I was numb after my husband died. That changed when I invited an asylum seeker into my home
Walking down to the sea on a beautiful sunny day with Aryan* – the young Afghan asylum seeker who lives with me – we were elated.
He had just had his asylum application fast-tracked, so we were taking in the waterfalls around us in North Devon to celebrate.
Aryan said, ‘This looks just like my province of Kunar’. Like Exmoor – where we live – Kunar is very green and hilly, with the water running through lovely wooded areas all the way down towards the sea.
On our way home, I took a rest and Aryan went over to the river to pray. A couple walked past and, after stopping to take in the scene, they held up their own hands in prayer with his.
This exchange made me feel so hopeful that these two people stopped to make a point of solidarity with him. It was a beautiful moment.
I met Aryan after a dark period of my life.
David, my husband of 47 years, passed away on 10 April 2019.
In the aftermath, I told my family and friends that I was doing OK but, really, I was numb. I couldn’t even go to the places I used to visit or listen to the music I once enjoyed because it might make me remember my husband and I’d cry.
I woke up one morning and thought, ‘I cannot spend another 30 years living this unhappily’.
My neighbour was volunteering at the local asylum hotel and – with my background as a nurse – she encouraged me to join her.
So I started volunteering there in January 2023.
On my first day at the hotel, I was meant to be assisting the GP, but all the volunteers were overloaded. Within about five minutes, I was picking up the phone to the local school to get a place for one of the boys.
After that first hectic day, I knew I had to come back.
With time, the hotel residents began to trust us. When we were together, we laughed and laughed.
Aryan was quieter than some of the other residents, so it took me longer to get to know him. It was right at the end of March when we first sat down for a proper chat.
Aryan was a 22-year-old soldier in the Afghan army who fled for his life after the killing of his father and other family when the Taliban returned to power in August 2021.
After escaping, he was brutally beaten trying to cross several borders and he almost drowned crossing the Channel.
Upon reaching the UK, he became unwell due to the cold and damp conditions at Manston processing centre. There were hundreds of people in one camp, cramped without proper food or water, and Aryan told me he was given a thin blanket to sleep on the concrete floor in the freezing cold.
By the time he arrived at the asylum centre, he still had not fully recovered.
When he first told me his story, it took my breath away how humans could do this to one another. He was showing me pictures of his sister and brother, and the Taliban killing his father. My heart was broken and all I could do was listen and show that I cared.
Unfortunately, the hotel closed on 20 May and we do not have a clear answer as to why. Still, when the news came through, I decided to offer Aryan a home and he was very keen on the idea.
I had always planned to ask someone from the hotel to live with me and I was sure Aryan was the right person. So after checking in with the community sponsorship programme, it was settled.
During the first few days, I asked Aryan to choose which bedroom he wanted and I left him to sort out his room. He brought tonnes of photographs with him and sellotaped them to the wall.
My kids were never allowed to stick things to the wall and they joked it was not fair that I allowed him to. But being at the hotel teaches you that there’s more going on in life than a bit of sellotape.
Of course, there have been some strange moments. Aryan does a lot of the cooking, but once, I came downstairs into the kitchen early on when we were living together and he said ‘eggs, please’.
He just did not have the language to ask politely for what he wanted and I said, ‘No, that’s not how you ask, it’s like this’.
I left shortly after just to feed my friend’s cat and when I returned, Aryan thought I had reported him to the police. Even now, he thinks if he does something wrong, the police will come and either send him back to Afghanistan or even to Rwanda.
As long as he waits for refugee status, he lives with the fear that his claim will be rejected or dismissed. That really stays with him.
It is not unique to Aryan either. They all feel like this.
But Aryan is part of our family now. In fact, he often reminds me of my grandson. He eats all the food and he likes to be cheeky, even playing little pranks on me — and calls me ‘grumpy Pam’!
He loves to tend to the garden and is a wonderful cook, making incredible korma and biryani.
Most of all, Aryan is extremely kind, and our differences have never been a hurdle. I adore coming home to the sound of his Afghan music and his friends.
Our small village has welcomed him with open arms, too. Like when Aryan joined the local cricket club, they made sure he was fully kitted up.
The first time he played, everyone in the crowd applauded and some even cried when he got his first wicket. He then taught cricket at the local primary school and all the children adored him.
So when I see politicians talking about getting rid of refugees and stopping the boats, it simply does not sit with what we have experienced as a village – and it makes me feel so disillusioned with my country.
This is not what the public wants. I do not know anyone who truly agrees with sending people to Rwanda, including Conservatives. I feel gutted to have a government who thinks this is acceptable. It makes me feel ashamed to be British.
The asylum system is letting Aryan and so many others down. As residents at the hotel, there were solicitors, paramedics, doctors, teachers – so many wonderful people forced to sit idle and feel helpless because they are not allowed to work, and their claims were delayed.
The future is uncertain right now, but Aryan wants to join the British army – he even has a British flag and an Afghan flag hung up together in his bedroom. I know, eventually, he would love to get married and have children.
Aryan just wants what any young person would – a settled future – and I really encourage anyone to volunteer with people seeking safety. Whether for an hour here and there or hosting someone, we all have something to offer.
Hosting Aryan has completely changed my life for the better.
* Name has been changed
Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing James.Besanvalle@metro.co.uk.
Share your views in the comments below.