Guest blog by Md Mominul Hamid
For refugees and asylum seekers, “home” is like a complex tapestry, a Pandora’s box, something precious—a weaving of special memories, dreams, supportive communities, hopes, and fears all intertwined. This tapestry represents the strength of the human spirit, carried forward even when facing life’s biggest challenges. Home becomes a sanctuary crafted one thread at a time from the depths of our experiences.
After years of living in limbo (a 6-year wait), fearing deportation, I have recently found a place to call home in Newcastle. However, this sanctuary is not just a physical dwelling but a profound state of being I have sought to cultivate throughout my difficult journey.
I now say:
Home is where my soul is
Home is where my mother was
Home is where I find refuge
My Home is the United Kingdom now.
Like the mythical Pandora’s box, my life has been an interplay of imagination and fear, filled with dreams of reclaiming what I have lost while grappling with the fear of the unknown…
The Journey to Newcastle
When I was rescued from my ex-in-laws in Middlesbrough (I was a modern-day slave victim, trafficked in the UK and confined for 6 months), my beloved friend Simon Cronin, who is no longer with us, came to take me into his home in Worcester. It was a 5-hour journey. I remember meeting him after a year, after all that stress, and telling him I could not live in a safe house – I needed a friend or someone with me. I was broken, scared, anxious, unable to see my son, totally in a new world. I did not know what to do or where to go. But one thing was better – I was at Simon’s place in Worcester, which I knew from visiting before.
It sounds strange, but to explain briefly, I came to the UK in 2009 as a student teenager. I left in 2015, went to Portugal, and in 2016 had an arranged marriage with my ex-wife, who was from the UK. There is a recorded BBC interview about my full story- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CNtUOy9AF-E
Going back to Worcester was very traumatic. I remember seeing big lorries and sitting in the road many times, with people asking if I was okay. Simon took me to the doctor, psychotherapist, legal aid solicitor appointments, shopping, etc. I used to talk to my beloved mother at that time. She was alive but severely ill with cancer. She used to tell me, “Son, let’s say you have lost everything, but you have me, your faith in the Almighty, and your son. If you need someone to stand by you as I may not live much longer, please find a way to finish your studies and become a lawyer. See the injustice happening to you and others like you, and stand for it. Your education will be your best companion in life. It will never betray you and will give you strength, livelihood, and the power to do something for your community and your son.” My mom was a high school headteacher. I really miss her. My home is literally where my mom was – it’s very close to my heart.
After living at Simon’s for 3 months, I tried to get in touch with people via email and apply for scholarships. If you dare to read how I challenged the Home Office ban and changed the law about asylum seekers’ study rights, you can read this blog post. I was becoming unsettled as my ex-wife would not let me see my son. So, I had to start legal proceedings to get visitation rights. For this, I had to apply to the Home Office for accommodation near Middlesbrough but at a safe distance from my exploiters. The Home Office gave me a place in Benwell, Newcastle, in 2018.
See my blog about challenging the Home Office Study Ban- https://abirking.com/changing-the-bail-act-of-immigration-for-new-asylum-seekers-higher-education-right-in-2018-campaign-for-scholarship-and-change-lives-by-md/
It was very empty there then, with just some diverse shops. I didn’t have a bus pass, so I walked everywhere as I had no money or internet. I used to go out looking for free books or go to the library to study and use the computers. At that time, I got only £5 per day for living expenses. It was an extremely hard time, and I knew nothing about Newcastle.
That was when I started my life in Newcastle. A lot has happened since. I’ve won numerous national and local awards and scholarships, made it into the bar course, made friends in the community, etc. But I’ll tell those stories another time. For now, let’s celebrate Refugee Week. I wish I could write a book about my journey…
Oh What is happening now, currently struggling to get a legal job or Pupillege here in Newcastle as I do not know much people in legal sector, have my ‘Mds Little Help Dinner Club’- where I invite people to have dinner with refugees as I used to be a chef before, Still volunteering in the Fire Service, Support Through court supporting community and a part time job at SSP group in Newcastle Airport.
