I provide care for your elders, your ancestors, the individuals who hold a special place in your heart.
I offer support in times of fear, hold their hands during moments of trembling, and provide solace in the stillness of the night. I assist them in regaining their mobility, their appetite, and their sense of humanity.
At times, I am the source of their first smile in weeks. Each day, I dedicate a portion of myself to those under my care, as they deserve respect, empathy, and affection.
I am a migrant caregiver, and I take immense pride in the work I do silently and earnestly. I do not extend care merely out of obligation; it is an intrinsic part of my identity.
Arriving in the UK as an asylum seeker seeking safety and a fresh start, I began my journey as a caregiver. Through my efforts, I received acknowledgment, gratitude, and genuine recognition from those I assisted and their families.
This acknowledgment fueled my determination and sense of purpose. However, recently, I sense that the nation I serve fails to fully acknowledge me as an individual beyond my role, the one who dedicates so much each day.
My work entails long shifts that often exhaust me. I contribute to the tax system like any other citizen. Everything I possess is earned through hard work, patience, and compassion.
Despite my efforts, I occasionally hear individuals referring to workers like myself as a “burden” or even a “stranger.” A burden?
I rise before dawn to ensure another person’s mother is cared for and comfortable. I stay beyond my scheduled hours to guarantee a family can head to work knowing their father is in good hands.
I take on roles that others hesitate to fill. Care facilities remain operational due to our presence. Hospitals continue to function because of us.
Families remain intact because of our support. If migrant caregivers were to vanish suddenly, the entire system would falter, impacting millions of lives. The recent proposal suggesting a *15-year* waiting period before applying for Indefinite Leave to Remain fills me with an indescribable ache.
Fifteen years of dedicating my energy, time, and youth. Fifteen years of service, sacrifice, and allegiance—yet I am still told, “You do not belong here yet.”
We do not seek special treatment or accolades. We simply ask for fairness and humanity. How can we be labeled a burden when we shoulder such significant responsibilities? When we uplift so many?
I do not wish to feel like a transient visitor in the place where I spend my days serving others wholeheartedly. All I desire is stability, respect, and an opportunity to construct a future without waiting endlessly to gain trust.
To the UK, I express this heartfelt sentiment: We are not here to take; we are here to give—and we have been giving since our arrival.
My only wish is that one day, the country I care for will reciprocate that care towards us.
