Posted on November 11, 2025. Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Collective Wisdom, gay, immigration, lesbian, life, love, mental-health, nigeria, stayecy, UK, writing |
I am from Nigeria, which is a very dangerous place for LGBTQI+ people. Being gay is not accepted there – it’s a taboo, a curse. Society, and the government, are very religious and homophobic. You can get killed. When people in my community found out that I was a lesbian they attacked me; I was almost crushed to death.
I knew I needed to leave Nigeria and came to the UK around 2006/07. It is much safer for me here. When I first arrived, I didn’t know how the system worked. I wanted to be left alone because I was unsure if I could trust people after what had happened to me. I was scared and in a dark place for years. But it got better when I started socialising and going to LGBT meetings with Many Hands One Heart. I was really relieved to meet people here.
“I wasn’t sure if I could claim asylum as an LGBTQ person. The Home Office interview was stressful… I was so sad throughout it all. I felt alive but not alive.”
My first experience of claiming asylum wasn’t good. I wasn’t sure if I could claim asylum as an LGBTQI+ person. The Home Office interview was stressful and eventually I was refused. I made several more claims for asylum, and they were all refused. I was so frustrated and miserable. I tried so hard and went all over the place. I went to court in Manchester, and contacted solicitors in Glasgow, and Newcastle. I was so sad throughout it all. I felt like I was alive but not alive.
I was held in immigration detention once, in Yarl’s Wood, for two months in 2015. It was a nightmare. It’s hard to talk about. After my asylum claim was rejected, they came to my house and told me I had no case and would be detained. Detention is not a good place. It is a deadly experience. You don’t have any freedom; you can’t even see daylight. You don’t know how long you will be there. It could be months or years. It’s a disastrous experience for a person. Everyone in there was scared.
I really deteriorated while I was detained. My leg was still very damaged and swollen from the attack in Nigeria. I was very ill, but I got no treatment. It is so unhealthy to be in detention. You are always in your room with no sunlight, no fresh air. There are restrictions everywhere. The staff are OK, but they don’t give you good food to eat. No-one comes to check on you; you are left for hours and hours, with rubbish food, and no water. My health just got even worse.
I asked for help and medical treatment, but no-one responded because no-one cared. So I decided to protest. I needed to say enough is enough. We had no human rights, no voice. We weren’t criminals, we had not committed any crimes – but we were treated like slaves, locked up all day. We weren’t respected as humans. We needed to speak out. We needed the world to know this is not right.
“Detention is not a good place… You don’t know how long you will be there. It could be months or years. It’s a disastrous experience for a person. Everyone in there was scared.”
Not long after the protest they told me I can go home. I didn’t understand. No-one talks to you about your situation. You aren’t supported, nobody tells you when you will be released. I didn’t know if they meant Nigeria or home in the UK. I was scared after the protest they would remove me from the country, but they said I could go home in the UK. I got no warning and wasn’t told why I was released. I had nowhere to go, but luckily I could stay with a friend.
Immigration detention was a very bad experience, and I worry about being detained again. You are scared for your future. It is such an unhealthy place; it’s a disaster for your life. It’s not good for anyone, ever. It feels like it’s killing you.
This story was originally published at: https://www.rainbowmigration.org.uk/stories/stayceys-story/
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Posted on November 11, 2025. Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: immigration, lesbian, LGBT, lgbtq, life, Manono, mental-health, politics, UK, writing |
I am from Malawi. It’s a very Christian country and being LGBTQ there is very bad. They don’t believe that LGBTQ people exist. So, you have to keep it to yourself. There is nothing you can do about it because you are scared you will get killed.
I came to the UK to study, and at first it was hard for me to come out. It took a long time during which I was still living in the closet. But when I did come out it was a big breakthrough for me. In Malawi I was scared that my family would force me to marry a man, and if I didn’t, they would kill me straight away. Coming to the UK was an escape. I have been here for 18 years now. I am happy with my girlfriend here. We feel safe and can live openly.
“When you come to the UK as a refugee, you don’t think about bringing “evidence” of being LGBTQ because you are running away from your country where you aren’t safe.”
But claiming asylum here was a very bad experience. It was so hard for me. You need to give evidence to the Home Office for them to believe you are a lesbian. When you come to the UK as a refugee, you don’t think about bringing “evidence” of being LGBTQ because you are running away from your country where you aren’t safe. When the Home Office tell you you have to get evidence, you don’t know what they mean. I went through a lot and tried to claim asylum many times, but it’s just refusal, refusal, refusal. After my claim was denied because of evidence I put in a fresh claim, but I’m still waiting for a decision after 5 years.
I have been treated really badly in the asylum system. All the refusals and delays have been really difficult.After I was released from detention, I had nowhere to go and no support and was homeless for a year. When I was given Home Office accommodation, it was so dirty and bad to live in – there was water from the upstairs toilet leaking through the ceiling onto my bed. I called ITV News and they interviewed me, to show the awful conditions that people claiming asylum are made to live in.
I have been in immigration detention more than once. The first time I was detained, I was in shock. I didn’t know what was going on. They took me away and locked me up. Inside detention I had no privacy – there were always guards at the door, who said they needed to watch over me because of my health. But the healthcare there was very bad. The nurses don’t want to give you any medication. One day I had to go to hospital, and they handcuffed me. Everyone was looking at me as though I was a criminal.