Weaving Home: A Tapestry of Memories and Resilience:
As I think about this year’s Refugee Week 2024 theme, “Our Home”, I’m reminded that “people live on in the hearts of others. Our whole existence lies in memories.” These words ring so true because it’s the memories of loved ones that we hold tight – pieces of the homes we’ve left behind that can’t be taken away. The echoes of laughter, familiar voices, fleeting moments of joy – these bright threads bind us to our past, bringing both comfort and sadness.
For refugees who are forced to flee conflict and persecution, these memories become a sanctuary – a safe space in our minds amid the chaos of being displaced. They offer brief relief from the harsh realities we face, a short escape into the warmth of remembering a life that once was. Yet the pain of separation also comes with these memories, an aching longing to reunite with the families and friends torn away. I still dream about flying a kite on the roof back home, calling my friend, walking and singing, getting prizes in my school, and having food in my mom’s hand.
As I patiently knitted the tapestry of my six-year journey to secure refugee status, including being enslaved while searching for a home here in the UK, I faced many bureaucratic obstacles and an uncertain future. But it was these cherished memories that fuelled my resilience. They were powerful reminders of what I’d lost and hoped to regain – the chance to rebuild my life, find a true belonging, and reunite with those most dear. Now, I am nearly finishing my BAR( law) degree on a Sanctuary scholarship; I feel at home but lonely.
As I settle into my new home in Newcastle, I am reminded of the poignant words that echoed through my anthology: “Home is a charming word. I have always tried to live with a sense of home. It is where many find comfort. My imagination seeks out the components of a happy home – hope, joy, security, certainty of what life will look like in the future.”
This newfound sanctuary represents more than just four walls and a roof; it manifests the dreams I have nurtured, the resilience I have cultivated, and the unwavering belief that a better future lies ahead. Within these walls, I can begin to weave the tapestry of belonging that has eluded me for so long, creating a space where memories are cherished, and traditions are honoured. The echoes of loved ones resonate with renewed clarity.
Yet, my journey is far from over. The asylum process remains a maze of uncertainty, and I still fear losing this sanctuary. But in these moments of fear, I find solace in the wisdom shared: “In desperation, people do all sorts of things, but in distress, we can always choose kindness, love and care for each other. Even in the darkest days, we have a choice. I choose to hold onto my mother’s words: be there for our people and believe something good will happen in return.”
As I move into this new chapter, I carry with me the resilience tapestry woven by my community – fellow refugees and asylum seekers who have endured unimaginable hardships. We gently remind each other that our journeys, though difficult, are threads in a collective story of hope, perseverance and the unshakeable belief that true belonging exists beyond any physical space.
So, let us celebrate the diverse experiences that shape our tapestry understanding of home. Let us recognise that finding sanctuary is an ongoing journey of growth, adaptation, and tireless pursuit of a place where we can unfurl the tapestry of our dreams, free from the constraints of fear and uncertainty. Let us love and spread the words—” It’s Our Home, and let’s live here altogether.”
My Tapestry Sanctuary
Threads of memories, forever bound,
Echoes of Mum’s voice resound.
Laughter, like sunbeams through the gloom,
Warming this tapestry, I call home.
These new walls, more than mere brick,
These are where dreams find fertile ground to take root and thrive.
A sanctuary from life’s cruel tricks,
Where traditions are tenderly kept alive.
Each loving stitch weaves a tale,
Of resilience’s triumph over strife’s gale.
This abode, with its tapestried grace,
My people’s stories find their resting place.
Though patterns may shift, hues may stray,
The warmth of belonging will never fray.
In this home’s intricate, vibrant embrace,
Mother, where are you? I am looking for you.
Once trafficked, enslaved, a life unchosen,
Now, in Newcastle, I’ve found repose in
In this tapestry sanctuary, fears are losing their hold,
Where tomorrow’s hopes for our people take bold.
So let us live in this home-welcoming globe,
A haven when anguish and dread linger near.
My tapestry home, where memories sweetly sleep,
And dreams for a compassionate world continue to outnumber.
If you like my blog and my poem please write back to me on- abirking1988@gmail.com. Thank you for reading my story. You are awesome!