Farzad's Story - Refugee Council

Farzad’s Story

Farzad escaped religious persecution in Iran. He survived a dangerous journey, and has been rebuilding his life with support from the Refugee Council.

Farzad spoke to our team about his journey to the UK. This is his story in his own words and has been edited for clarity.

I was forced to flee my country, Iran.

I’m Muslim by birth but I converted to Christianity. We had our own church, they call it a “home church”, but it was found out by the government. They are very harsh on people who are converting.

I was at work when there was a raid on my house. My parents’ house was also searched. After that, I realised I really need to leave the country right away. Because of that I left everything behind.

Before, I had a small business, I was very happy with my life and with my friends. I didn’t have any arrangement to leave the country even for a short time, let alone forever.

It turns your life upside down. Apart from your business, your property, it’s your family, the things you’ve grown up with, the things you’re used to, even the food that you love. Everything! My biggest fear is my immediate family, my parents and siblings. It’s a very fundamental change in a life. You always have that sense of missing home.

I thought if I need to go, at least I’ll go somewhere where I don’t need to learn the language from scratch. Ten people were with me [at first, on the journey], but maybe eight of them went to other places in Europe. Only two of us went to the UK.

The smugglers put you in the back of lorries and take you to kind of safe houses they have, they keep you there for weeks, sometimes a month, then they take you to a different place, on a van or a truck again. People were forced to work for these smugglers, there was a lot of abuse going on.

They said “follow these big ships that are usually going to England.” We were nine hours on the sea.

The plan wasn’t originally to go by boat [across the channel]. The plan was they’d put us in a truck, but at the last minute, we found out that it was actually a boat. There was a group of people in big cars, they’re flashing their guns sometimes. There were people who really didn’t want to go to the boat, but they kind of forced you, you don’t have any choice.

You know, I haven’t been adventurous in my life at all. It was the middle of December in this cold, misty ocean. You couldn’t see a hundred meters away, you couldn’t see the people around you. It was a cold, eerie environment.

The person driving this boat had no experience. There was one guy who volunteered to do it, there was no navigation, no devices, they said “follow these big ships that are usually going to England.” We were nine hours on the sea. The boat had capacity for nine or ten, it’s a holiday boat, it’s not meant to go this far.

When the rescue boat picked us up, we still weren’t really close. We were all men, they were crying, calling God, calling their parents, asking for forgiveness. You feel the closeness of death, you’re not really optimistic about reaching the other side.

It was a good feeling to feel safe, when we arrived – at least your life is not in danger anymore. Most of that journey had happened in closed places, in rural places or in cars and vans, we couldn’t see out. But now I saw people, signs in English. 

 

"You feel the closeness of death."

I didn’t know [crossing the channel] is such a big deal in politics in this country. What I was thinking is I was going somewhere safe. I’d heard about Europe and human rights, so I thought they wouldn’t harm me more than I’ve been harmed before in my country. It wasn’t that I analysed the political situation and then chose a country.

When we came to Dover, we were dispersed to hotels all over the country. The second day, I was sitting in the hotel in the lobby, and [some people from the] Refugee Council came to the hotel. I started to volunteer for the Refugee Council from my second day, helping to translate for other people who didn’t speak English. It made a massive difference, that meant a lot to me, just to feel useful.

One of the biggest problems is that you aren’t allowed to work until you get your refugee status. Having something to do can really help your mental health. At the same time, I was learning a lot about the UK system, the way of working in this country.

After a year, my status was accepted. You’re allowed to work, to earn money, to get your driving licence, to travel – the world changed! Refugee Council had a scheme, it was a course in hospitality, I did that, and there was a scheme with IKEA they had. I started to do two jobs, actually, with the help of the Refugee Council.

People are really keen to get back to normal. Mostly they have work experience, from before, they have skills, it’s about adapting. You don’t need a massive amount of training and skill to start work. My friends have started a business, or they are doing jobs they did back home. These things massively change your life, it’s very different from that time in limbo.

People get traumatised more, they lose their faith in the system, and then even if they get their status, it will be harder for them to recover. They are really keen. It makes a massive change if you can support them rather than isolate them.

When I speak to other people they see me as a friend, they don’t see me as a threat. People are curious, they ask questions, they want to know me as a person. They see me as a human, rather than a number.

It really means a lot to us, people need organisations like the Refugee Council to help them integrate. It’s better for all of us not to treat newcomers as threats, but to help them. I promise you they will be useful. The whole country will be better off. The worst way possible to treat people is to put them in isolation or detention and threaten them. It will just add to their mental health problems.

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