He had never known Harry.
*
That night he called his son. He was at university. They spoke about food, and work. They spoke about football. He held the phone to his cheek. As he spoke, he pinched the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb, as if by squeezing, he could hold the grief in.
ASYLUM DECISION
TAWSEEF KHAN
Home Office
The Capital
New Hall Place
Liverpool
L2 9PP
Our Ref: O4537821
Your Ref: Shah/Ile/215
Date: 19 November 2010
Folake Ilesanmi
Nigeria
27 August 1982
Dear Ms Ilesanmi,
ASYLUM DECISION
You have applied for asylum in the United Kingdom and asked to be recognised as a refugee. I have considered your claim on behalf of the Secretary of State.
Summary of your claim and future fear
1. The following paragraphs are a summary of your statements and evidence in support of your application for asylum. These are based on: your Screening Interview (SCR) conducted on 19 January 2010, Statement of Additional Grounds (SAG) dated 27 January 2010, and Asylum Interview Record (AIR) dated on 28 January 2010.
2. This claim is based on your fear that if you returned to Nigeria, you would face mistreatment because you were born and raised in the Niger Delta, where there is a conflict occurring related to the oil industry.
3. You have claimed that:
a. You were born in the town of OB, Rivers State, to a Yoruba-speaking family. Alternatively, your father was Yoruba and your mother belonged to the ethnic Ijaw tribe (AIR).
b. You were the middle of five children. Your father was a fisherman. He also owned a small crop of land, which he used for farming.
c. When you were seven years old, a pipe burst (Q31). It was connected to a nearby oil field. Oil spilled across your town. Your water supply was fouled and your crops were destroyed. The land could no longer be used for farming. Alternatively, you were nine or ten years old when this happened (Q123).
d. A foreign oil company owned the pipes and fields in your area. After several years of negotiation, your chief was able to secure compensation with the help of an international NGO. The company agreed to pay $100,000. The NGO encouraged your village to reject this offer and negotiate for more money, but the council of chiefs chose to accept it. Your family’s share of this amounted to approximately $200.
e. With this money, your family relocated to the nearby town of EK. Here, your father would be closer to his family. With their support, he was able to fish and farm again. You say that this happened in 1995. Alternatively, this happened in 1996 (SAG). You lived there until 2005.
f. In 1999, the neighbouring town of PA sold some land to an oil company. This field bordered both of your towns. Nobody in your town knew about this. The field lay untouched until 2004, when officials came to prepare the land for drilling. This brought the sale to your chief’s attention, who believed the land belonged to your town. A dispute arose over ownership. It lay unresolved for some time.
g. The same company hired your eldest brother, Shakale, and some other youths to provide security to the oil operations in your town and nearby villages. Alternatively, your brother was part of a militant youth group, which was responsible for stealing oil by breaking into the pipelines, a practice known as ‘bunkering’ (SAG).
h. In February 2005, PA sent a convoy to your town to settle the matter. This boat of councillors was attacked. Most of the councillors died. Your brother’s group was blamed.
i. Several days later, the Nigerian army entered your town. Your chief thought they were coming to resolve the matter once and for all. Instead, they raided the town and destroyed it. They fired at the villagers. Your brother, Shakale, disappeared. Your father went out of your house to find him. He was caught in the crossfire and shot dead.
j. After the raid, your mother fled the town with you and your remaining siblings. You moved to the capital of Rivers State, Port Harcourt, where your mother had relatives.
k. You stayed there with your mother’s aunt. Eventually, your second brother, Ayodele, also became involved with a local gang. Alternatively, he was involved with the Rivers Oil Force, a group wanting greater control of Delta oil resources on behalf of the Ijaw people (SAG).
l. As a result, your mother decided that you had no choice but to relocate again. In 2007, your mother borrowed some money and moved again from Port Harcourt to Benin City, Edo State.
m. Each of you worked to survive. Your mother and brothers hawked food. You and your sisters worked as housemaids.
n. One day in late 2008, you were at the market with your mother buying produce to cook and sell. A woman approached your mother and, taking a look at you, offered to help you find a job. She regularly fixed jobs for bright, young Nigerian girls, she said. She found them jobs in countries like Italy and the United Kingdom. She promised that you would be able to send money back home and this way, better support your family. This woman was called ‘Elizabeth’.
o. Your mother agreed to the proposition. Elizabeth handled everything. On 13 January 2009, you and Elizabeth’s contact, ‘Michael’, travelled to Heathrow Airport. He provided you with a passport and ticket. After passing through immigration, he took the passport from you.
p. Michael drove you to a house outside of London. Once there, he informed you that you would have to do sex work to repay the money spent on bringing you here. If you did not, he would kill you. He knew your family and he would kill them too.
q. You were scared. You did not know what to do. From the next day, men started entering the house and you were forced to have sex with them. If you refused, you were beaten and denied food. You had sex with eight, maybe twelve men a day. You could not leave.
r. After three months of living like this, you managed to escape. One afternoon, Michael was busy in another room talking on his mobile phone. The front door was locked, but the key was still in the door. You seized the moment and ran out. Alternatively, this happened in April 2009 (SAG).
s. You kept running until you reached a large park, where you hid for several hours. You were too afraid to go to the police in case they returned you to Michael, or sent you back to Nigeria.
t. Eventually, a British man saw you crying and asked if you needed help. You lied and told him that you needed to leave this place and go to Manchester because you had friends there. He helped you take the coach and leave.
u. When you arrived in Manchester, you slept in the coach station. On the third day, a Nigerian woman took pity and offered to take you home. You told her your story and she advised you to claim asylum. You refused, insisting that you were too afraid.