Nothing is good in detention. When you are there it’s like you’re serving a death sentence. You are scared of getting sent back to your home country. It triggers lots of mental health problems.
Detention centres are very bad places for an LGBTQ person. I did not tell anyone I was a lesbian. I thought I was going to be sent home, so I knew that if I was open about my sexuality, it was going to be very hard for me when I went back to Malawi. So I kept it to myself. There were other LGBTQ people in detention with me, and they were as scared as me. Some of us knew each other from outside detention, and you are scaredsomeone might tell other people about you. It’s very hard, because a lot of people in the community still do not accept gays or lesbians.
“Detention centres are very bad places for an LGBTQ person. I did not tell anyone I was a lesbian.”
Being in detention made me feel like I’m not a human being. I felt like I was just a number. It has made me lose my confidence. It’s so hard not knowing how long you’ll be there, because being in detention is the worst place you can be. It is a shock, and everyone detained is struggling. It’s a very bad place to be a woman. I am so scared of going there again. I never want to go back. Detention really is a very, very bad place.
I want everyone to know how bad detention centres are. Detention is a waste of taxpayers’ money. It’s worse than prison. No human being should be there. After I was in detention, I visited a centre to give a speech outside to people detained. They were all very scared, and many were worried about being sent to Rwanda. I went to speak to them because I wanted to raise awareness, and tell them how to find the right solicitors, or how to cope with being in there, because being in detention is so hard.
This story was originally published at: https://www.rainbowmigration.org.uk/stories/manonos-story/
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Posted on November 11, 2025. Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: anel, Collective Wisdom, family, immigration, kazakhstan, lesbian, life, love, mental-health, Rainbow Migration, writing |
My name is Anel, I am a lesbian woman from Kazakhstan. My life in Kazakhstan was torture. I have short hair, and like wearing men’s clothes. People used to stare at me and call me names. It was very stressful to leave the house. It was always a challenge to protect myself and keep myself safe. Being LGBTQI+ is seen as a “foreign phase” in Kazakhstan. There is a quite big queer community now, but most people try and be as heteronormative as possible. It is much safer to conform to societal norms, and women are expected to be very feminine. Kazakh culture is reluctant to accept anything else, and generally people struggle to understand anyone who is different. I faced daily threats because people didn’t like the way I looked. It is difficult for anyone who is LGBTQI+, and if, like me, you don’t fit into gender stereotypes, life is very hard. You live in fear of everything, even your own family.
I came out to my mum in 2016; she said it was not normal, and that I would outgrow it. She took me to see a soothsayer; who predicted I would be married to a man for sure. My mother shared with me that she wants to send me to the USA to study but only if I marry a man and have two children by age 29. Most lesbians in Kazakhstan experience this kind of pressure and manipulation from their families.
I knew I wouldn’t be safe if I stayed in Kazakhstan. It was painful to accept that I couldn’t live my life as I wanted, that I couldn’t be myself. I was constantly stressed. I moved to China to study in 2018, and there I met my girlfriend. She is from Kyrgyzstan. I felt so much happier, but COVID meant we had to return to our home countries, and once the borders were closed, we had to look for somewhere else to be together.
“This country lets you be what you want to be, and people can accept this. It’s so much freer here… It’s so beautiful to me.”
Eventually we found an initiative to be a farmworker in the UK; we applied, we both got accepted, and we arrived in the country in May 2022. However, we were quickly separated again. I was placed on a farm in London, but my girlfriend was sent to work in Scotland. It was heartbreaking. My partner’s farm was awful; she had to endure terrible living conditions, and she wasn’t treated well. Thankfully she was eventually able to transfer to the farm I was working at. It was tough work, but we were so happy to finally be back together. We fell in love with each other all over again!
In July 2022 we went to London Pride. It was amazing. Everyone was so free; everyone was so happy! It was incredible to see so many people there together, as a community, being just what they want to be. People were smiling at us and telling us what a beautiful couple we are! It was unbelievable, and to be honest, even shocking to us. This country lets you be what you want to be, and people can accept this. I don’t feel I am going to be randomly attacked everyday just for being me. It’s so much freer here than where I am from. It’s so beautiful to me.
We applied for asylum in September 2022; in the process I heard from one guy about the possibility of claiming asylum as an LGBTQI+ person. He told me Micro Rainbow could help with accommodation, and then a close friend told me about Rainbow Migration. I got in touch, and they helped us, advising us on what we can do.
In November 2023 I needed to find a new lawyer and I got a call from Zehrah from the legal team at Rainbow Migration. She spoke to me for over 45 minutes and gave a lot of very helpful advice. She told me she will help me prepare for the asylum process and answered all my questions. She was so professional, very easy to talk to, and made me feel comfortable. I liked talking to her, and it made such a difference to have someone really listen to me and offer so much support.
I also spoke to Ayesha, the Legal Service Manager. She contacted me and gave me more information about pro bono lawyers. Then a few weeks later, one of the lawyers got in touch to say they had accepted my case. Zehrah came with me to the first meeting with the lawyer, in December 2023. I was so shocked – it was a very big law firm in central London. I was totally overwhelmed. I am so, so grateful to Rainbow Migration, because without their legal team, I would never have got access to such a big, international law firm. A whole team of four lawyers worked on my case. It was unbelievable, like some miracle happened!
