ONE GOOD REASON by Emma Salisbury

Author:Emma Salisbury [Salisbury, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-25T00:00:00+00:00

8

‘You can look at some people and see the future mapped out for them.’

-Femi Ukeje

The Dignity Centre was situated between a unisex barbers and an internet café. The woman who greeted Ashcroft at the door introduced herself as Femi Ukeje. She was of Nigerian descent, her long braided hair fell across a kaftan style top which she wore over a patterned skirt. She ushered him inside, locking the door behind him. ‘The centre doesn’t open for another hour so we will not be interrupted,’ she told him as she showed him through to her office.

The interior was basic. A reception area with chairs set out like a doctor’s waiting room. Posters in several languages explained this was a drop-in centre and the wait to be seen by an advisor could be several hours. If all the seats are taken, please come back another day, stated a sign sellotaped to a low table in the centre of the room.

‘Please, sit down,’ she said, indicating the chair positioned at the side of her desk. She seemed to slump the moment she lowered herself into her own.

‘I’m struggling to take it in, to be honest.’

Ashcroft gave her a sympathetic nod. ‘You’re bound to. It’s been a shock for everyone involved.’

‘I’m so grateful that your colleague telephoned me.’

‘You didn’t hear about the shooting on the news, then?’ he asked her.

Femi shook her head. ‘I’ve been away on a residential course. I only got back yesterday evening.’

‘Something useful, I hope.’

She pulled a face. ‘A Home Office run programme in Folkstone. Updating humanitarian agencies on the government’s latest policy for dealing with migrants. These things can get very intense.’

‘I can imagine.’

Her desk was piled high with legal textbooks marked with post-it notes. On the shelf beside her several box files contained information booklets: Credible Fear Interview, Emergency Support, Family Reunion Visas.

A framed print on the wall behind her stated:

Don’t tell me how to tie my laces until you’ve walked in my shoes.

‘How long have you been doing this?’ Ashcroft asked her.

Femi puffed out her cheeks. ‘Well, I’m 40 next year, and this is the only job I’ve had since leaving school. Even then I used to stick up for the underdog. I guess that fight never left me.’

‘It must be very rewarding.’

She eyed him steadily.

‘Hmmm. What would you think if someone said that about your job?’

Ashcroft didn’t hesitate.

‘That they didn’t have a clue what it entailed. My bad,’ he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. Then again, it didn't pay to dwell on how grim the job could get.

‘We’re all guilty of it,’ she said, shrugging away his apology. ‘The need to sugar coat everything. To make even the most soul-destroying work seem better than it is.’

She was silent for a moment, as though remembering why he was there.

‘I never thought something like this could happen to someone like Aisha,’ she stated. ‘You know how it is. You can look at some people and see the future mapped out for them — not always in a good way,’ she admitted, ‘not in my line of work.

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