A year on, Afghan interpreters stuck in limbo
Those who aided British troops say they still face ‘hurdles and barriers’ even after making it to the UK
‘I want to study here but they say I need my documents. I thought I would become a good doctor’
AS the Taliban encroached on Kabul, Raakin – a British interpreter for five years – waited in filth by the airport gates with his wife and daughter.
“I was nervous. The British forces would come to the door and call names – they were focusing on people with British passports and my name wasn’t called,” Raakin said.
“My daughter was very young, a month and a half. It was dirty, full of dust and flies.”
Raakin was one of 18,000 Afghans eligible for relocation to the UK last year, after coalition forces withdrew from his homeland and the government collapsed.
But on his fourth and final attempt to get on a flight, the Taliban swarmed the airport armed with assault rifles. “It was too late for us,” he said.
Minutes after he left, a suicide bomb killed more than 180 people. Raakin and his family went into hiding.
“I was sad and thinking I was betrayed. I took a bullet for these people and they left me behind,” he told The Sunday Telegraph. He had been shot for being the “ears and tongues” of British soldiers on patrol near Camp Bastion.
“I would see… dogs and cats being evacuated through a special operation. That would make me sad,” he added.
After weeks living underground, Raakin, his wife and daughter managed to escape to the UK. He feels safe in Britain, and is grateful for his rescue, but his life remains on standby.
His family shares one room in a hotel in Yorkshire. Without an address, he cannot apply for a driving licence, and his visitors must be approved by the hotel manager.
There is no clear route for his parents and siblings to join him in the UK – a right under the 1951 Refugee Convention – despite his work putting them in danger from the Taliban.
After Raakin fled, his younger brother in Afghanistan was tortured for six weeks. “He would be asked about me, ‘Where’s your slave brother, where’s your infidel brother?’” Raakin said. Last week, his brother-in-law was killed in what the family believes was a revenge attack.
Twelve months on and Raakin is just one of thousands of Afghans struggling to live a normal life in the UK.
To date, 9,500 remain living in temporary and often low-quality accommodation, employment is embroiled in bureaucracy and university students are struggling to re-enrol on courses.
Last September, Boris Johnson said it was a “national obligation” to help the Afghans who had supported the British mission.
But now charities say Afghan refugees have been “forgotten” and the Government is putting up “hurdles and barriers” to a normal life.
Enver Soloman, the chief executive of the Refugee Council, said the Government’s hostile environment “runs deep” with the Afghan refugees.
The policy was introduced in 2012 by Theresa May with the intention of making life in the UK difficult for those who cannot show the right paperwork.
“Boris Johnson made a big play saying a warm welcome would extend to every Afghan,” said Mr Soloman.
“They’re incredibly grateful to have made it to the UK, but they also feel let down, forgotten – the initial warm welcome hasn’t extended through to enabling them to get a home, find a job and settle in communities.”
Najiba Shukur, who is in her 20s, was in a pharmacology class when the Taliban arrived in her city. She had studied for several years and was training to be a gynaecologist. “We ran. We left our books at our desks,” she said.
Najiba’s family fled Afghanistan the following day, with no more than the clothes they were wearing.
“I want to study here, too, but I cannot,” she said. “They say I need my documents, but I couldn’t bring them with me. We came suddenly. I thought I would become a good doctor, I only had a few years left.”
Denied education, Najiba sought work, but was told to improve her English when she visited the Jobcentre.
“The fact that Afghans are facing hurdles and barriers is a reflection that the Government believes you have to make it as a difficult as possible for refugees, rather than extending a hand of compassion and welcoming refugees who are clearly fleeing persecution, death threats, potential torture, oppression,” Mr Soloman said.
A Home Office spokesman said: “It is utterly ridiculous to suggest we are creating ‘ barriers to normal life’ for Afghans in the UK, when we have a comprehensive package in place to welcome up to 20,000 people in need through the Afghan Citizens Resettlement Scheme.”
Mr Soloman said those living in “cramped hotels” are in limbo and experiencing “huge issues around depression, anxiety and high levels of stress”.
Raakin said while he is grateful to have his room, there are “many things” the refugees cannot do. “If you have someone who wants to meet you, you have to give their information to the hotel staff [to approve]. You can’t cook. You can’t apply for a driving licence.”
Najiba, who has also been living in budget hotels for a year, said the uncertainty of life has impacted heavily on her parents’ health, and they are suffering from depression and poor memory. They are so unwell that they do not leave their room, she said.
Khan, who also worked as an interpreter, is grateful to the Army for evacuating him, but said: “[The future] is really hard to think about. We’re still living in a hotel like a guest.”
He has been in temporary accommodation for more than a year with his wife, and cannot speak about his home in Afghanistan without breaking down.
“Recently, the Taliban was searching all the houses of people working for the British Army. I had left stuff. My family called and said they can’t hide it. They had to destroy it, our wedding photos,” he said.
Amid the UK’s chronic housing shortage – more than one million families are waiting for social homes – the refugees do not know how long it will take for them to have a permanent address.
A Home Office spokesman said: “We are proud this country has provided homes for more than 7,000 Afghan evacuees. But there is a shortage of local housing accommodation for all.
“While hotels do not provide a longterm solution, they do offer safe, secure and clean accommodation. We will continue to bring down the number of people in bridging hotels.”
Another major issue facing the refugees is fear for their families, Mr Soloman said. “The Government made a commitment family members would be able to come over. But they have failed to put in place a simple mechanism that would allow them to do that.”
The three refugees are pained to talk about their families, who are living with increasing curbs on women’s rights, crippling poverty, extrajudicial killings and persecutions of ethnic minorities.
“[My family] don’t want to talk about the Taliban, they change the topic, they are afraid, they are scared, they think maybe someone will hear us. Some people have been arrested because they were talking bad things about the Taliban,” said Khan, who speaks with his close relatives weekly.
In the chaos at the airport, Najiba was separated from her brother. He never made it out of the country. “He is so sad. His life is in danger.”
Raakin said his mother calls him and cries about their separation. “I was struggling to come over, to convince [the British government], so how can I convince them for my family?” he said.
Each refugee is grateful for their evacuation, and for having somewhere to sleep. Yet it’s hard to know what their future holds in the UK.
Khan is hoping to apply for a British passport and has started studying for the citizenship test. His wife is learning English.
Najiba said she has made a few friends and wishes to re-start her studies one day.
Raakin has secured two days of work a week and recently celebrated his daughter’s first birthday in the hotel lobby. It was a small affair, but his wife bought a cake and some balloons. “It was a good thing after a very long time,” he said.