I knew we needed to prepare quickly for the Home Office interviews, and Zehrah and Ayesha were always there for us throughout the process. They oversaw everything, knew exactly what was going on, and were always clear about what we should expect. They were amazing.
“I was granted refugee status in February. It was like a dream come true. It is so frustrating to seek asylum. You feel so alone. You can’t work, you can’t use your skills. You feel useless. You dream of getting status. Once you get it, your life can begin again.”
I had my second interview in January 2024 and was granted refugee status in February. It was like a dream come true. It is so frustrating to seek asylum. You feel so alone. You can’t work, you can’t use your skills. You feel useless. You dream of getting status. Once you get it, your life can begin again. You can’t make excuses anymore. It is such a happy moment, but you also feel a bit weird. I am still processing everything that has happened.
Now I can start thinking about my future. We want to get married and start a family. We want to travel, and maybe even open a business, or start a charity. We really want to help other people. We are hopeful, positive, and optimistic. We are looking forward to living safely and freely as a lesbian couple.
I am so glad we got help from Rainbow Migration. I am still shocked by how much they did for me; I didn’t expect it. I am so, so thankful for everything.
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Posted on November 11, 2025. Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: cameroon, dona, family, immigration, lesbian, LGBT, lgbtq, life, love, writing |
My name is Dona. I’m from Cameroon. I’m the youngest of 15 children. My father would threaten all of us with death if any of us were homosexual: “Whoever among you is homosexual, I will kill with my own hands like a rat,” he said.
My mother said “gwuines”, (which means lesbians in old French slang) go to hell. For some reason, she always said it while looking at me. Indeed, I was different; not much of a tom boy, but it’s like I had a man’s character. My father even used to call me Mister. I knew I was different without realising what homosexuality even was.
One day, I heard my cousin telling my sister that she doesn’t feel comfortable around me because I look at her like a man. Slowly I began to understand that I was attracted to women, but I kept it secret. I didn’t want to go to hell, so I confided in our church youth coordinator. She was a beautiful woman. Surprisingly, she told me about queer people, and the necessity to accept difference. She later became my first love, but our story would only last for a short period of time – she went abroad to “study”, but never came back. With hindsight, now I think it was her way of escaping Cameroon.
“Coming to London was a relief right away from the airport… There were banners of queer people kissing each other, rainbow flags, same sex couples holding hands openly or broadcasted on TV. It was a signal I had to come out. So, I did.”
Traumatized by the sudden break-up, I fell into a deep depression, and I turned to the God who my mother said was against homosexuality. I engaged my life in Christ Jesus and turned my back on my past life as I considered the disappointment as a divine warning before burning in hell fire.
I got married to an abusive man. We had three children together. I was so unhappy. I never felt at ease until my brother invited me to the UK for the holidays after noticing I was constantly depressed.
Coming to London was a relief right away from the airport. There was a wind of relief, of victory, of freedom everywhere. There were banners of queer people kissing each other, rainbow flags, same sex couples holding hands openly or broadcasted on TV. It was a signal I had to come out. So, I did.
A burden was off my shoulders. But then the nightmare started. My husband threatened me with witchcraft if I ever went back to Cameroon. He told me I would never see my children again. Fortunately, my brother backed me up – he had a different understanding of life afte 20 years in the UK. He advised me not to return, fearing for my life, and to seek asylum, as he knew Human Rights are prioritised in this country. So, I did, against my will.
I met a friend who introduced me to Rainbow Migration. It was a gift from heaven at the appointed time. Without my caseworker Claire, I would have gone back. I was ready to die.
“Without my caseworker Claire, I would have gone back; I was ready to die… She helped me find a solicitor; she also helped me to provide basic needs like food and healthcare.”
Without Claire’s support I would have hurt myself. I was so depressed. She helped me find a solicitor for free. She also helped me to provide basic needs like food, healthcare and a scholarship for my homeless children, who were back home and had been abandoned by their father because of me, their lesbian mother.
It wasn’t easy but I stayed strong until I was granted refugee status and started my family reunion process which will mean I will be reunited with my family soon.
I’m forever grateful to Rainbow Migration and their devoted team, encouraging us day and night. Fighting for change, justice and freedom. Today, I have a better life; quiet and settling bit by bit. I have a girlfriend and we’re planning to get married once our children are reunited with us. Thank you.
This was originally posted at: https://www.rainbowmigration.org.uk/stories/donas-story/
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Posted on November 11, 2025. Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: immigration, lesbian, life, mental-health, nigeria, olu, politics, UK, writing |
My name is Olu. I am a lesbian woman from Nigeria, where it is an abomination to be a lesbian. I tried to deny myself that I’m a lesbian just to honour my parents and make myself be what they wanted me to be. I even got married to a man and had children. When my husband found out that I liked women, I was nearly killed.
I came to the UK to seek asylum because I had been on holiday here and it’s the only place that I know well apart from my country. I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t even know that I could claim asylum based on my sexuality.
I claimed asylum but it was a very difficult experience. I had scars and plasters from the violent attacks back home, but still the Home Office didn’t believe I was a lesbian.
