Asylum and Immigration

Continued from yesterday
Neeta Day 1
Neeta Day 2
Neeta Day 3


Neeta's Story Day 4

The day of the court hearing arrived. We left at 6 a.m.
That journey was the most frightening part of the whole series of events!

An elderly gentleman driving an elderly car, with four of us in it, all the way to Stoke on Trent, in the middle lane of the motorway, at 50 mph in the pouring rain is not good for the heart!
It was the closest I'd come to praying in a very long time.

The local couple had a story to tell all of their own, having been refugees from Uganda during the frightening times of Idi Amin. They were a wonderful couple who had done so much for their local community.

We made it to the outskirts of Stoke on Trent and then got a bit lost.
For the first time in my life I experienced racial prejudice first hand.
When the men in the front of the car stopped to ask passers-by for directions, they were ignored.
When I asked, we were helped. It shocked me to the core.

We arrived at the court, Neeta was already there. I hugged her.
"I hope I can help."

There were many other people waiting for tribunal hearings, ours was scheduled for mid day.

I was the only white person there.

I was introduced to another woman from Leicester who had found Neeta outside McDonnalds on Christmas Eve, being harassed by a group of men. She was in tears.
This woman, who was Christmas shopping with her children, took Neeta to the Salvation Army who said they could not take her in, but they gave her a coat and a food parcel.
The food parcel consisted of a tin of soup and a packet of pasta - Ideal for someone on the streets who has nowhere to go.
The coat was the one she had been wearing ever since.
This woman then took her to the temple, with her two kids still in tow, having done no shopping.
She worked for one of the elders of the temple, as a secretary, and that is how they became involved. These two business men, stalwarts of the local Asian community, now retired, had taken her in, and she had been in their care ever since.

We waited.
I struggled to look at Neeta, the thought of her being sent back to a life on the streets in India was too much for me to consider.
We waited.
Eventually her name was called, to go to court number 3. As witnesses we had to stay outside until called to give evidence.

I was called into the hearing. It was very formal.
The court recorder gave me a look as if I was something nasty stuck to the bottom of a shoe.
Did he think I had been 'bought in' to give evidence?
I returned his gaze and thought
"How dare you look at me like that. I'll show you guys."

I was sworn in.
The judge asked "Why did you stop?"
"I don't know, I have asked myself the same question a thousand times."

"Because," I continued "You don't see people like her walking along a lane at dusk, unless there is something seriously wrong."

Why are you here today?
With a lump in my throat I said,
"Because you and I will never know what must be like to cling onto a phone number scrawled on the back of a car park ticket for almost three years. "

I stared at the court recorder, he avoided eye contact.

We won.
A week later I received a copy of the court report giving her right of leave to reside here.
I also had another series of calls of thanks, from these lovely people.


The reason I have shared this now, is that just recently, nearly a year on from the court hearing, I had a phone call from a man in Leicester, saying Neeta wanted to speak to me.
She is here in England, and they are just about to get married.
Her English is still poor.
She said thanks and handed me back to the man.
I thanked him for letting me know, he thanked me for helping her.

"You'd better look after her." I said, wiping a tear from my cheek.
He laughed a lovely laugh.

I think he will.