Palpable desperation: Inside the invisible world of immigration detention

The reports of sexual abuse at the Yarl's Wood detention centre were sadly not much of a surprise to people who work with immigration detainees.

Recent reports of sexual abuse at Yarl’s Wood shine a small spotlight on the otherwise invisible world of immigration detention. They detail how guards preyed on isolated women, subjecting them to unwanted advances, using their positions of power to coerce them into sexual acts. Shocking yes. But sadly not much of a surprise to people who work with immigration detainees.

As a trustee of a small charity, Bail for Immigration Detainees, I visited Yarl’s Wood late last year. The desperation was palpable. One of the women I met had heavily bandaged wrists. She was on 24-hour suicide watch after one failed attempt to take her own life. She, like others I spoke to, was desperate to get out of what is little more than a prison. With 30,000 people detained per year, these women are far from rare.

Many people in detention - both men and women - are incredibly vulnerable. They are often fleeing violence and persecution. About half have claimed asylum. Some have been the victims of torture and rape.  To have faced and survived such trauma, to have undertaken a difficult journey to get away, to have left behind loved ones and the world that you know, to then reach supposed safety only to be locked up is a cruel irony. And to be detained with no release date and no time-limit must be utterly hopeless.

It is little surprise that detention is incredibly damaging. Self-harm and detention go hand in hand, with studies suggesting there are higher levels of suicide and self-harm amongst detained immigrants than amongst the prison population. The impacts on physical and mental ill health are well-documented - severe distress and depression as a result of detention are common.

In the words of Luisa, one of the women BID has worked with, “In the night time I can’t sleep, and you don’t have anyone to go to; and you don’t have anywhere to go out, and get some fresh air, and maybe have a walk or something, we are just inside, I think that really is depressing. I’ve seen other people suffering, because you think you are suffering, and then you see someone else suffering even more than you."

Yet despite the clear vulnerability of many detainees, low standards of care and poor treatment are not uncommon. Detainees are treated with suspicion, with one healthcare worker commenting to BID that “cutting, self-strangulation, food refusal, hair-pulling, head banging” can be used as a “tool to raise profile”. There are incidents of mentally ill people being segregated as a means of “behaviour control”. And four separate legal cases have found the treatment of severely mentally ill men in detention to be inhumane and degrading in breach of their human rights, as well as unlawful.

Immigration detention is only meant to be used in limited circumstances. According to the Home Office’s own guidance, “Detention must be used sparingly, and for the shortest period necessary.” The guidance states that detention is appropriate where a person’s removal from the country is imminent. But instead people are frequently held even when they cannot be removed because there are outstanding legal proceedings, they are unable to access travel documents, or because it is unsafe to return them to their country of origin.

The most recent figure of 30,000 people detained in the UK over the course of the year is an increase of five per cent on the previous year and the highest figure since records began. It seems increasingly detention is being used only because it is administratively convenient, with little regard to the impact on people’s lives and health.

In reality detention means lives on hold, sometimes for years. One of the worst things is the not knowing. Detainees are held indefinitely with no idea when they will be released. It may be one week, one month, one year. Many are detained for years.

Detention also means families separated, children in care. A recent BID report found that 40 per cent of children whose parents were detained were being fostered or were in local authority care. One can only imagine how scary that must be for those children – with no idea when their mother or father will be released. The report found that these parents were detained on average for 9 months and then the vast majority (80 per cent) were eventually simply released, their detention having served no purpose, save causing their children unimaginable distress at huge expense to the taxpayer.

And on the subject of children, despite Government promises to end the practice of detaining them, last year 242 children were themselves locked up.

All of this is not happening in some far away country renowned for its terrible record on human rights but right here on our doorstep, in the twelve detention centres across the UK and increasingly in the prison estate.

Detention is not the only option for immigration control. There are alternatives, which are not only more humane but also less costly. Release with conditions, regular reporting, community-based case management are all approaches which have been shown to be effective. Of course such a highly politicised issue is not about the evidence of what works, or even the cost. It is about political expediency. It is far easier for the Government to lock people away, out of sight and out of mind.  