“Your immigration status as an asylum seeker shuts the door on you for so many things. The whole process made me doubt myself.”
The asylum process has been really heartbreaking for me. I was expecting to be welcomed, to be embraced, and that they [the government] would help me out but they are adding more terror into my life. Your immigration status as an asylum seeker shuts the door on you for so many things. The whole process made me doubt myself. I felt worthless. When you are seeking asylum you can’t work, and I had to give up my dream of higher education at university, because I couldn’t get funding. It was overwhelming and exhausting for me. I was sofa surfing and waiting on people or organisations to support me with literally everything. You can’t think clearly, and it pushed me to the edge – sometimes I thought about ending it all.
Eventually I had to start a fresh claim. When you claim on the basis of being LGBT+, you have to prove yourself. At one point the Home Office put me in accommodation in a remote location, where there were no LGBTQI+ services or activities. It was so hard to be so isolated, especially when the Home Office then asks for evidence of my participation in any LGBTQI+ events.
“I eventually found Rainbow Migration, who helped me secure foodand phone top-ups and provided emotional support.”
All of this affected me mentally and physically. I’ve been homeless. Lots of things have happened to me that make me feel no sense of belonging.
I eventually found Rainbow Migration, who helped me secure food and phone top-ups and provided emotional support. I also got in touch with Naz and Matt Foundation, Galop, and Micro Rainbow, who helped me when I was homeless. I couldn’t have done without all this support; thank you!
*We are happy to say that Olu was granted refugee status in 2024. Upon telling us her good news, she quoted Laurel Hubbard, the first openly trans woman to compete at the Olympic Games.
“There are moments of high mood, there are moments of low mood, there are moments of injury, there are moments of progress, there are moments of stagnation. All we can do is to keep on pushing.”
This was originally posted at: https://www.rainbowmigration.org.uk/stories/olus-story/
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Posted on September 13, 2012. Filed under: Stories - from other sites | Tags: gay, gloria, immigration, jackie, lesbian, LGBT, Pakistan, US |
Like many young newlyweds, Gloria and Jackie*, both 24, enjoy spending a lot of time together. They eat breakfast together every morning before Jackie goes to work at one of her three jobs. They text each other throughout the day and steal away together when Jackie is free between jobs. On days off Gloria and Jackie do the grocery shopping and the laundry together, or head to the beach in their North Shore community.
“We complete each other’s sentences; often we’re thinking the same thing at the same time. We’re just really soul mates,” says Gloria. “And it’s just hard to keep us apart.”
Despite their strong and loving bond – not to mention their marriage – there is one thing that could certainly keep them apart: the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA). Gloria is a Pakistani national and because DOMA prevents federal recognition of their marriage, Jackie is unable to sponsor Gloria for U.S. citizenship, as other Americans can do for their foreign-born spouses.
Gloria came to the U.S. on a student visa to attend college in Massachusetts. She and Jackie met there and fell in love. Assigned as roommates, there was an instant connection on the day they moved into their dorm room, back in 2008.
“We stayed up all night, and we just started talking about our relationships, and our families, and all these things,” recalls Jackie, a Massachusetts native. “We’re kind of private people so for us to just start talking right away, it was crazy. We had a lot of things in common even though we were from two different countries.”
Among Gloria and Jackie’s common interests was the desire to be involved with their college community; both were members of the Student Government Association. They also share an interest in helping others, which led them as students to participate in a mission trip to Trinidad. Gloria helped refurbish a church in a poverty-stricken community and Jackie worked with people with HIV/AIDS, who are outcasts in Trinidad.
They became inseparable. When Gloria confessed to Jackie that she was leaving school after their freshman year because of financial problems, Jackie agreed to move with her to Texas, where Gloria’s parents had moved from Pakistan. Over the course of living with Gloria’s parents for a year, the couple realized they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together.
Gloria and Jackie also realized that they eventually wanted to get married – which they could not do in Texas. “We kind of packed up a car and just headed back up to Massachusetts and started our life from a car pretty much,” says Jackie. “We just keep going because we have just strong love for each other.”
Gloria and Jackie exchanged wedding vows in an intimate ceremony – just the two of them and their officiant – in a picturesque little gazebo on the North Shore on October 23, 2011.
While they try to maintain a normal life and routine, DOMA complicates their domestic life. Because they cannot afford the expensive tuition costs that foreign students must pay to attend school in the States, Gloria’s student visa has expired. She cannot work because she has no green card, hence Jackie’s three jobs—as a hotel concierge, a restaurant server and leading programs for elders at an independent assisted living facility. Despite DOMA, they have applied for Gloria to get a marriage-based green card and are hoping Jackie’s petition for her wife will at least be put on hold, enabling Gloria to stay with Jackie in the United States for the time being.
Their experience led them to become involved with Stop the Deportations, Separations and Exile – The DOMA Project, a campaign to raise awareness of, and bring an end to, DOMA’s discrimination against bi-national same-sex couples. They have been sharing their story with the news media and elsewhere with an eye toward educating people about the negative impact DOMA has on their lives.
They try not to contemplate how life would be were Gloria deported to Pakistan.