Future Fear
v. If returned to Nigeria, you fear persecution from the security forces in the Niger Delta. You believe that your Ijaw identity and residence there, and your siblings’ involvement in the conflict, will make you a person of interest to them.
w. You also fear persecution at the hands of your traffickers.
Substantive Consideration of your Asylum Claim
4. We have thoroughly considered your claim for asylum and decided to reject it. The material facts are found to be unsubstantiated. In reaching this decision, we have compared the evidence you have provided with the objective information we hold about your claim and country. This is in accordance with the approach set down in the Court of Appeal case of Karanakaran [2000] EWCA Civ. 11.
Material Facts Consideration
5. Consideration has been given to your claim that you fear ill-treatment amounting to persecution at the hands of the security forces, who work in the interests of the oil companies operating across the Niger Delta.
The Nigeria Operational Guidance Note (OGN) (April 2009) states:
3.6.2 The oil-rich Niger Delta remains the scene of recurring violence between members of different ethnic groups competing for political and
economic power, and between militia groups and security forces sent to restore order in the area. Violence between ethnic militia groups often occurs […] over control of crude oil. […] Local communities remain vulnerable to attack by militia groups and criminal gangs (Human Rights Watch, World Report: Nigeria, 2009).
3.6.3. Members of the security forces have reportedly been responsible for extrajudicial executions, torture, and the destruction of homes in the Niger Delta. In 2008, several dozen civilians were killed in clashes between security forces and gangs. Members of the security forces alleged to have been responsible for abuses are rarely brought to justice.
3.6.4 Oil companies in the Niger Delta have not always been held to account for the impact their security arrangements […] have on the situation in the region. […] Several companies are signatories of the Voluntary Principles for Security and Human Rights (including Chevron and Shell). These principles are intended to guide companies in maintaining the safety and security of their operations within a framework that ensures respect for human rights. They […] have no monitoring mechanism, making it difficult to evaluate companies’ adherence (Amnesty International, Nigeria Ten Years On: Injustice and Violence Haunt the Oil Delta, 2005).
6. There are various inconsistencies regarding your claim to be affected by the armed conflict in the Delta region. You claim to be part-Ijaw. This is considered significant because the Ijaw are heavily involved in the Niger Delta conflict.
25.02 The current conflict in the Niger Delta has its roots in the differences between foreign oil corporations and the ethnic minority groups in the region, such as the Ogoni and Ijaw tribes, who believe that they have been exploited and squeezed out of the area’s substantial oil wealth.
25.04 The HRW briefing paper ‘Rivers and Blood: Guns, Oil and Power in Nigeria’s Rivers State’ (February 2005) reported that:
‘On September 27, 2004, the leader of a powerful armed group threatened to launch an “all-out war” in the Niger Delta, […] unless the federal government ceded greater control of the region’s oil resources to the Ijaw people, the majority tribe in the Niger Delta. The threat, made by Alhaji Dokubo Asari, leader of the Niger Delta People’s Volunteer Force (NDPVF), followed the deployment of federal government troops to quell months of intense fighting between the NDPVF and a rival armed group, the Niger Delta Vigilante (NDV). […] A Human Rights Watch fact-finding mission to Rivers State in November 2004 found that months of fighting between the armed groups has led to serious human rights abuses against ordinary Nigerians. The violence has created a profound climate of fear and insecurity in Rivers State, leaving local people reluctant to return to their homes or to seek justice for the crimes committed.’
When you were asked if you spoke the Ijaw language, you said that you did not. When questions were put to you about the Ijaw tribe and about their involvement in the armed conflict, you were not able to answer. Given that you also failed to state your Ijaw background at the SCR and in your SAG, it is not accepted that you are of genuine Ijaw ethnicity. It is likely you have fabricated this detail to bolster your asylum claim.
7. Another inconsistency relates to the incident of the burst oil pipe. At Q31, you stated that you were seven years old when this happened. But later, at Q53, you said that you were nine or ten years old. When this discrepancy was put to you (Q58), you said that you couldn’t remember your exact age, but it happened around this time. It is reasonable to expect you to remember when exactly this occurred. Similarly, it is reasonable to expect you to remember which year specifically your family left the town of your birth and relocated to another. Here, you provided contradictory answers too.
8. Moreover, at interview you stated that your second brother, Ayodele, became involved in a local gang in Port Harcourt, but when pressed on the identity of this gang (Q226), you said you couldn’t remember. But in your SAG, you said he was involved with the Rivers Oil Force, an armed militia group. Again, if your brother belonged to a militia group so integral to the Delta conflict, you should have been able to recall its name.
