Delroy Edwards fled to Britain to seek asylum after being shot several times and seeing his two young daughters murdered. His asylum claim was refused. He was killed just 9 days after being deported back to Jamaica.
There is independant evidence of deported failed asylum seekers who are returned to the Congo being targeted by the police - further details will be portrayed in a BBC world service feature.

At the same time, my own MP speaks of failed asylum seekers as abusing the system in order to economically better themselves. He obviously doesn't know what he's talking about, or he doesn't want to know for the sake of his own economic betterment, ie rising up the ranks of loyal Blairites and becoming a minister or something like that.

The protocol for the removal of failed asylum seeking families in Scotland has been rejected by the Home Office. Reason: no special cookies for Scotland. Another blow in the face.

What keeps me going are events such as the powerful writers who read for Amnesty International last Thursday. Sometimes literature is strong enough to help. It really achieves to turn frustration and the effects of banging your head against the brick walls of politicians into further action and renewed impetus. Tom Leonard was defiant, passionate and really stirred you up, while Ayad Alhaiatly, Palestinian refugee, who grew up in a refugee camp and because of this also failed his UK asylum claim ("you already are a refugee in another country, therefore you can't be one here" was the verdict) gave a glimpse of what it means to be exiled and a refugee, to be exiled from home, language, culture and yourself. Anne Donovan brought things back home, with her human Scots voice and the asbestosis scandal in Glasgow, where the council tried anything to avoid compensating the families of those who died of asbestosis. Bernard McLaverty screened Bye Child, a grim short film based on a Seamus Heaney poem, which again is based on a real incident, about an iligitimate and incestuous child put into a shed and out of sight. All was held together by Chris Dolan and some of his stories and poems. All writers did it for free, and the evening was a great success indeed, hopefully invigorating all of us to keep going and never to give up until this world will have a friendlier face.

What keeps me going too are occasional nights or even weekends where I switch off and don't do politics. I had a good weekend, and hopefully with a fresh and clear mind I can summon the energy to challenge those in power big time.

The last two days have been eventful and I'll write up something about them separately. For now, there are five key issues in relation to asylum in the UK and we should not rest before these have been addressed:

1. Work
Asylum Seekers aren't allowed to work while their claim is being considered. This forces them into the benefits system, creates a negative public image ("they are here for the benefits only"), makes them lose professional skills, makes them dependent and disempowered. It also wastes much needed skills which otherwise could benefit the UK economy.
Demand: Asylum Seekers should be allowed to work.

2. Destitution
If an asylum claim has come to an end and has been refused, all benefits are stopped. If the failed asylum seekers agrees to voluntary return, they will receive benefits until they are removed. If they do not agree to voluntary return or are in process of filing a new claim, they have no right to support, even if returns to their country are suspended for safety/infrastructure reasons. Many asylum seekers fear for their lives if they are returned and will not for anything sign the paper that they will agree to voluntary return, even if in practice it is impossible to return them. They rather lose their benefits and housing and become destitute.
Demand: Nobody should be made destitute and everyone in the country should have a right to basic support to keep them adequately housed and fed. These are basic human rights that no government should take from any one in their care.

3. Detention
Failed asylum seekers who are about to be deported and immigrants who have committed an offence (mostly not criminal) may be detained. Detention is arbitrary and doesn't just take place immediately prior to removal. In fact, many asylum seekers are detained for months. Many detainees are vulnerable people, such as children, people with mental health problems, even people with severe depression. There is no protocoll, monitoring system or review of practice in place.
Demand: Detention must be a last resort and should not be applied to vulnerable people and children/families. There must be a review of practice to abolish the arbitrary nature of detention.

4. Dawn-raids (aka removals)
Removals are enforced by dawn-raids on homes of failed asylum seekers. Immigration squads appear between 4 and 6am in the morning and remove families and individuals from their home, using handcuffs, and not allowing time to pack, or phone calls to friends. This is a traumatising experience especially for children. The immigration control argument is that this is the only way they would find someone in. They never actually tried a more humane form of removal, and also forget that not announcing removal may lead to the split up of families if one member happens to have stayed at someone elses house that night.
Demand: There should not be any dawn-raids, especially if children are involved. Ever. Instead, asylum seeking families who've been in the country for a considerable time, should be given a family amnesty and receive leave to remain on humanitarian or compassionate grounds.