“I can’t imagine,” says Gloria. “I was nineteen when I met Jackie so all the adult life that I’ve had has been with Jackie. I don’t even know how I would function without her. I can’t imagine it, but most likely, if I end up going, I would probably face big time discrimination for being Christian and gay and a woman. So I mean, I would probably be harmed there, I feel like. I can definitely not be out there as a lesbian.”
It’s easier imagining how they’d feel if DOMA was struck down in the courts or overturned legislatively.
“It would be a huge relief,” Gloria says. “I think we would have the biggest celebration of our life. We talk about it often and Jackie always says she would cry with happiness. We’d be just really, really happy and relieved and excited for life. I think that would make us go on with our life how everyone does and how we’re supposed to. I think we can have more of a normal 24- or 25-year-old life, which we are not having now.”
*The couple asked that their last names and other identifying information be withheld out of concern for their personal situation and for the safety of Gloria’s extended family in Pakistan.
This story is located at: http://www.glad.org/doma/stories/no-normal-life-for-newlyweds-living-under-domas-threat/
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Posted on September 13, 2012. Filed under: Stories | Tags: gay, immigration, jess, lesbian, LGBT, maria, UK, US |
This is a love story, but not a typical one – at least not one you read about in novels and see on the screen at the cinema. Unfortunately, our story IS typical in that it is a reality for thousands of couples whose love does not see borders or miles and their sexual orientation does not give them an option for an easy fix. This is the predicament Maria and I have found ourselves in, though compared to many others, our solution IS rather easy. I am from America and Maria is from the UK; thankfully one of us is from a country that recognizes same sex unions for the sake of immigration. However, I haven’t made the process as seamless as it could have been with my past mistakes and criminal history. Because America does not recognize same sex marriage federally, Maria is not eligible to immigrate to the States as my wife; however, the UK is far more progressive and allows immigration for same sex partners. If we want to be together that means leaving everything and everyone I have known to move to England, which is something I would gladly do, except for the bind my criminal history has put us in.
Maria and I first met on a silly internet site in October of 2009, when I was 26 and she was 33. We became instant friends, and while I had a romantic interest in her, Maria made it clear that friendship was all she was looking for. By week two of talking I insisted that Maria would become my wife (I even took to calling her My Future Wife). Maria, however, was having none of it. She did not entertain my romantic notions, and what grew in place of obsession and lust was meaningful conversation and genuine interest in the other. For a year, she was the girl I called my best friend. We emailed each other every day, and spent a lot of time on MSN messenger. We occasionally chatted on the webcam and wrote little notes to each other that we would scan to the other. She told me about her life and I told her about mine – our journeys were very different on the surface, but internally we were both going through major tectonic shifts.
She flew to Denver, CO, USA in September of 2010, and we spent three and a half wonderful weeks together. I pulled out all of the charm I could summon – I knew because of the distance I would never get another chance and it was now or never. I loved the girl, and I needed to show her why she should love me, too. Over a holiday in the mountains and a trip to the west coast our love began to develop and by the time she got back on her plane to return to London we were equally balanced. We were unsure what was to happen next, or how we would proceed, but both of us were prepared to give this a chance to grow. We did not let fear stop us or slow us down. We knew we had found love in each other, and that love was too special to the both of us to allow it to be stunted.
In December 2010 I boarded a plane to go to England. I originally thought my tourist visa would only be for three months, so when I was questioned by an entry clearance officer, I stated my length of stay to be three months. Here is where I ran into my first snag: I didn’t have the funds to support myself in London for three months and, unfamiliar with English phone numbers, I wrote down Maria’s mobile number incorrectly. I was detained by the entry clearance officer for several hours until Maria was able to contact the person handling my case. After both of us were interviewed several times, I was released into the country with a six month tourist visa!
The months that followed can only be described as the best months of my life. Both Maria and I knew we were merely in a trial period to see if we would work out. We didn’t have the luxury of merely dating and carrying on with our own lives like a typical couple – I left my own country and moved into her flat to see if we were compatible. She supported me and I became her housewife, and we found that not only was living with each other a complete joy, but that we couldn’t imagine living without the other. I decided to stay the full six months my visa allowed, and we let our relationship develop into something bigger than the both of us imagined. We realized pretty early on that we had something extraordinary, and we were both aware that the time was ticking on my visa, so we did what a lot of couples do when they feel their backs against the wall – we decided to tie the knot.
Luckily, England is not only a country that allows civil partnerships, but it allows same sex immigration. We filled out an application to the Home Office for a Certificate of Approval, which basically gave us permission to enter into our partnership, as I was technically not allowed to get married under a tourist visa. We in no way actually qualified for the Certificate of Approval according to the guidelines, and after reading that the scheme was to be abolished, we wrote to the Home Office to obtain our passports so that we could go on a holiday abroad before I had to return to the States. It took quite a few emails, phone calls, and faxed requests before our passports were sent back to us, but by April of 2011 we received them in the mail…and, along with it, our Certificate of Approval!
