6 | PROTECTING STATELESS PERSONS FROM ARBITRARY DETENTION IN THE NETHERLANDS ANGELA AND CHRISTINA’S STORY Both Angela and her younger sister Christina were born in Azerbaijan; 26 and 24 years ago. They fled their home country following ethnic conflict between people of Azeri and Armenian heritage, arriving with their parents in the Netherlands on 4 April 2002 – 13 and 11 years old at the time. In early 2004 their claim to asylum was rejected, and for years the family moved from one crisis shelter to another. Countless efforts to obtain new travel documents were made, but Azerbaijan refuses to cooperate. As even voluntary return to their home country proved impossible, immigration authorities then concluded that the family should 'return' to Armenia instead. “Going back to Azerbaijan we accepted, but not Armenia!” Angela recalls indignantly. “You can't sent a Dutchman to Belgium just because he understands Flemish. Send us to our country of origin, not to the neighbours”. It turned out to be a moot point, as Armenia also refused its cooperation in providing the necessary paperwork. Time passes. By repeatedly re-applying for asylum the family retains their right to shelter most of the time. The Departure & Returns Service (DT&V) never manages to effectuate their expulsion. The father continues to visit the Armenian embassy. The consul reacts angrily when he sees him for the umpteenth time. The father pleads with him and asks if his family may travel to Armenia after all, despite never having lived there. The consul simply says: "you can visit us a thousand times, without Armenian documents this will never work". Then, in September 2012, the family receives a message calling them to travel to Zevenaar, in the east of the Netherlands, and to bring their luggage. "My mother already had a sense of foreboding", Angela recalls. "Dad was as pale as the wall when the aliens’ police ordered our detention”, Christina remembers. "It's like we were criminals, we weren't allowed to speak." Angela was exempted, as she still happened to have a pending procedure that prohibited her detention. Still, the officials told her, “you might as well come along – it's 99% certain we'll detain you anyway”. "I'll never forget that, it was merciless", Christina says, crying as she relates the story. Without Angela, the rest of the family was first transferred to a regular police cell in Almelo, where they were stripped of their clothes, inspected and placed in separate cells for the night. "My mom fainted", Christina tells. "I didn't understand what was happening, but the assistant public prosecutor told us that we hadn't cooperated. I told him we did and that we had evidence of this, but he only said we could show this in the detention centre”. The family was transferred to Rotterdam. A cavity search was performed and the mother fainted once again. This time they were placed in a shared cell. The family attended their hearing over Skype, from the detention centre. They had dreaded the moment, as many other of the people in custody had spent four, six or eight months there already. However, two days after the hearing they were released, and compensation was paid. In total they spent 'only' two weeks locked up, but the damage was done. "We grew up much too quickly, that's for sure”, Christina says. “I've stopped thinking about the future. Now I just live from day to day". Angela plans to travel the world, if this mess ever gets resolved. For the moment though, "the documents I do have tell me I’m of 'unknown nationality'. Officially I still don't exist."