3 minute read
L’Myah Sherae Windrush scandal must be tackled
MOST OF us are aware of the horrors of the Windrush scandal. The Home Office atrocity began to surface in 2017 after it emerged that thousands of Black Britons who arrived in the UK after the Second World War, many of whom were from the Windrush generation, had been wrongly detained, deported and denied legal rights.
Despite the fact the Home Office said it was “committed to righting the wrongs of Windrush”, the government’s compensation scheme, which was established to right these wrongs, is still continuing to fail the very same generation.
Research by Human Rights Watch shows that as of January 2023, only 12.8 per cent of the estimated 11,500 eligible claimants have been compensated. This lack of action, care, and remedial support is shameful. As a result of the Windrush scandal, some Black Britons remain un-
Government inertia over paying victims reminds us of decades of oppression
employed due to being pushed out of the labour force for an extended period of time. Others are in temporary housing or facing eviction due to unpaid bills.
Many are deeply in debt, and some victims still have unmet physical and psychological needs, as well as a sense of loss and depression.
Imagine if this was your grandmother, your great aunt or your uncle? And, what makes matters even worse, is that this is the sad reality for many of us.
The government’s poor and careless decisions have had a monumental impact on the lives of an entire Black generation. Yet, they’re brazen enough to act with little urgency, dragging their heels and failing to pay out the compensation they publicly promised to provide.
The Home Office itself has revealed that over 20 people have died whilst waiting for their Windrush compensation claims to be paid.
Harm
But the exploitation and disproportionate harm towards Caribbean communities does not stop there. Time and time again, the UK has carved out an extremely problematic relationship with Black groups of Caribbean heritage, and it needs to be discussed. Let’s take the issue of deportation for example – in the last two decades, the UK government has deported thousands of people to the Caribbean.
Many of these ‘deportees’ left the Caribbean as infants and grew up in the UK. In fact, I’m going to dig a little deeper and highlight the specific example that hit headlines in 2020, when the UK Home Office attempted to deport 50 people on a flight to Jamaica.
The flight was disrupted at the 11th hour because four people were recognised as potential victims of trafficking. And, another 29 were also allowed to stay after a last-minute challenge.
In my opinion, all of this suggests the painful notion that Black Caribbean people are disposable in the UK, and can be banished by political leaders at any given time; which is ironic, considering the fact that political leaders are literally the ones who are meant to protect our rights.
And does racism in UK institutions only impact adults of Caribbean heritage? No, it impacts our children, too. Figures show that the fixed-term exclusion rate for Black Caribbean children is more than six times higher compared to white British children in schools.
For Black Caribbean girls, research highlights that they are often excluded from education after having experienced unaddressed sexual harassment and abuse, poor mental health, and racism from peers and teachers.
Studies also suggest that negative stereotypes, discrimination, and the adultification of Black girls in particular, play huge roles in their exclusion from school.
Many of the same issues relating to structural racism disproportionately affect Black Caribbean groups throughout our lives.
Caribbean students are one of the least likely groups to attend university and if admitted to university, Black students in general have some of the highest dropout rates.
Defendants
The UK government itself states that “Black Caribbean and Black Other groups consistently had the highest rates” of being stopped and searched, and if charged by police, Black defendants were more likely to have their cases terminated due to weak evidence.
Research by Parliament even states “this may suggest that incorrect decisions were being made by police officers to charge more frequently in cases involving Black offenders”. This brings me back full circle to how sinister the Windrush scandal truly is. Some of the Black children, students and adults previously highlighted in the statistics will be the descendants of those who migrated to the UK during the ‘Windrush era’.
They travelled to support, help and rebuild Britain, to then only be exploited, denied legal rights, and some were even deported against their will. So when we demand compensation for the Windrush generation, let’s remember we’re setting a precedence.
We want to ensure that the next generation of Black children refrain from having to suffer the same barriers we Caribbean people endure today.
And pushing the government to give Windrush scandal victims the compensation they are owed, and deserve, is a crucial first step.