We set our wedding date for May 26th, 2011, at the Southwark Registry Office in London, UK. We had a wedding to plan and not a lot of time. However, typical of Maria and me, we prioritized – we went on our honeymoon before our wedding. I’m not sure why I didn’t realize I wouldn’t be allowed back in the country on my tourist visa, but it wasn’t something that we had thought through. My visa was due to expire in June of 2011, and the plan was to go on honeymoon in Portugal, fly back into London and get married, and then fly back to the US to apply for a settlement visa. It was going to be a stressful few months, but we were prepared for it. What we weren’t prepared for was the threat of not being able to get married – I was detained once more at the airport by an entry clearance officer, who was prepared to put me on the next flight back to America, this time because I did not hold the correct visa to enter into marriage in the UK. We had surrendered the actual Certificate of Approval to the registry office when we had given our notice, but we had all of the documentation from the Home Office that came with it, and after what seemed like hours of questioning and explaining, I was given a new six month tourist visa, and Maria was allowed to take me back to our home.
May 26th, 2011. It was simply the best day of my life. None of my family could make it, nor could any of my friends. Our wedding was so last minute that no one was prepared for it when I called with the news. It didn’t matter to me, though. I was setting out to do what I had said I would do two years before: I was marrying my best friend. The joining of our paths were blessed with love from my own family, and the attendance of hers. Our day couldn’t have been any sweeter.
Our lives as a married couple were wonderful, but they weren’t without more immigration drama. In July of 2011 I was served with papers informing me that I was to check in weekly in person with the Home Office, as an investigation had been launched and the process had been started to deport me. The charge on the documentation was ‘deception,’ which is something neither of us could figure out. Maria came with me to my first appointment, but she was made to sit in the front lobby while I was taken into a back room. The entry clearance officer explained to me that when I entered the country in December of 2010 I stated that I would be visiting for three months. He went on to say that I did not state that I planned on getting married. Therefore, he concluded, I had entered the country via deception. I was stunned. Those things were true. I DID state I was only going to be in the country for three months and I DIDN’T say Maria and I were going to get married because marriage wasn’t a word on either of our lips. I was in a state of shock and fear and requested Maria to be brought into the back room so that the charge could be explained to her. Her eyes were as big as mine as the entry clearance officer went through the explanation again. It was clear both of us felt like we’d been kicked in the stomach. I was made to surrender my passport and after looking through it, the officer was clearly troubled that I had another visa that he hadn’t known about. It took months for him to find my landing card and the notes that came with it – luckily the entry clearance officer at the airport wrote down absolutely every detail about my stay, why I was entering the country, our Certificate of Approval, and our intention to get married. After checking in with the Home Office every week for several months, never knowing if I was going to be deported, the charges of deception were dropped and once again, I was allowed to live out the remainder of my time in the UK with Maria peacefully…or as peaceful as you can get knowing that soon it would come to distances…
My second tourist visa expired in November 2011. I returned to the States on the 12th of November with a thick packet of prepared documents for my settlement visa application, as I was not allowed to apply for the visa to live with Maria from within the UK (this was because I entered into our civil partnership on a tourist visa). I sent my documents, along with my application, in to the British Embassy in New York. I was scared that my application would be rejected due to prior criminal convictions for offences that had occurred years before, but everything had gone our way despite the odds, so I was strangely optimistic that I would be returning home to my wife in a month. I commenced to visit family in three different states to catch up on what I had missed during the year I was away, and to say my goodbyes. Maria joined me for three and a half weeks during the Christmas holiday, and it was at this time that she finally got to meet all of my family. They instantly loved her and could see the love we had for each other, so their fears and sadness over seeing me leave the country turned into well wishes for us, and prayers for my speedy return.
The day before Maria was set to head back to London I was notified by my immigration solicitor that my application had been denied. The feeling that accompanied my rejection is indescribable – we were filled with fear and uncertainty, as well as a gut wrenching sadness. We had no idea what lay in the path ahead of us; there was no way to properly set our expectations for what would happen next, when we would be able to see each other again, and when I would be coming home. For me, there was fear over practical matters like where I was going to live – I had no housing established for myself, nor a job to supply an income. I was in an uproar over what I was going to do, and putting Maria on a plane the next day was one of the worst experiences I had ever had. Before, we had dealt with every immigration stress together, but as she went through the security gates of the airport we both knew that we were going to have to learn to rely on each other in very different ways.
It is now August 22nd, 2012. I have now been living in America without my wife, Maria, for more than nine months. That seems like a long time when I say it to myself, and it certainly feels like a long time – she and I have both grown and changed in small ways, and in big ways, too – but compared to many others, nine months is nothing. Maria and I were prepared to fight our refusal for as long and as hard as we needed to. We appealed the decision made by the embassy and my case was heard by a tribunal judge in the UK a month ago – on July 16th, to be exact. Maria was my voice – I could not attend my own hearing so not only did Maria do all of the legal work required to make a sound argument in my defense, but she argued it in front of the judge. I cannot imagine the bravery and confidence this would have taken, and my admiration of her, and my love for her fierce determination, has given me a new respect for my wife. She is always willing to fight for me, and she is always ready to do whatever is needed to bring me home. If not for her, I do not think we would have made it through this time. She is my determination and my hope when I have none for myself, she is my reminder of a life better than I can dream up on my own, she is my heart, my voice, and my smile when I feel empty.
