This reflection was written by Ven, Campaigner for These Walls Must Fall, for the vigil held for Theophile Kalivotis, who died in Brook House Detention Centre.

It has hardly been three weeks since we protested at the detention centre for women in Durham, and now we are faced with the tragic news that Theophile Kalivotis, just 26 years old, has died in Brook House Detention Centre. As someone who is not feeling well, I still felt compelled to join the vigil organised by the Manchester Resistance Deportation Group and Manchester No Borders this Sunday. As an activist and campaigner, I believe it’s vital to stand in solidarity with those who suffer under the cruel conditions of detention.

As an activist from Zimbabwe, I have witnessed persecution first-hand. I know what it means when the place you call home no longer offers the protection it once did. For many, the choice to leave is one of survival, a journey to find safety, to reach a sanctuary. But to endure such a journey only to face death so tragically, in a place we believed would be safe, is beyond heart-breaking.

We’ve been speaking out about the harsh realities of detention, that it kills and is not a humane environment for those who have committed no crimes only want to stay safe here. Learning of this young man’s death, along with reports of 19 incidents of mistreatment in these centres over a five-month period in 2017, weighs heavily on my heart. I went to the vigil feeling miserable, vulnerable, and tired, but also thinking about the family who lost their son, a young man who came to this country seeking safety.

I didn’t attend just for myself but for everyone enduring the hostile treatment imposed by the UK government. It was heart-breaking to hear the speeches at the vigil, where people spoke passionately about the fatal consequences of detention. I left feeling confused and hopeless, pondering what more we could do to illuminate these issues and demonstrate that detention is lethal.

No mother should lose her son in a detention centre, and no sibling should mourn the loss of a brother in a country that claims to lead in humanity and advocates for human rights. This situation is profoundly disappointing and fuels anger, pain, and despair that affects us all. We must unite in saying that detention must end.

How many more lives must be lost before we see change? Is there no alternative to dealing with these issues other than detention? My heart goes out to everyone still caught in this system, those who are refugees, and anyone who has undertaken a long and perilous journey seeking safety.

For those who have made it, let us remember those who have not and honour their memory by continuing to raise awareness. We must keep speaking out against this injustice and the truth that detention kills.

Tjarirove Tjivava, Campaigner for These Walls Must Fall, also wrote a reflection on the vigil.

As a young LGBT woman who has had to flee everything familiar; family, culture, language, food, and even the weather, this news has brought up a flood of emotions, memories, and fear. For many of us who’ve fled to find safety, learning that such a loss can occur in a country we hoped would protect us is deeply unsettling.

Being part of the These Walls Must Fall campaign and working with groups like LISG, Manchester, FiLiA, Manchester No Borders, and Manchester Resist Deportations, we often talk about our challenges, fears, and survival. But hearing about Theophile Kalivotis passing has made me realise the fragility of our safety, even in places we consider secure.

“I felt not only sadness but also horror at the thought of a family receiving their loved one in a body bag, a fate I can’t imagine for myself or anyone else who has come here for protection.”

Even when we face rejection or misunderstanding from some of our families, there are always those who love us, who hope to see us alive and thriving. Those are the people who came to my mind, and it’s heartbreaking to think of them receiving that tragic call.

Attending the vigil organised by Manchester No Borders and Manchester Resist Deportations was incredibly meaningful. I needed that space to find closure, to be with others who understood the weight of this loss. Facing this in isolation, in asylum accommodation with no one to process the news with, is painful. Gathering with others allowed us to grieve together, to think of the young man he could have become if he’d had the chance.

“Remember he had a name, and his name was Theophile Kalivotis.”

I was also reminded of the protest we attended at the women’s detention centre in Durham, where some women told us they could hear us. But what if one of those women could no longer hear because her life had been taken too soon by a system that should have offered safety and compassion?

This experience has only strengthened my conviction that detention centres are harmful and should not exist. We are here because we seek safety and to build our lives, not to have them cut short. I hope that sharing these reflections might add to the conversation and understanding of the urgency of compassionate treatment for asylum seekers.

#NoOneIsIllegal

#TheseWallsMustFall

#BordersKill