The Truth About the Refugee Crisis
They’re coming in boats.” “We’re too full.” “They’re not like us.”
This is 2025 yet the conversation about the refugee and immigration crisis is stuck in the 1970s. How has this happened in modern day Britain?
With record numbers of people arriving from conflict zones like Sudan, Afghanistan, and Ukraine, the UK’s response is under scrutiny and opinions are louder and more divided than ever. Hotel barges, deportation plans to Rwanda, and heated political arguments are being discussed across the country.
As a teenager growing up in a proudly immigrant family, I’ve always heard stories about how my relatives came to the UK to escape violence or persecution. But I never connected those stories to the current crisis — until now. To understand where we are today, I went back to where my own family’s story in Britain began: Uganda, 1972.
In 1972 my grandfather was forced to flee his home in Busembatya, Uganda because of Idi Amin. “It was so sudden”, Champaklal Patel, my 71-year-old grandfather told me sitting in my living room in Buckinghamshire.
My grandfather was forced to leave his home at the age of 12 with his 2 younger brothers and younger sister. His mother and father left the next day. He described it as “Ēka jīvanta narka, mēṁ jē kharāba paristhitimānthī pasāra karyuṁ chē tē sauthī kharāba chē.” (A living hell, the worst situation I have ever been through)
In recent years, the UK government has introduced stricter immigration rules aimed at reducing the number of people crossing the Channel in small boats and limiting access to asylum. Under the Illegal Migration Act, for example, anyone arriving “illegally” is now automatically detained and barred from claiming asylum — regardless of their circumstances.
The controversial Rwanda deportation plan has also sparked fierce debate over ethics and effectiveness. These policies have been defended as necessary measures to protect borders and prevent exploitation of the system, but they also raise pressing questions: Are we criminalising desperation? Are we forgetting our past? My grandfather once told me, “We didn’t ask to leave home — we just wanted to live.” Today’s policies seem far removed from that simple human truth. As Britain redefines its borders in the name of protection, many ask whether it is losing humanity in the process.
Immigration has both ethical and economic dimensions shaped by global factors such as conflict and climate change. Displacement often stems from international crises requiring coordinated responses.
Economically, immigration helps fill labour shortages in key sectors like healthcare, agriculture, and construction. In the UK, managing immigration involves balancing workforce needs with pressure on public services. Policy decisions, transparency, and business involvement play key roles in supporting integration and maintaining effective systems.
Listening to my grandfather talk about being forced to flee Uganda, the parallels with today became impossible to ignore. In the 1970s, people like him were branded as outsiders, even though many had lived in Uganda for generations. When they arrived in Britain, they were met with suspicion, hostility, and headlines warning of a flood of immigrants who would “ruin” the country.
Fast forward to today, and we’re hearing the same fears — only now, the targets are different. Local child immigrants Benjy G and Nikolay A spoke on the fear they felt as children when entering the country “We felt like everyone was looking at us, and we could hear them judging” Refugees crossing the Channel are portrayed as threats rather than people. In both eras, fear has shaped public opinion more than facts. In 1972, people said Ugandan Asians would never integrate — but they did, and many went on to become doctors, shop owners, teachers, and citizens. So, what’s really changed? The policies have become more complex, but the tone of the debate often feels stuck in the past.
If history teaches us anything, it’s that turning away people in need doesn’t solve problems — it creates them. Instead of reacting with fear or blame, we should be asking: How can we manage immigration in a fair and human way?
That doesn’t mean opening the borders to everyone. It means having a system that works — one that processes asylum claims quickly, supports people while they wait, and helps them integrate if they’re allowed to stay. We should also be honest about the benefits migrants bring, especially in industries like healthcare, transport, and food. And most importantly, we need to change the way we talk about refugees — not as threats, but as people, like my grandfather once was.
He told me: “We didn’t come to take anything — we came to survive. And then we worked hard to give back.” That’s a message I think Britain needs to hear again.
Reported By Kishan P