Asylum Monologues

This evening I went to a the Young Vic! After a drink, popcorn and some light-hearted story telling...we went to hear some story telling of a rather more somber nature.

The Asylum Monologues is the performance of personal testimonies of Asylum seekers in the UK - told by actors. The four stories came from Zimbabwe, Jamaica, Rwanda and Uganda. The actors were british - three of them caucasion.

and the stories......

Normal people whose lives had been brutally disrupted by war, injustice, killing and threat....escape to the UK and then tales of detention, homelessness, vicious and uncalled for violence from british police, delays, mental torture, humiliation and finally, forced deportation.

At the end, one of the subjects of one of the stories came to the front - but I can't remember what she said because I was thinking of her story - the one I had just heard. The harrowing one I had just heard.

At the end - my neighbour turned to me and said....I knew we were s*** I just hadn't realised the extent of our s***ty-ness.

A good summery!

But you know what disturbed me most - it was the voices in my head both throughout and as a reflected on the way home. The voices I have heard and read so often over the past months. The voices legitimising the exclusion of asylum seekers from within our borders....the prejuciced paper headlines....the silent disapproving looks from my grandparents generation.....'stealing our jobs...housing....school places.....'

The voices I had never realised had been allowed to get so loud.

Apparently during a period of the 1800's, more than 9 million emmigrants left great britain seeking a better life in the 'new world'. At that time I would estimate that this was more than a fifth of the population.

We don't hear much about that do we?