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What my crowded house taught me about immigration: UK's asylum appeals backlog

I have sympathy with people on both sides of the immigration debate, writes Krish Kandiah

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I have sympathy with people on both sides of the immigration debate, writes Krish Kandiah
I have sympathy with people on both sides of the immigration debate, writes Krish Kandiah. Picture: Alamy

By Krish Kandiah

New figures show the UK’s asylum appeals backlog has almost doubled in a year.

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It’s clear that our current system is under unsustainable strain. At the same time, in my own home, I see the challenges and rewards of welcoming people into a space that already feels full.

There are a lot of people who live in my home. Some are biologically related to me, some are friends, and some were once strangers who, over time, became family. Our house, like our country, is welcoming to those who need a home, but it is also full.

This is why I have sympathy with people on both sides of the immigration debate. I know what it is like to feel at capacity, and I know the privilege of welcoming strangers into my home. Therefore, when it comes to immigration, I argue for both sanctuary and security.

It doesn’t have to be a binary choice between being "tough" - wanting closed borders, and being "soft" - wanting open borders. Very few of us treat our front doors that way.

Most of us want to be welcoming, hospitable, helpful, and friendly – good neighbours to those in need. But we also want security: to know who is in our home, who has keys, and who is eating from the fridge. Immigration policy should serve the same purpose: the United Kingdom is our home, and we should feel safe here, but a good home is also a place we invite people into.

When Russia illegally invaded Ukraine in 2022, we, as a nation and as households, invited, welcomed, and hosted around 200,000 Ukrainians fleeing for safety. They were not housed at a distance but welcomed into our spare rooms and the rhythms of everyday life. What began as arrangements between sponsors and strangers often grew, with time and trust, into relationships marked by care, familiarity, and, in many cases, a sense of family.

This model of community sponsorship is the gold standard worldwide. It is planned, coordinated, and monitored; it exists in homes and communities with the capacity to welcome; and it enables refugees to rebuild their lives with dignity, hope, and support.

Much of current policy-making is not like that.

The Home Secretary’s proposed immigration reforms, notably the 30-month limit on the right to remain, makes it impossible for refugees to feel settled, restricts opportunities for meaningful employment, hampers children’s education, and makes either building a life here or returning to their home country unreasonably difficult.

Similarly, the blanket ban on student visas from Afghanistan risks further oppressing young women denied education by the Taliban.

But the Named Community Sponsorship Scheme offers a ray of hope in its offering of a way to do things differently. It allows communities to decide who and when they can help. It enables individuals, families, and neighbourhoods to step up and make a tangible difference. It recognises that we cannot help everyone, but facilitates helping some.

Other countries have found that community sponsorship schemes work not just for refugees but for the wider population. By creating safe, viable alternatives to dangerous journeys, we reduce demand and disrupt the exploitative criminal gangs profiting from desperation. Communities are empowered, more inclusive, and incidents of racism and violence are minimised.

Much frustration in local communities comes from the large numbers of refugees being housed in nearby hotels or accommodation sites without consultation. Named community sponsorship counters that. It empowers local people – churches, charities, and neighbourhoods – to decide who they welcome and how they include them. Refugees only come when local people say yes. Trust is built between government and communities.

Embedding Named Community Sponsorship into our asylum system could revolutionise the immigration debate. It draws on deep-seated British values of hospitality, seen in the Kindertransport, wartime evacuations, and the modern-day support for Ukrainians. It brings people together – government and communities, locals and refugees, those calling for compassion and those calling for control. Sanctuary and security – the best of both worlds.

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Krish Kandiah is the founder of the Sanctuary Foundation.

LBC Opinion provides a platform for diverse opinions on current affairs and matters of public interest.

The views expressed are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official LBC position.

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