“I felt like I was going to die,” says Zoran. “It was as if I had never experienced anything before.” He says he begged the security guards not to force him on board. In the sound of a phone call he managed to make to a friend, Zoran is heard screaming in pain. He says others were shouting. “Officers told me that if you tried to escape or leave, your situation would get worse,” said Zoran, who arrived in Britain by boat 40 days ago after escaping political persecution. “I told them I did not want to go there, but I had a belt in my stomach and I was handcuffed. “If I return to Iran, the government will kill me.” The grounding of the aircraft was the end of days of political and legal drama, orders following orders issued to 37 asylum seekers meaning they would not participate in the flight to East Africa as part of the prime minister’s plan to prevent migrants from crossing the English Channel. arrive in the United Kingdom. But for the men scheduled to fly from Boscombe Down near Salisbury, it was the culmination of a day of uncertainty, trauma and terror – and only a brief moment of rest before ministers again threatened with deportation to Rwanda.
“What crime have I committed to be treated like this?”
It was around 2.30pm on Tuesday when police knocked on the door of Mohammed’s cell at the Kolbrook evacuation center near Heathrow and told him he had been taken to Rwanda – a moment he hoped would never come. “They used their mobile phones to translate,” says the Iranian Kurd. “They asked me, ‘Do you need a leash?’ I wrote, “No, I want to live among you, why should I try to hurt you?” “It simply came to our notice then. “I never saw anyone else until I was really on the plane.” The 45-year-old arrived in Britain last month after escaping religious persecution, but remains concerned about the safety of his wife and daughters, who remain in Iran. Shortly before the knock on his cell, he spoke to his wife. “It was like saying goodbye for the last time. “It was very painful,” he said. Mohammed was taken out of the evacuation center and into an escort truck, where he said he was joined by five officers – two at the front and three with him in the back of the vehicle. “It felt like I was being executed,” he said of the 90-minute trip to the military aircraft test site. Upon arrival, he says he was kept in the van for hours, a camera records his every move. “I was just sitting in there,” he says. “I was not even allowed to get some fresh air unless I wanted to go to the toilet. “I was really confused. I was thinking, “What crime have I committed to be treated like this?” It was very humiliating. “
“I finally felt safe”
While Mohammed was sitting in a truck waiting for his fate, so did other men. Taha, 36, says he was so scared when police arrived at the detention center that he fainted. “I could not breathe so they had to take me from the detention center on a stretcher,” he says. “I also could not do anything because they used handcuffs.” The father of four, who landed off the coast of Britain on May 17 after fleeing Iraqi Kurdistan, says he was given the news that he should not take the flight just before 10 p.m. “I beg the UK government to take me out of this detention center because I feel awful,” he said from his cell. “I would rather die than be taken to Rwanda.” Rasul, a 25-year-old Kurdish Kurd in Iraq, said he felt suicidal when security forces arrived at the airport around 5pm. “You can not compare it to death, death is better. “I never thought this would happen to me, that I would be taken to another country so far away from everything I know,” he recalls. “I finally felt safe when I arrived in the United Kingdom on May 23, I knew it was a democracy and now I know this is a lie.” He says he initially refused to leave the detention center and go to the airport, but was handled by security forces. “They said they would take me by force if I did not come. Three police officers then attacked me, pulling my arms and neck. I was told that if I made a move or tried to escape, they would hold me, tie me up. “It reminded me of traffickers.” The Home Office says that physical violence and restraint should only be used after a risk assessment and that it is reviewing all uses of force to ensure that they are appropriate and justified, adding: ensure the safety of the returnees the removal process “. At around 7.30pm, Rasul received a phone call from his lawyer telling him that he had received an order and his ticket had been canceled, but the police did not believe him and so he had to sit for several hours waiting. “At around 9.45pm – at the last minute when we were about to board the plane – one of them came up to me and said my flight had been canceled. “I could not believe it,” he says.
“I did not want to look back”
Shortly before, around 9.20pm, Mohamed was the first asylum seeker to be flown on a plane. As he approached the aircraft, escort officers surrounded him. one on both sides and one at the back. He was among many other guards involved in the operation. He says: “There were so many other people. They wore yellow phosphorescent vests. I felt like a spectator watching. “I did not want to look back, but I heard other people resisting and screaming. I could hear a person say, “My hand hurts! Let me!’” As soon as all the deportees boarded, along with dozens of escort and security personnel, they waited for about 40 minutes, with the engine flashing, according to Mohamed. “There was a guard on each side of the plane. The rows behind and in front of me were empty. “I could not speak to any of the others,” he said. “Two others in the plan were still very upset. I knew one of them. “At that point I could do nothing for them but pray and pray that they would be strong and calm.” Just before 10 pm the fatal moment came: a member of the flight crew announced that he would not take off. “Some of the security guards and others were really happy. They hugged us. “They congratulated us,” said Mohammed. “It was clear that they were just trying to obey orders. “It was not something they were comfortable with.” He describes a mixture of emotions that permeated him as he got off the plane: “I felt happy and relieved. I was also unsure of what the future held. Priti Patel addresses the Public on Wednesday (via Reuters) “We could not share our feelings. We each felt it alone. “I would really like to hug others, but I could not.” Forcing people on the flight was tantamount to “pure torture,” according to Karen Doyle of the Justice Movement, which has contacted some of the asylum seekers. He says: “This is a cycle of trauma over trauma for already injured people who have risked everything, who have struggled through many obstacles and barriers to reach the United Kingdom.” Within hours of the failed deportation attempt, Pretty Patel promised to move on with the controversial plan. “We believe that we are fully complying with our domestic and international obligations and preparations for our future and next flights have already begun,” he told lawmakers on Wednesday. “This policy is very self-centered,” Mohammed said. We were the guinea pigs, but fortunately it did not go ahead. “I can not say that I’m not worried about being sent to Rwanda yet, but I hope the support we receive means that it will not happen.” Names have been changed to protect identities Additional report by Barzan Jaber
