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REFUGEE HOMELESSNESS CRISIS: What does Rishi Sunak ‘clearing’ the asylum backlog look like? Homeless refugees in desperate need of help, thanks to a broken system

(Pictured) A queue, mostly made of refugees, waiting for New Horizon, London, to open
PHOTOS: GREG BARRADALE; NABIL ANANI

“The trauma is absolutely huge. People shiver as they are sitting in front of us. They burst into tears and cry,” says Blessan Babu. “Especially for women on the street in a city they’re familiar with as a safe place.”

On 3 January the Home Office resumed the eviction of newly recognised refugees – who have been granted the right to remain – from asylum accommodation. Since then, this has been the daily reality for Babu and his team at SPRING, the Sheffield Project for Refugee Integration and Growth.

In one case, a woman ended up sleeping in the park. In another, a man waiting 22 years for a Home Office decision found himself on the streets within days of being given the right to remain. Within a week of evictions starting after a Christmas pause from the Home Office, SPRING has seen 16-20 refugees freshly kicked out, with 95% of those homeless. The only hope of avoiding the streets is if you are pregnant or have a child – and so fall under “priority need”.

Refugees given leave to remain in the UK, often after harrowing experiences, are going “from a burning bush to a flaming oil situation”, Babu, SPRING’s delivery and advocacy manager, said. “They have never faced this before. This is not a gradual transition to a homeless situation. Facing this challenge is really, really difficult for them.”

As Rishi Sunak boasts of meeting a key target, this is what “clearing the asylum backlog” looks like.

HOMELESSNESS SERVICES SEE RECORD DEMAND

The New Horizon Youth Centre had not opened yet, but already 20 people were huddled outside its doors. Clad in coats, carrying backpacks stuffed with belongings, most were homeless after being evicted from asylum accommodation. At 10.15am on 4 January, they queued outside the centre, a two-minute walk from London’s Euston station.

“Ready for a busy day everyone?”, asked Polly Stephens, the centre’s head of policy, learning and communications. It would be the busiest day in the charity’s 57-year history.

As doors opened at 10.30am people filtered in. A man with a clipboard took their details. One visitor, his jacket still done up, made his way to a bench, set his coffee down and curled