Seeing the heart-rending image of Oscar and his tiny daughter Valeria washed up on the banks of the Rio Grande reminds me that it is a miracle we have not yet had bodies washed up on the shores of the Kent coast yet. Every night I hear the coast guard helicopter hovering overhead, or see its searchlight swing across the sky, I say a prayer for whomever may be out on the treacherous sea trying to cross one of the busiest shipping lanes in the world in a tiny boat. The English Channel.
I live on the Kent coast in Folkestone and swim in the English Channel year round. This time of year the water looks inviting but it’s more than cold enough to bring on hypothermia if you spend too long immersed. Those not used to the cold will usually experience body shock response when they get in, which means they gasp involuntarily. If you were to fall out of a dinghy, the cold shock response might mean you swallowed water and drowned even before hypothermia could set in.
After short periods of swimming I have learned that I need a hot drink and warm clothes to wrap myself up in afterwards. Even then, I am often left shivering and struggling to get warm again.
As a refugee charity worker, I have spoken to many people who have made this dangerous journey by boat. All of them say they were terrified, that it was very cold, that they feared they might die. We can all agree on one thing. If you’re at the point where the thought of going back home is scarier than the thought of getting into a dinghy to cross the sea or swimming across a major river, you are in a desperate situation.
The home secretary, Sajid Javid just announced a one-year extension of the resettlement scheme confirming that the UK will resettle around 5000 of the world’s most vulnerable refugees in the next year. That is great news since resettlement is one of the few safe routes for refugees to come to the UK. But only around 1% of the 70,8 million refugees worldwide find safety through resettlement. The rest are left to fend for themselves, the vast majority of these people in developing countries, often in overcrowded, makeshift camps deprived of all hope, safety, dignity, work, of basic sanitation – of anything resembling a life.
It has become extremely hard for people to come to the UK, the US or European countries in a safe way so that the government can assess their asylum claim in the first place. That’s one of the reasons why people take those dangerous journeys across the Channel, the Mediterranean or in Oscar’s and Valeria’s case the Rio Grande.
I know I am lucky living in Kent but as I walk the beaches and gaze at the sea, so deceptively calm, I know others haven’t been as lucky as me – coming from countries at war. Or countries where they have been driven from their homes, jobs, opportunities, education, a future… because they are persecuted for their religious or political views, their sexuality or their identity.
Our birthplace is a lottery. People fleeing conflict or running for their lives …from soldiers, from bombs, from the army, from oppression…deserve to be heard. Shutting our doors in their faces won’t solve the problem. Why can’t we do our part and offer safe passage to those most in need?
If people’s only chance continues to be a dangerous crossing, I honestly believe that it is only a matter of time before we have to face the sight of bodies washed up on our shores. We wept over Alan Kurdi, the three-year-old Syrian boy drowned off the coast of Turkey.
Now we are devastated by the picture of a lifeless Valeria tucked into her father’s shirt. Are we prepared to face the same sights on our own shores? Because unless we act it will happen. It’s only a matter of time.”