5. Abolition of "indefinite leave to remain"
A successful asylum application will in very rare circumstances lead to refugee status, i.e. indefinite leave to remain. Or so it used to. This has been changed as of 1 Sept 05. Now, indefinite means 5 years, and the case may be reviewed. This abolishes the one and only clear situation where a refugee was given the opportunity to make a life in the new host country. The abolition of indefinite leave to remain will be an ongoing barrier to integration and mental well being. There are no guidelines as to what will happen after the five years are over, who may be returned after this, or if there will be a renewal which may then become indefinite. Nobody knows.
It's a scandal that such a major change to asylum legislation can be made without even being presented to the legislative bodies. It was decided at committee level.
Demand: Indefinite leave to remain should be reinstated.

Out of this follows:
6. Asylum should be devolved
Yes, that's the most radical demand. It becomes ever clearer that the Home Office does its utmost to put up barriers for people to apply for asylum and receive refugee status. It starts with unrealistic demands at the outset (necessity to claim asylum at port of entry, and to file the case within 10 days and so it goes on) and continues throughout the process. The objective of current asylum legislation is to make it as hard as possible for anyone to obtain refugee status, particularly though for anyone who doesn't speak perfect English and doesn't know the system inside out. As a consequence, the most vulnerable will fail.
The Home Office makes the law and makes the decisions. Scotland isn't happy with either. Scotland is responsible for delivering services to asylum seekers and refugees, yet is denied any say in protocolls, regulations, and legislation. If asylum was devolved, Scotland would not be forced to sit by with tied hands and observe such undignified treatment of one of the most vulnerable groups in society.
(Afterthought - thing is, I think the changes should apply anywhere and not just in Scotland. Devolution of asylum is just a quick fix, in the hope that at least Scotland can do it better and doesn't depend on decisions made in England. But I no longer think it's a solution, although it helps the present campaign - by calling on devolution and making it a matter of national pride, the anti-dawnraid/dungavel/detention/deportation campaign becomes a national icon, a way of expressing Scottish identity, which will make it more powerful. I'm just concerned that it may divert from the real issue, which isn't Scottish, or English, or British. It's global, human and about dignity and justice.)

I'm not a radical by the way, and you MPs and Ministers out there who think this is radical, well, think again. It's only common sense. Think. Yes, do. Oh, and I've got a new T-Shirt, it's yellow and ecologically friendly, and against the M74. I love it.

Someone told me that Glasgow can boast the strange record for the highest dwellings in the whole of Britain, maybe Europe even. I'm not sure if that's true but my now almost weekly visit to the infamous Red Road Flats is becoming a highlight for me. Maybe it's the knowledge that within a year most of them will have been demolished, within 8 years, no trace will be left of them. It should be a duty for every tourist, architect, housing association, city planner and who ever else should have an interest to visit and pay their respect before the greatest sin in Scottish council housing has been wiped off the earth.
In fact, I like the massive cigarette boxes dumped on Springburn. Funny thing that, I find them extremely impressive, freaky, and on windy days, plainly spooky. They are on a hill, in the middle of industrial wasteland and next to terraced houses (also council houses), so they really and truly stick out. They are also very slim, as if that was taken as an excuse to build them higher. Even on windstill days, there is a breeze flying through them, creating a highrise microclimate of wind funnels that make for very bad hair days and constantly rubbished streets. No crispbag would stay in a bin if it can have a go at a ride on the wind! The play areas are a no go zone, some security issue, not sure which, but since asylum seekers were housed here since 1999, it's been a much livelier place than before. These set of high rise buildings were the heritage of Glasgow's "Ruf" as the poverty house of Britain, a dangerous city with asocial elements around every corner. In fact, things were so bad in the Red Road flats that everyone who could leave left. Glasgow was left with empty flats that nobody wanted, but that the city council had to pay for to maintain. The solution came when London called for volunteer cities to house asylum seekers so that London didn't have to take them all. Glasgow happily agreed and signed the largest dispersal contract, without much thought but that of a dwindling population, empty houses, and the money they would now get from London based National Asylum Support System, which would pay the upkeep of these flats.

Five years since dispersal, and six years since the first refugees from Kosovo/Albania (who were actually welcomed by the government and didn't need to go through the asylum process) arrived, the place has changed. It is quirky, colourful, noisy, populated. Not that anyone would choose to live there, and everyone will leave as soon as they are free to do so, but it's a relatively safe part of the city, and I much prefer the humanity to be found there to some other, more modern parts of Glasgow.

