Can’t Stay. Can’t Go. Refused asylum seekers who cannot be returned   25 desperation, do something that she wouldn’t normally want to do. (Red Cross staff member, Glasgow 2) Three of our refused asylum seekers reported that, although they feel safe in the UK, feeling safe does not equate to feeling free. Fiyori (Eritrea) told us that she came to the UK to feel safe. She claimed asylum partly on religious grounds since her religion is banned in Eritrea: Here I am free to practice my religion freely. In that way it is good for me, but I am not really free. I want to live properly here. (Fiyori, Eritrea) Anwar (Somalia) commented: When you come to this country you say, “Okay, I’m safe now”…. Here, you are safe – no one hit you, but you are not free. (Anwar, Somalia) Enaya (Palestine) reported that feeling safe in the UK does not equate to feeling your future is secure: It feels confused living here. It is safe, but the future is unknown. If something bad happens to me, who does my daughter stay with? (Enaya, Palestine) 3.10 A life in limbo A number of our participants spoke of how difficult it is to live life in limbo. Enaya (Palestine) was offered a place at university to study law, but could not take it up because she cannot pay for her studies. This has left her feeling trapped: They said you are an asylum seeker; you cannot study more. For university I would be classified as an overseas student – £11,000 a year and I cannot get any finance. I want to study. I don’t want life to just stop here. It’s not life! I feel like I am in a prison and there is nothing I can do. (Enaya, Palestine) Anwar (Somalia) also feels trapped and wants to go back to Somalia: I’m here, but really seriously, I’m not happy here. It’s better where I was [in Somalia], yeah, for me. Even now, if I can get any way to go back, I’m happy. Really; seriously. Because here it’s like, it’s like me I’m a slave…. They don’t force me to do something. They don’t say, “Come to do these things for us” and force me. No. But the way they treat me, it’s like I’m a slave. And it’s true. It’s not like I’m a slave; I am a slave. Me, I can’t go anywhere if I want to go anywhere. I can’t go anywhere. Imagine. It’s like I’m a cow with a rope around my neck; you don’t get to run anywhere. It’s like that. It’s not freedom. When you want to go somewhere, you have to go open the gates and be led on the rope. (Anwar, Somalia) Anwar feels like his life is going backwards and he can’t even think about tomorrow: My life is going wrong. My life is going like this [makes motion with his hands to signify rolling backwards]; it’s not like this [makes motion with his hands to signify rolling forwards]. You know what I mean? It’s rotated back… I don’t have any plan, I don’t think about tomorrow, what I’m going to do about tomorrow…. You [the interviewer], when you finish here, you say, “I’m finished here, I’m finishing my work, I’m going to take a shower, I’m going to town to meet my friend”. For me, it’s not like that. When I leave here, I’m going to stay inside the house. (Anwar, Somalia) Samir (Algeria), on the other hand, feels like his life is passing by too quickly and he has little control over the direction it is taking: Yes, sometimes people here are saying “why can’t he sort his life?”. How? How I’m going to sort my life? I’m not working. I’ve got no benefit, nothing. How am I going to sort my life? I am not young. Life is going very quick. I came into this country, I was 31 years. Now I am 36. Yes, it’s five years now here in England. I am in between, in between. (Samir, Algeria) In Faheem’s case, the Palestinian mission has no record of him, so he is left in limbo: I’m homeless. I don’t have a country. I can’t go back there [Palestine]. I can’t stay here. I don’t have a country…. I don’t know what to call myself. Am I British? I’ve been here ten years. I don’t cause problems. (Faheem, Palestine)