In theory, typically at least, a person is held in immigration detention at the point at which they are imminently to be removed from the UK. This arrangement, which is to say the detention, is temporary, but it is also indefinite. The consequence is that a person who is not at that point charged with any crime can be detained for months or years, pending their removal. At the recently closed Dover Immigration Removal Centre, for example, the longest period of detention was over four years.… Following that period of indefinite detention, some people, less than half as it turns out, will actually be removed. The others, for whatever reason, often to do with the impossibility of securing travel documents, will be ‘released’ back into the community. Once released some will be accommodated in Section 4 bail accommodation, which the conditions of their bail will specify they have to return to every night (a requirement sometimes reinforced by an electronic tag). Since people who have been detained, former detainees, can’t work, they receive a form of relief paid not in cash but in the form of vouchers called an Azure card; a form of top-up card that can only be used in certain shops or supermarkets and which (as the British Red Cross reported in 2014) carries certain restrictions including, crucially, the fact that it can’t be spent on public transport.… The restriction on public transport … is among the most material effects, one consequence being that when they have to report at a Home Office Reporting Centre (on a weekly, fortnightly or monthly basis, depending on the conditions of their release from detention) many former detainees will have to walk long distances just to make the report. The more general effect, however, is to fix a person in a given location, often for months and years on end (over a decade is not at all uncommon). Except that with that stasis—again, part of the lexicon of detention—comes the risk that at any point they might be ‘dispersed’ (relocated to another part of the country), or re-detained (which is common). The result of all of the above is that ex-detainees (who are frequently so-called failed asylum seekers, but who might sometimes, perhaps years later, secure refugee status) have a deeply compromised relation to public space.
David Herd, “Afterword: Walking with Refugee Tales,” in Refugee Tales, edited by David Herd and Anna Pincus, Comma, 2016, pp. 135–6.