Hidden Stories @ Migrant Voice conference



Bari, Florella, Jean and Oscar; four of the subjects of ‘Hidden Stories’, a project about the personal stories of asylum seekers and undocumented migrants which I shot while doing my MA at London College of Communication. 12 of the pictures were exhibited in London last weekend at the Migrant Voice/Churches Refugee Network annual conference, and you can see a bigger selection on flickr.
Applicants Only

Yesterday morning I accompanied Bari to an interview with immigration officers to clarify his nationality and identity in light of his new appeal against his asylum rejection. The sign on the door to Eaton House ‘Migrant Processing Centre’ in Hounslow (I don’t know what term the Home Office uses for such a building, but that seems to be its function) stated ‘Applicants Only’, so I had to stay outside, as I had expected. I took a couple of snaps of Bari standing in front of the building but almost immediately (also as I had expected) uniformed officials came to tell me that photography was prohibited, so I made naive student noises and went to take sneaky pics from behind the adjacent bus shelter instead. Bari’s interview lasted 2 hours, during which the immigration officers did their best to convince him he was Nigerian, not Nigerien – had he been Nigerian (from Nigeria, not Niger) it would be much easier for the Home Office to get him travel documents and deport him, due to Britain’s dimplomatic links with that country… what a difference an A makes, as they say.
While Bari was busy maintaining that his nationality was spelt with ‘ien’ not ‘ian’, I had nothing to do but sit outside in the cold and drizzle (it was sunny when I left home and I dressed thinking it was going to be another beautiful day like yesterday. How wrong I was, ha!), shivering and pretending to be waiting for a bus, so I tried to think about how I was going to edit the various tangents and whims that have formed my project so far into a single, coherent photo story.
The thing about Bari’s story is that – in terms of his asylum claim – nothing visual is happening. Things happened in the past (being a slave, escaping to the UK, working illegally, getting detained) and might happen in the future (asylum/deportation) but at the moment the only thing happening is the shuffling of papers in non-descript government offices where photojournalists are unwelcome. At the start of the project I had in mind doing a series of pictures of objects, body details and places that would tell Bari’s story – shoes he bought when he was working, a scar he got on his arm from being beaten as a slave, his left eye, which had become damaged after picking up a severe infection in Harmondsworth detention centre etc etc. Much influenced by Jodi Beiber’s ‘Survivors’ story on domestic violence victims (check out http://www.jodibieber.com) I planned to make poignant images on 6×6 format that would exploreBari’s difficult past, uncertain future and present in limbo.

Apart from not having a 6×6 camera (I inititally tried to solve this setback by square cropping all my images, which, apart from possibly being seen as ‘cheating’, meant that the already iffy image quality of my 6MP istD was approximately halved), my main dilema was that as I got to know him, I realised that the series of images I had planned said more about my expectations of what an asylum seeker’s story might be, and little about his actual personality.
Where I had imagined making portraits of him sitting around looking isolated and anxious, it seemed that in reality Bari was grateful to be in Britain, optimistic about the future, and far from waiting passively waiting for his asylum request to be processed, keeps himself busy by living as full a life as possible as he can in his circumstances. Prohibited from working and without money for transport or leisure, he is proud of the routine he has developed to give meaning to his day – he prays at the mosque, prepares his food with the same professional dedication as when he was a chef, spends his afternoons studying English and is actively involved with several organisations that are fighting for immigrant rights.

Before the end of term I expressed my doubts to Judah (Judah Passow – top photojournalist and LCC tutor/guru for any non-MAPJDers who might read this… check out www.judahpassow.com), who liked the story but couldn’t see why I was trying to make it fit the angle I had chosen (isolated/anxious/victim). ‘Just go out and spend a week shooting his life’ he recommended, so that’s what I’ve tried to do… thing is, I’m worried that my pictures of Bari actively going about his daily routine do little to suggest the frustration he feels at not being able to work or have the right to remain in Britain. It’ll be quite a balancing act to get a series of images that shows his optimistic personality and active routine as well as the limitations, uncertainty and dependence on the state that are a fact of his life as an asylum seeker. Tomorrow – the last day of shooting before I hand in the assignment – should be a bit of both… he’s travelling in to central London to attend a meeting to do voluntary work with a refugee organisation, and also I think going to queue up to get the 2 free weekly bus tickets that Section 4 asylum seekers are entitled to (I think). After that, it’s to the editing table to try to put something together that tells everything the story needs to tell in 15 images…

Employment Prohibited

My Easter project is about Baba Bari, an asylum seeker from Niger. I met Bari (he always calls himself by his surname, so I’ll call him by that too) at a demonstration in Parliament Square organised by the Refugee Council, protesting against the destitution of failed asylum seekers. Bari came to Britain to escape slavery in Niger – he had been taken into slavery at a young age and since early childhood had worked herding his master’s cattle, without pay and frequently, except for cow’s milk and whatevery he could forage in the bush, without food.
To escape life as a slave, Bari sold two of his master’s cows – a crime punishable by death in Fulani tribal law. He travelled by donkey and lorry to Abidjan in the Ivory Coast and in late 2004, with civil war erupting there, stowed away on a boat bound for Britain. Here, Bari found a job in a fast food restaurant through someone he met at a mosque. For over a year he had financial control of his life, working as a kitchen assistant and eventually getting promoted to chef, until his restaurant was raided by immigration officials and he was arrested for working without proper documents. He was detained for 5 months in various detention centres. In detention he requested asylum. His claim was rejected and he was flown back to Niger under escort. The Nigerien authorities, however, refused to allow him to enter the country since he had no Nigerien documents. After 3 unsuccessful deportation attempts, Bari was released from detention and allowed to remain free while the Home Office try to persuade the Nigerien authorities to give him travel documents. Since Bari is complying with this attempt to repatriate him and has no other means of support, he qualifies for National Asylum Support Service (NASS) Section 4 ‘hard case’ support. This provides him with accomodation and food vouchers, which keeps him from destitution but, since he is not allowed to work, means that once again he has no financial independence.
At the beginning of March Bari launched an appeal against his asylum rejection. The process will take months and the outcome is far from certain – according to his case worker, his chances of being granted asylum are slim. For the time being, Bari’s life is in limbo. He is stateless, his only form of identity the Immigration and Nationality Directorate registration card that states his details along with the bold capitals stating the words EMPLOYMENT PROHIBITED.