Friday I was there to visit a Kosovo Albanian couple on floor 28. There were two lifts, one broken on floor 11, the other one painstakingly slow. I had arrived at the wrong time, school was out and the entrance area was mobbed with excited it's the weekend kids, moms back from the shop, dad's chatting about the most recent developments, and general feel good atmosphere of the end of the week. Thanks to two women who took pity on us, we only had to wait for 3 lift journeys, equalling 30 minutes, before it was our turn to squash. A wee (Scottish) girl joined on floor 8 and said something about the noise, and that she knew for a fact there was a boy on top of the lift, scaring us with a few knocks. It really sounded as if, and we enjoyed the spooky scare. Next, at floor 22, a young (refugee) woman comes on, but the lift door closes and opens again, three times as if she wasn't allowed in. She jokingly said something about how spooky this was and that we may all die in the lift. Suddenly the fact that we were in a small box, 22 floors high, in a shaft, wasn't knowledge that I wanted to be reminded of. A wee boy behind me, who had previously found a space in the back of my knees, started to cry. Dad and another young woman tried to console him, it was only a joke, only a joke, we're gonna be alright, and consoling him consoled me. Maybe it brought lived nightmares back to him. Who knows. The woman left, and the lift finally continued it's journey, to the little space that the Albanian couple has been calling home for the past six years, and the woman who had insured our place in the lift also showed us the flat, and it turns out they're neighbours and know each other well.  It's an immaculately clean and cosy place, warm to the brim, with all the brightness of a clear winter day. I felt instantly at home. As a civilian casualty, the wife spent most of her time just here in the flat or in hospital. Previously in  Kosovo, she didn't have the opportunity of any schooling. They must lead isolated lives I assume, how else would you be able to put up not knowing any English at all for a full six years. With smiles and goodwill, we managed to communicate quite ok anyway. She will learn now, the alphabet and English, it'll be a long way but a struggle which will open up a new world to her. An hour later and she read for the first time in her life the lable of a "Tuc" packet, and her eyes lit up - that's what it is!

So much life in the high places, so many stories and histories.  A shame that they are all locked up and tucked away in the anonymity of these high places, and I'm not sure if tearing the flats down when the new year comes is a good thing or not. It will disrupt people's lives, their little space of hope, future and being at home. The sense of safety that comes out of sharing a space with others in the same situation.

Yesterday, I went on another trip into the clouds. No lift, broken or not, helped me this time, and I had to climb all 3000 feet and a bit with my own tired legs, into the clouds of Ben Vane, looking down on lochs, sheep, bogland rather than the cityscape, but my eye still seeking the distant landmarks of Scotland. I hadn't climbed any hills in a long time, and it was a very long and hard struggle, bringing me at the edge of exhaustion. Then, suddenly and unsuspected, the peak was there. It always happens like this, when the willingness to go on is almost gone and you rely on others to push you on, having almost lost all strength and willpower, like a revelation, the goal of the journey appears and makes the pains it took to get there forgotten. I should climb more mountains, lest I should ever forget.

Crispy bright sunshine, fancy coloured winter sky and a trip on the train to Edinburgh at dawn, back at dusk. The days are getting short you see. Such a beautiful place for a day trip, and what a good one to be reading just that line on the very train back to Glasgow in Anne Donovan's novel Buddha Da: "Embra's lovely, a great place for a day oot or a wee break but Glesga's hame." On the journey out I secretly observed Rosemary Byrne MSP preparing her day's work, on the trip back I shared the local train with the tour guide of the Black History tour of Glasgow (who didn't recognise me, my friendly  hi to her and sitting down next to her might have come across a bit freaky I would think), and I was amazed at the coincidence of her alighting at the same home station as me. At Central station, two year old girl complained about the lack of a view while she was surrounded by people trying to get on to the train that separated their day's work from their tea at home, and I mentally lowered myself to her height and got scared. So many people, so little space, only coats and an art nouveau glass ceiling to be seen. Half an hour earlier and I handed over some book donations for Palestine and had a chat about the lack of public funding. Ah well. It's a hard one, when your line of work gets the cuts and your volunteers are asked to pick up the pieces of the local authority's deficit, but that came about due to equal opportunities being finally implemented and underpaid (female) workers getting some long overdue pay increase. The money has to come from somewhere, and it'll be missed just there. Good to know though that practioners and researches and voluntary organisations are all in the same boat and asking the Scottish Executive for the same thing, maybe it'll be worth it in a year's time and I won't be out of my job. For the moment the Big Lottery Fund is the saving grace and if Westminster doesn't mess up the current reshuffle of Lottery moneys and how they're spent, may it live long hereafter. It all looked clear and connected today. The sunshine doesn't usually last long though.

