Isa
From Sudan to Liverpool
“When I was around ten my father and I escaped from Darfur when the conflict was intense and we went to Uganda. In Uganda my father was a truck driver and one time I went with him on a trip to northern Uganda and I was abducted. That’s the last time I saw my father.
“I was with the rebels for six months. At just 14 I was made to kill people and loot and burn villages until I managed to escape.
“Then Ugandan soldiers caught me when I was running away. When I explained my situation, they took me in. But they forced me to go back and fight with the rebels to show them where they were. I insisted I couldn’t because they would kill me so they said as I had been in Uganda illegally, they would send me back to Sudan. I was 15 then.
“When I went back to Sudan the Janjaweed were writing our names down. I said that I had been abducted by the rebels, but they didn’t believe me. They tortured me, making me drink urine. I got raped and beaten. I kept on insisting that I wasn’t a rebel and in the end they sent me to prison but on the way there I managed to escape. I was bleeding so much I couldn’t walk, so I hid myself for two days, eating bush weeds.
“Starving hungry, I started waving at cars to take me to Darfur when a man stopped. I asked him for a lift and he turned out to be a priest. We were going to go to Darfur but he was worried for my safety, so he took me to another town where I was undercover for about seven months with about 100 other youngsters.
“One time the priest brought this man and told us, “This man will take you somewhere safe.” He took pictures – I didn’t know who he was.
“He brought me to England but I never knew where I was at the time. At the airport he said, “Don’t talk to anyone, put your eyes down, this is serious now.” I don’t know which airport it was. I just did what he said.
“We had landed in the night and very early in the morning, we got in the car and went to Staffordshire police station. He gave me a piece of paper and told me to ask them to help me and left me there. I showed the police the paper but they just gave me the details for the Liverpool Home Office and sent me away.
“I walked and walked and came to a train station where I showed the paper to a man who I spoke to in very basic English. Once I showed him the paper he realised what I wanted. He let me stay at his house for the night, and gave me £20 in morning and told me to go by train to Liverpool.
“I now live in Liverpool. I go to college and I really want to go into medicine, something I’ve wanted since I was young. There is only one way out – if I have an opportunity to study. That’s the best chance anyone can give you.
“I’ve made most of my friends through a youth project and a lot through playing football and a DJ course. I’ve also got the guy at Refugee Action - he has been there for me, trust me. He is linking me up to Medical Foundation for the Care for Victims of Torture and the doctor as I still have a problem with my bowels from the sexual assault and other stuff going on in my head.
“I am on discretionary leave to remain until I am 18. They say I have no foundation to my claim because no-one’s looking for me. But if I don’t get refugee status, there is no point living. What’s the point in living? At the end of the day it’s the same thing – I’m going to be killed back home. That’s why I’m seeing a psychiatrist and am on anti-depressants. All the trauma’s coming back.
“One time, this boy was running away and they called me to cut his ears and his nose off and when I refused they sprained my leg and cut me. So I had to do it because if I didn’t I would be killed.
“This boy comes to me every night, he’s there bleeding…”
Please don’t reproduce this story in any other format without prior permission. Some names have been changed.