We received our response from the tribunal judge on the 27th of July. In the response, the judge addressed my side of the argument, and the entry clearance officer’s side. I was surprised and overwhelmed to read how the judge tore the Embassy’s argument to shreds, saying that our case should never have gone to court because compassionate circumstances should have been taken into account on my behalf. Not only that, but the judge supported our argument of why I must move to the UK as opposed to Maria moving to the US (in my rejection letter the entry clearance officer stated ‘I am…aware that there is nothing in UK law or US law which prohibits your spouse from traveling to the USA and enjoying family life with you in that country.’ Our rebuttal to that statement was to quote DOMA [the Defense of Marriage Act, which defines marriage to be between a man and a woman], and to provide proof that immigration for same sex marriages isn’t federally recognized). The judge not only ruled in our favour and has granted me my visa, she also ruled that Maria and I get a refund on the costs for our appeal. That doesn’t give us the last eight months of our lives back, but it does give us validation that we have fought the good fight.
The Home Office have 28 days to appeal the decision made by the judge, but it is highly unlikely that they will. We are still in limbo, but the uncertainty is not nearly as bad now that we know it is only a matter of time before I come home. We are now waiting for the embassy to contact me requesting my passport – once my visa is in there and it is sent back to me I’ll be on a plane home, and we can resume our lives and try to build our future together.
We’ve learned a lot about ourselves and about each other during this time of stress and strain. We’ve fought more apart more than we’ve ever argued together, but we’ve also learned how to love in different ways, and how to appreciate the other for who she is rather than who we want her to be. Our love grows stronger with the days, and though I am still stuck in America for an indefinite amount of time, and we are still unsure of when we will see each other again, we know that it is only a matter of time before I come home and our paths merge together again, this time, we hope, for forever. If there is anything worth fighting for it is a love like this – it is the kind of love one only finds once in a lifetime, and for many it never comes at all. For all of the fear, pain, and uncertainty we’ve had in our lives, we’ve had an equal amount of love, support, and hope. We do not know what the future holds for us, but one thing is for sure – together the future is incredibly brighter.
Written by Jess and Maria
This story is also located at: http://mattcarey.co.uk/maria_jess/
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Posted on November 30, 2011. Filed under: Resources | Tags: gay, immigration, lesbian, LGBT, questions, US |
Most Common Questions
http://www.immigrationequality.org/issues/immigration-basics/most-common-questions/
Everyday Immigration Equality answers immigration questions from the thousands of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender immigrants and their families. We also provide support for immigration attorneys throughout the United States. Below are some of the most frequently asked questions. Please read through these first, and if you don’t see the answer, then email Immigration Equality.
This site has a wealth of information for those needing information related to LGBT Immigration.
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Posted on July 22, 2011. Filed under: Stories - from other sites | Tags: bi-national, Britian, immigration, lesbian, US |
Written By Miranda Leitsinger
For some gay couples, fight goes on to marry — and
stay in the US – For binational gay couples, New
York’s same-sex marriage law doesn’t help
While many gay couples in New York tie the knot on Sunday, when same-sex marriage becomes legal in the state, Ashley Abraham-Hughes and her wife, Corinne, will be watching the festivities from the other side of the Atlantic.
That’s because since U.S. federal law still does not recognize same-sex marriage, and since Corinne is British, the couple was forced to move to Britain, where their union — they wed in Connecticut in 2009 — is legal.
“While I do still love the U.S. and I always will, I am very resentful of the fact that I was effectively forced to become an expat,” said Abraham-Hughes, a 27-year-old who grew up in Pittsford in western New York and now lives in Manchester. “It’s absolutely ridiculous, and I just think the thinking on this whole issue is completely wrong.”
The couple’s plight is one likely facing many of the estimated 36,000 binational gay couples in the U.S., where the foreign partner in the relationship can face deportation and a 10-year ban from returning to America if they don’t already have or find a legal way to stay in the country.
The Defense of Marriage Act, or DOMA, enacted by Congress in 1996, blocks federal recognition of same-sex marriage, thereby denying various benefits given to heterosexual couples — such as the right to immigrate. Thirty-seven states have defense of marriage acts, while six states and the District of Columbia allow same-sex marriage, according to the National Conference of
State Legislatures.
(California has also ruled in favor of same-sex marriage, but the state currently does not allow them to be performed because Proposition 8, which defined marriage as being between a man and a woman, was passed six months after the initial ruling. A judge then ruled the Proposition 8 amendment as being unconstitutional, and that ruling is now under appeal.)
“There are little more than 100,000 same-sex couples who are lawfully married in the United States. As to the federal government, they are complete strangers to each other,” said Lavi Soloway, a lawyer who has worked in this area since 1993 and is a cofounder of Immigration Equality.
So for couples in which one partner is not American, state-level approvals of same-sex marriage do little to change their mmigration status. Some of those who have overstayed their visas have been deported, though in recent months a number of couples have won reprieves from judges who have indicated they are waiting to see how the law regarding these kinds of cases may evolve, Soloway said.
“It (DOMA) was a pre-emptive rollback of civil rights that is unique in our history,” he said. “In the case of immigration, it has its cruelest manifestation because it means that somebody’s husband or wife is going to be deported only because they are gay.”
Calls to the Justice Department seeking comment on the DOMA same-sex marriage cases were not immediately returned. An official of the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services said the agency would continue to enforce the existing law.