So in spite of all the huff about the Vucaj family being deported in a dawn raid, they've done it again. Twice in fact. But the real gruesome recent dawn raid in Glasgow was that of a Pakistani family in North Glasgow. Their son was staying over in London, and the family was not allowed to make contact with him prior to deportation, so they were deported without their 16 year old son, who may still not know that his family is no longer in Glasgow. Just like that.

On the other hand my MP (Tom Harris shame be upon you) blathers on about effective immigration procedures and how "failed" asylum seekers are simply looking for a better life, are economic migrants and should apply for relevant visa rather than asylum. This argument somehow in his mind justifies arbitrary detention as well as dawn raids on families (my question to him was to review detention procedures and make them a last resort rather than use them on an arbitrary and unreflected basis), and he must think that I should agree with him. Can someone shake Tom Harris for me? And any Blairite with him? Have these politicians who are supposed to represent us actually ever spoken to a "failed" asylum seeker and listened to their stories? Economic migrant my arse, there's people fearing for their lives (I mean, really and literally) out here who still don't get refugee status. Not to mention that he never answered my original question.

Let's keep the humour though, here's a snippet from an Edinburgh-Syria egroup conversation - they were asking for the bloggers among the egroup to get active, I took it as an endorsement of using their wee conversation to cheer yous all up. Names are changed to protect privacy.

Please also sign the petition and pass it on: http://www.petitiononline.com/amn2005/petition-sign.html

Dear Ian,
Hello from Damascus, Syria. The dawn raids sound awful - worse than Saddam's Iraq! I'm off to Amman on Thursday and from there to Baghdad. Will keep you posted, David.

>Worse than Saddam - Ssshh .. got to watch these exiles you know..I'm against >a US invasion of Holyrood myself - no war for haggis!

Very witty. I'm still in Damascus - it's a beautiful city and the
people are very warm and friendly. I will send out a report later. I am a little disappointed that no-one seems to have written any report of the demo on Saturday 12th in Edinburgh. All you young whipper snappers who were brought up with computers! Remember, I am an old man who only came to computers
latye in life. Surely if I can write reports of demonstrations other
people can? Indymedia Scotland is not just about one old man! Where are Scotland's bloggers? Pass on the word about Indymedia,         Best from Syria, David (old man but not quite senile yet)

KenYersel, I would think, means "know yourself" to the non-Scot. It's an Edinburgh based project with webpresence, which is kind of in the nature of it. They combine democratic renewal, community engagement, open source and philosophical enquiry to come up with a very practical tool, which should not go unnoticed.

They have contrived a software that enables firstly to visually represent a pro/con discussion, and secondly to add to it, both online and by the old fashioned paper and pen. The outcome is a transparent record and visualisation of a discussion which is open for additions on an ongoing basis. This doesn't just make discussions more transparent to participants and policy makers, but helps reflect about the topic even beyond the actual discussion while enabling a wider range of people to participate and contribute. Open democracy at its best.

How does it work? Well, computers aren't good at representing natural languages or any non-binary stuff, so the idea is to make the discussion as binary as possible to start with. Rules are set up, taken from the philosophical enquiry theory, whereby a discussion topic is given, and each member of the discussion group gives a response to it. One response is picked and everyone is encouraged to comment on this response, by a) rephrasing the response, b)stating whether his/her contribution is in favour or against and c)making the comment. Each further contribution also has to state whether they are in favour or against and they also have to relate to the initial point. This insures that people are actually listening to one another as they always have to repeat the point that they are commenting on, and it also forces people to clearly state if they are in favour or against, which makes the visual representation simpler.

The KenYersel software (still in the development phase) then provides an interface to add all this together and link the points, using signs that represent in favour/against/point of clarification. New ideas can be inputted by a scribe, someone with access to the computer, and participants can add to this on paper or directly on the website, as it's dynamic and allows change. People are thus given a chance to review, reflect and get an objective representation of the way a discussion went, which will make it clearer, lead to understanding and possibly consensus, while enabling everyone to contribute, regardless of IT literacy or not.

Sounds great? I think so, check it out: www.kenyersel.org, where you can find out about the project, see the discussion maps and read about wikis. The actual software is not available yet, but if you drop the guys an email, they'll surely be happy to tell you more about it.

