Free, Not Free

This series of portraits and accompanying verbatim reflections has been co-created with LGBTQIA+ asylum seekers living in South Yorkshire.

The intention in this work is to consider representation and identity within the LGBTQIA+ asylum seeking community, and to explore how to open up channels for self representation that create opportunities to reclaim the tools and the means, such that people’s own voices can be heard above the chatter of the increasingly hostile mainstream.

Mainstream media portrayals of refugees and asylum seekers are often reductive and lacking in depth, and focus on the legality and method of arrival and a hostile, meritocratic interpretation of human rights, with scant attention paid to the lived experience of people fleeing persecution, both before they arrive and once in the UK.

Successive UK governments have chosen to use the ‘refugee issue’ as a means of distracting the general public from the collapse of the welfare state and the social contract, the increasingly impoverished lives many of us are leading, and the vast inequalities that define UK society in the 21st century.

As the rich get richer and more and more children and families fall into poverty, the government obsesses over ‘taking back control’, the Rwanda policy, small boats and the technicalities of how to force the breaking of legally binding UN conventions through the courts.

This work was made as The Nationality and Borders Act (2022) became law. Clause 31 of the Act raises the ‘standard of proof’ required to demonstrate a characteristic that risks persecution in a country of origin, yet how do you prove your sexuality or gender orientation, especially if you’ve spent a lifetime concealing your true self?

The risks and dangers associated with poor Home Office decision making are only heightened by this clumsy and hostile piece of legislation.

What is missing in all this is the voice of those at the sharp end. There is scant opportunity for asylum seeking people to contribute to these debates or even to utter a word on their experience, and this project seeks to offer a small step towards opening up space for those most affected.

Yet despite the context this is not a project about debating the complexities of UK politics as it pertains to migration, rather it is about reclaiming a degree of agency when it comes to defining how people are seen and their position within a social space.

Many, but not all the photographs were made using a medium format digital camera on a tripod, with a remote shutter and an off camera flash. Sometimes neutral density filters and slow shutter speeds were employed, especially when photographing with people who needed to obscure their identities, but also as a way of exploring issues around partial status, forced migration and the feeling of life on hold as time slips by.

We explored together, shared ideas, listened to each other and tried to create something that wasn’t there before.

Jessica

Being an asylum seeker is not an easy journey to deal with. Being in a hotel I am not free to do what I want, the food is not right for me and I just have to accept what they give me. I am not allowed any visitors even if I am unwell, as I am at the moment. It’s really not easy.

But on the other hand if I take walks I see so many beautiful places, and that’s what I try to do to keep in a good frame of mind.

Being an LGBTQIA+ asylum seeker, the hard part is proving who you are. You need proof because they will deny who you are. Please don’t judge my choices if you don’t understand my reasons.

It was a very hard decision to leave Namibia, but I knew I had to leave to be safe. When I told my family that I’m a lesbian, my uncle started abusing me, he made my life horrible, and he told me it’s better to kill me than to accept who I am.

I can’t go back, my family hates me.

Amir

From childhood’s hour I have not been

As others were—I have not seen

As others saw—I could not bring

My passions from a common spring—

From the same source I have not taken

My sorrow—I could not awaken

My heart to joy at the same tone—

And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—

From “Alone” by Edgar Allan Poe

I think this explains all about

My personality

My passion and inspiration

My past, present and my sexual

orientation

Ebi

I’m Ebi, a Nigerian, I don’t like labels, I’m just me. A woman who likes women. People ask me, are you a stud? A femme? I tell them I’m just me, a woman who likes women. I dress how I want, sometimes more femme, sometimes a very easy relaxed way as well.

I’m happy that I can live my life as who I am, unlike in my country where I can’t express myself. Moving to the UK, coming out of the closet, I’m living my authentic life as a queer woman. That freedom is the greatest thing I have achieved in my whole life. To be able to love as you are. In 2022 I experienced my first Pride, and this gave me so much joy to see that people like me really exist. I was so joyful and very happy. I went to so many Pride events last year I lost count. Pride makes me feel ‘yes, I am for real’, that there are others like me and I truly exist.

At home people made me question if I’m an evil person for being queer. Whilst I was celebrating my queer identity here, I got the news that three LGBTQIA+ people back home were sentenced to death by Sharia law. That day, knowing that I was able to run away but that many gay people are still there, I felt so guilty. I’ve escaped and I sometimes feel so helpless. That day I screamed at God to give every LGBTQIA+ person the space to live their life as I am now.

