In August 2015, a little over two years before she was detained, Paulette Wilson had received an extremely worrying letter. ‘That was the day my world changed,’ she told me later, an unmistakable Midlands lilt in her voice. On a sheet of paper decorated with the Home Office logo and headed with the words ‘Notice of Immigration Decision’, the letter stated: ‘Paulette Wilson. You are a person with no leave to enter or remain in the United Kingdom.’
Paulette was alone at her flat in Wolverhampton when she opened it; she skimmed through the document, which was written in clunky and perplexing officialese, to try to understand why she had been sent such a distressing notification. ‘You are specifically considered to be a person who has failed to provide evidence of lawful entry to the United Kingdom,’ it announced. ‘Therefore you are liable for removal.’ This was followed by a warning in alarming capitals: ‘LIABILITY FOR REMOVAL’. ‘If you do not leave the United Kingdom as required you will be liable to enforced removal to Jamaica.’
‘Removal’ is the gentler official term for deportation, a word which is technically used only when a criminal is being sent out of the country; but beyond Home Office employees, few people understand the distinction, and most view a forced expulsion from the country, often with handcuffs used, as deportation, regardless of whether this is the correct terminology.
The document upset Paulette profoundly, shaking her sense of who she was. After a lifetime in England, she had always assumed she was British and had never had any reason to question her identity. This sudden official challenge to her status was as horrific as it was surprising. ‘It made me feel like I didn’t exist.’ Uncertain how to respond to the letter, she stuffed it in a drawer so she wouldn’t have to look at it, hiding it alongside another mystifying notification she had received the week before from the Department for Work and Pensions which stated that she was no longer entitled to any financial support because her immigration status was unclear. She mentioned the letters to no one. ‘I was panicking. I was too scared to tell my daughter. I didn’t know why they wanted to get rid of me.’
In the days that followed, Paulette’s thirty-nine-year-old daughter Natalie noticed that her mother was behaving extremely oddly. Normally very bubbly and cheerful, Paulette had withdrawn into herself. It was a while before Paulette steeled herself to show Natalie the Home Office letter. Natalie was as confused as her mother had been, and had to read it several times.
You have no lawful basis to remain in the UK and you should leave as soon as possible. By remaining here without lawful basis you may be prosecuted for an offence under the Immigration Act 1971, the penalty for which is a fine and/or up to 6 months imprisonment. You are also liable to be removed from the UK. If you do not leave voluntarily and removal action is required you may face a reentry ban of up to 10 years. If you decide to stay then your life in the UK will become increasingly more difficult.
A list followed explaining that anyone who employed Paulette would face a £20,000 fine, that her landlord would be fined for failing to spot her irregular immigration status, and that she could be charged for NHS treatment.
Natalie knew that her mother had arrived in England as a child and had never left the country, but her first
