonstrations and resistance inside Yarl's Wood have been the most important fight in Britain for women's rights and for immigrants’ rights, because they have been inspiring - because the people in this struggle are fighting to win the most basic of demands as human beings.

March 12^th signified the National Demonstration at Yarl’s Wood, for all the men and women held like cattle inside detention-deportation centres.   For all looking to break out from under the shadow of detention.  It was for all those at the borders of Europe challenging the cynical leaders a demanding in real life the promise of democracy and freedom, of which sanctuary is fundamental.  Nearly 2000 turned up in support of this demonstration, making it the largest event against indefinite detention.

By definition an asylum seeker is not an illegal entrant. Under UK and international law, entering a country to seek asylum is a human right.  There is a legal procedure that is supposed to determine whether an asylum seeker is entitled to asylum or another status that will allow him or her to remain temporarily or permanently in the receiving country. However, many asylum seekers with strong claims are denied asylum for a variety of reasons.  They may then appeal.  It is inhumane and ineffective to detain asylum seekers, who have been convicted of no crime, in a detention or removal centre.  As the UK Inspector of Prisons recently pointed out, many detained asylum seekers are eventually released, raising the question of why they were detained in the first place.  The UK detention system is cruel, and detention has been shown to be unnecessary.  It would actually be cheaper to provide social services to asylum seekers in the community and allow them to work and pay taxes. 

After years of tentative dissent, women and girls and men alike have begun to vocally speak out to demand a better future, not just in law but in practice.  They have begun to challenge the law and the judicial prejudices built on racist and sexist structures.  They have begun to overthrow the injustice and systemic abuse that has fallen on these women.  They have begun to reject the narratives that these women are criminals.  They have begun to demand these women are given access to the rights they are entitled. 

Today’s demonstration at Yarl’s Wood was about more than raising awareness and demanding decisive action from above (i.e. the closing of detention centres and an end to the systematic violations of rights and internal abuses).  It was about empowerment for the women inside, for them to know that people are listening and are taking defensive action.  It was about encouraging a discussion about the goals of the system and the autonomy attributed to the women.  And unsurprisingly, it is bloody important to talk about power, and class, and race, and gender.

There comes a time when you have to decide whether to challenge yourself to fit the story, or change the story itself. The decision gets a little easier if you understand that refusing to shape your life and the life others to the contours of an unjust world is the best way to start creating a new one. There comes a time when you have decide what sort of world you want to live in. I don't want to live in a world where women and men are locked away, subject to constant abuse and exploitation, through no fault of their own. For no criminal offence. For no action other than entering the UK after leaving their country, ravaged by civil war, international conflict, or a host of other reasons. Detention centres are symptomatic of Britain's paranoia about migrants. Detention is never the way to deal with traumatised, exhausted and innocent asylum seekers. Who are we to claim that our country is free and democratic, when we're locking human beings up in cages, behind bars, for no reason? We are betraying our own liberal values in the process of trying to "safeguard" them. What kind of country are we becoming? Is it worth it?

Change requires us to speak what is unspoken, to refuse to accept the system as it is.  It requires us to ask challenging questions about the nature of society, the legal system, our international relations, and the treatment of those entering the country after fleeing various social injustices.

I want mutiny.  I want everyone who claims to be against the unjust and exploitative treatment of people, everyone who claims to welcome refugees, to stop waiting for the system to sort itself out.  Because guess what?  It won’t.  It must be mutiny.  A public and open rebellion against the authorities which continue to defend such abhorrent behaviours.  It is necessary.  The important thing is that we stand united and fight.  This is where we start.

Governments can often be influenced by public condemnation, even if they stand firm at first, just to save-face.  But sometimes shame and humiliation don’t work.  Sometimes institutions wear the blood on their hands into battle.  Our government and judicial system currently bears the blood of hundreds of men and women.  It is a moral crisis.  Bureaucracy is a modesty mask for everyday monstrosity.  There is no reason.  No compassion.  No human dignity.  No respect.  No freedom.  No bodily autonomy.  No rights.

I cannot fathom how the people leading our country, the people employed in “security” services (Serco, I’m looking at you), believe it is defensible to lock away human beings and treat them as inferiors.  You do not put people in boxes for seeking refuge and asylum.  It is morally reprehensible.  I do not know how the people involved sleep at night, knowing they are inflicting such torment and unnecessary harm to innocent people.

The hands, the t-shirts, and the toilet roll, flying wide from the small windows.  Images that will stay with me.  The women were protesting with us.  They were protesting from inside against the conditions they are subjected to.  We heard their cries, and they heard our support.  We all chanted in unison.  We heard the women’s voices:

“We are human beings.”

“We are not animals.”

“We are not criminals.”

Such evocative language, and we heard these women.  We were listening.  Are you?  Are you ready to partake in this fight for freedom and justice?  Are you ready to show that you care (“caring” is a verb after all, actively show these women you care.  Get up and join them in their struggle for basic human rights)?