But in a significant shift, President Barack Obama — who supports repealing DOMA — has given his backing to the proposed Respect for Marriage Act, White House spokesman Jay Carney said Wednesday.
“I can tell you that the president has long called for a legislative repeal of the so-called Defense of Marriage Act, which continues to have a real impact on the lives of real people — our families, friends and neighbors,” Carney said. “He is proud to support the Respect for Marriage Act … which would take DOMA off the books once and for all. This legislation would uphold the principle that the federal government should not deny gay and lesbian couples the same rights and legal protections as straight couples.”
But in the current legal reality, some same-sex binational couples are going into exile, plunking down a lot of money to remain in the U.S. or fighting deportation.
This story is located at: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/43848013/ns/us_news-life/#
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Posted on June 13, 2011. Filed under: Stories - from other sites | Tags: Germany, immigration, lesbian, LGBT, US |
I want to start by saying this is probably one of the worst and best times in my life.
Last time I told you we were trying to figure out what to do to renew
Fabienne’s visa so she can stay longer. We decided to take another road-trip to
Canada. This time to Cranbrook. I asked Fabienne when was the day her visa
expired. She told me the date without looking at her passport. I asked her
again, Are you sure? and she said yes. So we plan the trip for a day before her
visa expired. We put our things in the car, and Dude’s (my dog) and left. It
was a beautiful day and we were having fun driving. For some weird reason I was
very confident that everything was going to be ok like the last time.
We were at the Canadian border. They asked us for our passports. We waited
anxiously in the car. The officer comes back and says: we can’t let you go to
Canada because her visa is one day late and we are not sure if the USA will let
her go back. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I told them we thought her
visa expired the day after. They told us to park the car and to come inside. So
we go inside and she showed us the date in the visa and yes, we were late for a
few hours. I looked at Fabienne. I proceeded to try to persuade the Canadian
border officer to let us go in Canada, I knew if we were sent to USA part there
might be trouble. But she said: I can’t let you go in Canada, you need to go
back to the USA and talk to the border officer and make sure the paperwork is
correct then you can come back. So we get in the car. I looked at Fabienne and
asked her: why you told me that we were one day early? she said she got
confused by the date since they read dates differently than in the USA. I told
her that was a big mistake and that I wish I would have looked at her visa. I
also told her, don’t worry they probably just let us go because we are late
just for hours. Inside of me I knew we were screwed but I was trying to calm
her down cause I know she gets really nervous. Her fate was in hands of the
Border Patrol officer. I was hoping we would get a good one but that was not
the case.
So we are now in the line for the US border. They asked us for our passports
and the reason why we were there. I told them that the Canadian side sent us
back to make sure she can come back to the USA. They noticed her visa was late.
The officer asked us to wait that he needed to talk to someone about it. He
came back and said: please park your car and come inside. Then the interrogation
began. I have never seen Fabienne so nervous. They asked her all kinds of
questions. Why was she trying to go to Canada? Why she was in the USA? Where
was staying at? What is her relationship with me? How is she supporting
herself? Was she trying to go to Canada to renew her US visa? Does she have a
plane ticket back to Germany? etc… They asked me a few questions as well.
There were three officers. 2 of them were not so hardcore but there was one
just trying to get any possible reason to deport Fabienne. First I thought it
was completely unfair that they did not provide her with a translator. They
were asking her all these technical questions that she had no idea what it
meant. Then they took her to a separate room and asked me to wait outside. I
knew this was bad. They asked me to search my car. I told them my dog is inside
and they said just bring your dog with you. So I did. They searched everything
and then left a huge mess for me to put back together. Fabienne was still
inside and I had no access to her. Hours passed and passed and passed. almost 5
or 6 hours later an officer came outside and told me that she could not prove
she had plane tickets to go back to Germany and that she was going to get
deported. I started crying like a little girl. I could not belive this was
happening. This was the worst that could happen…and it was happening. They
told me all kinds of lies. They said the same thing happened to another German
person a few weeks ago and he was back in the USA. They told me not to worry
but they had to do this and that she was going to be able to come back. I have
never had any kind of experience with this kind of situation. I had no idea
what to do.
Finally around 8 or 9 hours later they said I could see her before they will transfer
her to a jail. I asked why they are taking her to a jail. She is not a criminal
i said. They told me that was procedure and they did not have special place for
people getting deported. I started crying even more. They told me to wait
outside until they bring her out. He also told me that she was going to be
wearing handcuffs and leg cuffs while in the cop car as procedure but that they
knew she was not a criminal. I was in shock. I could not believe they were
doing this to her. They told me I could say goodbye to her and that I could
visit her in the jail which was going to be in Kalispell. I asked them how long
were they going to keep her in jail. They said that just a few days until they
get the plane tickets and all the procedure done. So they bring her outside and
let her smoke a cigarette with me while we say goodbye. I told her I would go
visit her and do everything I can to help her. She was very scared. We were
both crying. In fact i am crying right now just remembering this horrible time
in our life. I could not believe my country was doing this to her. I found out
how unfair and broken our immigration system is the hard way and so did she.
Please take a look for the rest of our story on my blog, Bi-cultural love and
immigration laws on Squidoo. (photo; personal; Waleska and Fabienne;
“Fabienne and me in Germany”)
This story is
located at: http://imeq.us/our_stories/stories.html
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