These are people serving a sentence for which they have committed no crime. It is a sentence with no end date. It is expensive, unnecessary and frankly inhumane. And it is high time that we took a long hard look at how we treat people who are amongst the most vulnerable in our society.

Katharine Sacks-Jones is a trustee of Bail for Immigration Detainees (BID) an organisation which provides legal advice, information and representation to detainees on getting release from detention. Last year BID supported 3,367 people.

Detention itself is incredibly damaging to already-vulnerable people. Photo: Getty
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With the BBC Food’s collection under threat, here's how to make the most of online recipes

Do a bit of digging, trust your instincts – and always read the comments.

I don’t think John Humphrys is much of a chef. Recently, as his Today co-presenter Mishal Husain was discussing the implications of the BBC’s decision to axe its Food website (since commuted to transportation to the Good Food platform, run by its commercial arm), sharp-eared listeners heard the Humph claim that fewer recipes on the web could only be a good thing. “It would make it easier!” he bellowed in the background. “We wouldn’t have to choose between so many!”

Husain also seemed puzzled as to why anyone would need more than one recipe for spaghetti bolognese – but, as any keen cook knows, you can never have too many different takes on a dish. Just as you wouldn’t want to get all your news from a single source, it would be a sad thing to eat the same bolognese for the rest of your life. Sometimes only a molto autentico version, as laid down by a fierce Italian donna, rich with tradition and chopped liver, will do – and sometimes, though you would never admit it in a national magazine, you crave the comfort of your mum’s spag bol with grated cheddar.

The world wouldn’t starve without BBC Food’s collection but, given that an online search for “spaghetti bolognese recipe” turns up about a million results, it would have been sad to have lost one of the internet’s more trustworthy sources of information. As someone who spends a large part of each week researching and testing recipes, I can assure you that genuinely reliable ones are rarer than decent chips after closing time. But although it is certainly the only place you’ll find the Most Haunted host Yvette Fielding’s kedgeree alongside Heston Blumenthal’s snail porridge, the BBC website is not the only one that is worth your time.

The good thing about newspaper, magazine and other commercial platforms is that most still have just enough budget to ensure that their recipes will have been made at least twice – once by the writer and once for the accompanying photographs – though sadly the days when everyone employed an independent recipe tester are long gone. Such sites also often have sufficient traffic to generate a useful volume of comments. I never make a recipe without scrolling down to see what other people have said about it. Get past the “Can’t wait to make this!” brigade; ignore the annoying people who swap baked beans for lentils and then complain, “This is nothing like dhal”; and there’s usually some sensible advice in there, too.

But what about when you leave the safety of the big boys and venture into the no man’s land of the personal blog? How do you separate the wheat from the chaff and find a recipe that actually works? You can often tell how much work a writer has put in by the level of detail they go into: if they have indicated how many people it serves, or where to find unusual ingredients, suggested possible tweaks and credited their original sources, they have probably made the dish more than once. The photography is another handy clue. You don’t have to be Annie Leibovitz to provide a good idea of what the finished dish ought to look like.

Do a bit of digging as part of your prep. If you like the look of the rest of the site, the author’s tastes will probably chime with your own. And always, always, wherever the recipe is from, read it all the way through, even before you order the shopping. There is nothing more annoying than getting halfway through and then realising that you need a hand blender to finish the dish, just as the first guest arrives.

Above all, trust your instincts. If the cooking time seems far too short, or the salt content ridiculously high, it probably is, so keep an eye on that oven, check that casserole, keep tasting that sauce. As someone who once published a magic mince pie recipe without any sugar, I’m living proof that, occasionally, even the very best of us make mistakes. 

Felicity Cloake is the New Statesman’s food columnist. Her latest book is The A-Z of Eating: a Flavour Map for Adventurous Cooks.

This article first appeared in the 26 May 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Brexit odd squad