Coming to the UK, seeking asylum, I felt ‘these people have saved me’, they are my God. The UK government is my guardian angel. I never expected God to bring an angel to me, I thought I’d be dead by now as a queer woman in Nigeria. But it is a difficult process, a hard journey, trying to get your freedom and live your life.

I just want to be who I am and to live my life. I just need a place where I am accepted for being a queer person. At the moment my life is on hold. Pending. I cannot work. In Nigeria I worked to survive, I was independent from a very early age, so I’m used to working. But in April it will be a year of not working. It is hard to have to rely on asylum support, this is not who I am.

The future? To live my life, get married to my wife someday and build a beautiful family together.

Jason

Up and down really, like an elevator with highs and lows. Great things like new friends becoming my family and the volunteering work I do, but also it’s the feeling of being in limbo and fighting to get recognised. In having the freedom but also not having the freedom. But at least I do have more freedom to be me here without the shackles I had back home in Trinidad and Tobago.

I am compassionate, passionate about the work I do. People are fickle, don’t judge a book by its cover. It’s most important that what benefits me also benefits those around me. These are the important things I’d like everyone to recognise about me.

Most important for people to understand is that we are not taking something away from the taxpayer, we are not simply a burden. People are coming here suffering from political violence, religious violence, gender based violence, and much more besides, and we are looking for a new home and a new life. And in this system it’s not given freely.

We are not all living in posh houses, we’re living in rooms, isolated and on our own, mental health is a huge issue. It’s not all glamour like we’re in some big palace living freely off the taxpayer’s money.

Living on £40 per week and not working is not easy for someone trying to start a new life in a foreign country. I’d like the public to know that the asylum system isn’t some sort of fairy tale as it’s recounted in the news.

Having a space to express who you are, without boundaries, should be available to everyone. Expressing that in the work you do, in your personality as an individual, that is a big thing. And that’s me.

Isaac

My name is Isaac and I identify as a gay man who lives openly in the United Kingdom. I am a survivor of homophobic violence in my nation, which was a horrible event that I detest recalling. I hope to have a good career here, being true to who I am and taking pleasure in all of life.

My time in the UK has been incredible. Gay asylum seekers are protected by the government and there are numerous support organisations, although I have often had to also rely on other asylum seekers for support.

Being housed in a hotel was very difficult, moving from one place to another and the struggles through Covid lockdowns. People I’ve been living with have discovered my sexuality and that has also been very difficult, but overall I’ve never felt so relieved to be myself.

I hope people can understand that I did not choose to be gay, rather I am a natural creation of God. We should all respect each other and everybody should be treated fairly. Gay people should be allowed to live a normal life because we are all fellow human beings.

To stay in the UK as a refugee you must be unable to stay in your own country for fear of persecution, and that is certainly the case for me.

*NOTE: During this project Isaac was called to his asylum appeal hearing. At the request of his solicitor I also appeared and submitted this project as evidence in support of Isaac’s case. Thankfully he has now received a positive decision and has refugee status and the right to remain in the UK.

Dennis

I have had a miserable time but can now be happy. I want to look after myself. I am thankful to be an asylum seeker. I used to be a chef in Iraq, and I want to work in the kitchen here too.

Back home I was attacked by my father, he cut my face, body, shoulder, people helped me to escape and get to a doctor. In March 2019 I travelled to Turkey, then on to Greece, Albania, Kosovo, Serbia. I got in a lorry to Italy, then on to France. I stayed in a tent in Dunkirk. Then I got a small boat, my mother paid I don’t know how.

In the boat I held my head between my knees, didn’t look at anything, lost my phone, I was so scared.

I have post traumatic stress, anxiety and shaking hands. The police thought I was the leader on the boat, they arrested me, but they believed me in the end, I know nothing about motors or boats or the sea. So I was sent to Leeds and now Sheffield.

My interviews with the Home Office are finished and I’m just waiting for my decision.

Reina

I am a gay crossdresser, I enjoy ladies clothing and anything feminine. I am just a feminine person. I’d describe my experience here as good and bad. I can live an open life here without having to hide my sexuality. I am able to live an openly gay life. The best thing ever, I never thought I’d be able to be open about my sexuality.

But just on Saturday a guy shouted at me from across the street ‘look at that gay fucker’. There is homophobic abuse here, just as I experienced it back home. You find it everywhere. Nothing is going to change.

I would like people to understand that I’m Reina, I’m a feminine gay living an open life. I’m very spontaneous and outgoing! I enjoy a good party and a dance. I also think the public should understand that going through the asylum process is not something easy. No one knows what can happen, it is stressful and you can get depressed. I worry all the time about getting refused.