9. You submitted NGO reports on the armed conflict and environmental impact of oil extraction on the Delta region. These reports describe the situation in highly generalised terms. They do not refer at all to the events you have described as taking place in the towns where you lived. The documents are thus weighted accordingly.
10. In conclusion, due to the high level of inconsistencies in your account, the particulars of your asylum claim are rejected. It is not accepted that you are of Ijaw heritage, or that a burst oil pipe caused you to relocate from your village. It not accepted that your brothers were involved in the conflict, causing your family to flee these towns and later, Port Harcourt.
11. Even if the material facts were to be accepted in your claim, you would be ineligible to receive Refugee Status or Humanitarian Protection.
Sufficiency of Protection and Internal Relocation
12. We recognise that security forces are responsible for ill-treatment in the Niger Delta, often with impunity. Victims are, therefore, generally unable to rely on protection from state authorities.
13. But your fear relates to the Niger Delta region only. There is no evidence to suggest that the security forces would remain interested in you or your family if you resided in another part of the country. Therefore, you can relocate internally within Nigeria to avoid being harmed. Your family has moved around Nigeria multiple times, so this would not be unreasonable or unduly harsh. You are clearly a bright and resourceful young woman. You speak English and Yoruba, two official languages in Nigeria. This will aid your reintegration into Nigerian society.
In summary, your claim has been carefully considered but it is clear that you do not qualify for asylum or Humanitarian Protection.
Your claim to be a victim of sex trafficking will be considered under the National Referral Mechanism (NRM). A separate decision will be communicated in due course.
If you have not yet taken advice on your position, you are strongly advised to do so now.
Yours sincerely
T. Kapadia
AS.Team.1
WE’RE MADE OF ELECTRICITY
JANE CLAIRE BRADLEY
It starts in the heatwave summer. There are power cuts and no rain and we play out as long as we can, until Imogen and Amber go missing.
Before we know about them, we are satisfyingly feral, roaming the estate until dark. There have been storms, on and off, and the air tastes of tin. On the park, there’s a burnt tree everyone says was struck by lightning. When the fat raindrops start coming, we stand underneath its blackened branches. Half believing it won’t hit the same place twice, half as a dare to the sky. We are defiant, soaked through and shivering in our thin summer holiday T-shirts, watching the clouds shift and churn. The rain, when it hits us, is like being pelted with coins. Stephanie and I lean against the tree’s scorched trunk, come away with our shirts charcoal-smudged. We smack the stains from each other’s backs before we go in for tea.
The first couple of days that they’re missing, rumours teem, circulate, shift shape. The most common is that they’ve run away. But where do you run to when you’re only nine years old? Steph and I are two years above, going to big school in September and not babies anymore. We feel like wise old grandmothers when we point this out to the other bickering kids on the street. By then, the search parties are in full swing and our parents are nervous. We are banned from going beyond our back gardens and the bit of dead grass by the pub visible from all our front doors. That way, they can see where we are, see that we’re safe. Our informal committee meetings happen there each afternoon.
‘It was on the news,’ little Joey from number thirtythree mutters stubbornly. ‘They found Imogen’s jacket on a train going to London.’
‘Doesn’t her dad live in London?’ someone else asks. ‘They could have gone to his.’
‘It wasn’t her jacket, it was misidentified,’ Steph says. Whenever the topic comes up, she pretends to be b
ored. Still, she knows everything. ‘Plus, he’s got an alibi.’
That week, TV vans and reporters with cameras and microphones set up camp on the pavements outside both their houses. We’re all given warnings not to talk to them, or to any strangers. For once, we do as we’re told. We have our parents’ suspicion of outsiders already, showing itself in our glares when we see the journalists getting cigarettes and chocolate in the corner shop.
‘I’ll get those for you,’ one says one day, when he sees me waiting with our blue Jubbly lollies. Steph is outside, minding our bikes, even though all we can do with them now is go up and down the street. If she were with me she’d probably have a biting answer, but she’s not and I don’t. So I scowl and shake my head, fierce.
‘Go on,’ he says, motioning again. ‘I’ll pay.’
‘No, you won’t,’ says Yusef, from behind the till. ‘I know the law. You gotta have parental permission to talk to minors.’
‘Not if it’s not on camera,’ the man mumbles, but Yusef pulls himself up from his perma-slouch to his full imposing height, cracking his knuckles. The journalist doesn’t say anything else. He puts too much money down, snatches up his stuff and stalks out without waiting for his change.
We don’t nick any sweets from Yusef for the rest of the summer, not even our favourite sour jelly strawberries or pink sugar mice. We have our own sense of justice. We believe in karma.
At first the media circus is exciting, but we soon become desensitised. After about a week, we stop looking for ourselves in the backgrounds of shots of the estate. To start with, we read all the reports, but we soon realise how many mistakes the papers make. They get the street name wrong, or their ages, or the colour of Amber’s eyes, even when it’s next to a photo of her in her school uniform that clearly shows they’re blue. Bit by bit, our faith in the media and the authorities crumbles away. With the others, we concoct and swap our own theories. The tabloids do the same. Imogen and Amber don’t get found.
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