(A lived experience of the hostile environment)
In a land that whispers welcome, yet builds fences in its mind,
Where a neighbour becomes a warden, and compassion grows unkind
Lives a quiet, constant tension, shaped by laws that hide their aim,
For the “race-blind” written letter masks a deeper, older blame.
They talk of illegal bodies, as though people can be wrong,
As though fleeing war or hunger is a crime for being strong.
Across the papers and in Parliament, the chorus stays the same:
Migration is a problem, and the migrant wears the shame.
They securitise existence, weigh a person by their route
Cross the Channel in a small boat? Then your story is “in dispute”.
Not a mother, not a child, not a future to protect
Just a number in a headline, or a risk the state detects.
They call it “border control”, but the borders seep inside,
Into classrooms, homes and hospitals where human rights divide.
A receptionist or landlord becomes the judge of who belongs,
And a simple act of seeking care can prove you’ve done something wrong.
Surveillance grows in silence; data flows behind closed doors,
A victim seeking safety risks enforcement at the core.
For the state that claims protection shares her name with those who chase,
Leaving trauma, fear and silence in the space where trust should grace.
They say, “we’re all in this together”, yet draw lines down skin and faith,
Where “immigrant” means not white, and suspicion maps your face.
Even children live with countdowns to the day they turn eighteen,
When adulthood means deportation, dreams erased before they’re seen.
And riots spark like warnings when the rhetoric runs wild,
When hotels become the battlegrounds, and hatred goes unfiled.
The language that dehumanises gives violence a public voice,
Showing clearly that the hostile path was always the racist choice.
Yet still, through all the labelling, the numbers, lies and fear
People hold on to their dignity, refusing to disappear.
For humanity outruns borders, and no policy can bind
The power of a person who is steadfast, brave and kind.
So, this poem holds their stories, those made targets by design,
Those navigating daily life along the hostile borderline.
And it speaks this truth with courage, for the future we must claim:
A world where justice shelters all and no one carries shame.
Alyson Malach