What a strange experience. There we were, in silly gowns, sitting in a converted church hall, watching even sillylier dressed old men walk up on stage, with strange hats, strange instruments, only to kneel in front of one of them to be touched on the head by one of such instruments (which they call capping), then walk on and be "hooded" by another man looking like a jester.

They call that graduation.

It's a cultural experience for me, that's why I really wanted to be part of it. At first I felt like a Rangers supporter in my blue gown, I was really worried I might be mistaken for one in fact. But somehow even the folk on the street knew that this was an academic gown and total strangers congratulated me. Later, I actually came to like it, in spite of its utter impracticality and constant slide down my shoulders while the hood string tried its best to choke me. I was one of the 9 privileged people who wore a blue gown, those who became Dr. on this day.

Someone else joined me in this honour, namely the president of Malawi, Bingu wa Mutharika. He was given an honorary doctorate, and very fittingly so. It's actually quite amazing how complex and long standing the links between Glasgow, and Strathclyde University in particular, and Malawi are. There's David Livingstone, the great explorer, who studied at Strathclyde before heading out to Malawi. Nowadays, Glasgow supports Malawi in particular, to renew these early links. In Malawi this year, there's been draught, failing crops, and even worse poverty than usual. Governments have shown to be currupt and failed their people. Now there's a new president who claims to be serious about wanting to end corruption. I hope this is the truth, only time will tell. In the meantime, Scotland is pressing to increase aid to Malawi, both in cash and in capacity, through books, computers, academic exchange and awareness raising. A small country helping another small country, two worlds that have been linked for centuries and wish to honour their common history.

And I felt particularly honoured to be sort of part of it, to be seated just five metres from the president of Malawi.

Osito thought up a great present for my birthday. Giving money to my favourite charity. Wow, great, and so generous as well. And really the best presi I could get. Then comes the big scratch, which is my favourite charity? What do you do in a world where you care for disaster victims, local action groups against motorways, the madness of detaining and disempowering refugees through a flawed legal system, where you know of all the good work so many local, regional, national and international organisations do.

It wasn't easy. In the end I picked the earthquake appeal, and felt depressed for all the other worthy causes that I denied the money. You can't win, but maybe you can't lose either, so I decided to match the donation. I'm still scratching my head though thinking, so why have I got a donation link on my blog that goes to a different cause? Maybe just because I myself would rather give generously to emergency appeals than to the struggle of reasonably empowered and wealthy folk? At least this way I can have a clean(er) conscience saying that I'm encouraging other to give to other causes. For better or worth. 

Two things: I need to post more photos, this blog is dire (check out the apple photo in my apple posting, in express section)
 How do I actually change the paypal button so it doesn't look as if I'm asking people to give me money, so that it becomes obvious this is a button for the JAM74 campaign? Any answers in cyberspace?

Last night I felt transformed back to the age of 14, in the middle of a sports class, being humiliated by the teacher in front of my classmates for being simply rubbish and unable to dive head first into a pool.

No, I wasn't swimming, wasn't even at sports. Instead, I found myself in an evening class trying to master php, or at least to understand it. The feeling was the same, and throwing ot the computer into a pool and jumping right behind it (head first even) has never been more attractive.

As much as I love the internet, computers, fiddling about, learning new stuff and all that, last night's class managed to get me ragingly angry. It started with the first half of a presentation into the beauties of php. All being new technology and e-learning, it was all displayed by projector. 8 meters from my eyes, and my eyesight isn't great at the best of times (which, incidentally, is why I never jumped head first into pools, couldn't quite see where I was going). So there's listening to the tutor, trying to read what he's talking about and not being able to make out the difference between colon and comma, squiggly brackets and round brackets. No handout, so I need to copy it all (of course it'll be on a website the next day, but what's the use of that right now!). While I copy, I can't listen. I listen. Can't copy quick enough, miss half of it. Then I'm told to use what was on the screen (and no longer is) to programme something. Tutor elaborately praises smartarse sitting next to me, who doesn't just do the requested, but does it much better and neater than necessary, too complicated for me to copy or be of any help me in my misery. Tutor ignores my growing despair. Time's up and I still haven't got a clue. I shut down computer and leave, tears swelling up - I am that 14 year old me.

To be fair, the tutor is a nice man, very patient, but either he doesn't or he doesn't want to realise that I am struggling. Maybe I'm in the wrong class, maybe I'm just dumb. All I know is that sometimes I hate independent learning and would appreciate getting some help when I can't figure things out, which, in fact, is rare enough.