Here we are in Ireland's arms

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project

I am here in Ireland from 9 months. I came from Pakistan in search of protection. I leave my parents, my siblings, my relatives, my friends even my pets parrots there in my home country where I lived from my birth 1976 to 2018 in one city Lahore. I leave there my childhood memories because my husband and my children's lives were not safe there. Maybe we were murdered or kidnapped there. So we travelled to IRELAND in search of protection. Here we are in Ireland’s arms. Me and my husband and my children were suffered from bad trauma. First of all I believe in God who send us here to safe our lives. I believe in Ireland that Ireland never leaves me alone and helpless. I heard from my teachers in Mosney what you give to Ireland, Ireland I’ll return you I gave my pure and my husband and our children's lives in his hands and I believe him.

The Start and End of my Journey are Very Different

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project


I wanted to go somewhere really different, I didn’t have much tying me down at the time. I signed up to go, it was a very easy decision to make in theory - moving from Ireland to Singapore. It only started to dawn on me nearer the date that I was changing my life. Unfortunately I got into a relationship a month before I was going. When people said how do you feel about going, it really didn’t hit me. The night before it suddenly hit me - I was breaking up with my girlfriend and I got really emotional as I was changing my life so much. I was living out of a suitcase in Singapore for about a month before all my stuff got shipped over.

At first I had a singular view of Singapore that it was very Asian, because I was based in China Town - near all the Chinese medicine shops and traditional culture. I felt like a minority, especially on the subway - blond hair, fair, tall... later on once I started travelling around Asia I started to experience people looking at me or coming up to take pictures of me. I am photographed all around Asia with people’s kids - Indonesia, Malaysia, I was gawked at, taken photos of, followed around.

I got sick at the start because of the change in climate. I was by myself, I didn’t know anyone. Later on when I met other Irish people I got to know a few people, but at the start it was a bit emotional - for the first few months I had regrets and doubts.

I remember the first time when an Australian colleague took me to Robertson Quay, I realised I wasn’t SO alien - it was the first time I experienced an expat area. At lunchtime people split up into their language groups - French speakers, Indian speakers, Malay speakers - it suited me being a bit detached and I drifted between the groups, I didn’t have my own group.

The idea of race became very prominent to me. Before leaving Ireland I would never really have thought about race. Being there I noticed how people of other races spoke about race a lot - without having an anxiety about it. I realised what it was like to be faced with racial bias. That aspect of when people really blend in with each other and you stand out. Then I got over that. It was just an initial reaction where I felt a bit intimidated by standing out so much.

The guts of the first year I felt quite isolated - in fact I had wanted to go because I wanted to face that anxiety of being alone, I wanted to feel confident in being independent. So I didn’t mix with the Irish crowd at first. It was the first time I had lived alone, outside of my family’s house, I was detached from any comfort of family, it was the first time I would have ever gone to a bar on my own.

I think I achieved the learning experience of travelling by myself around Asia, learning how to be confident in being alone. One aspect of my journey which was difficult is that I met an American girl there, we got into a relationship 3 years ago. She had been to Trinity and had her own experience of living in Dublin before moving to Singapore. We moved in together and we were considering both moving to America in 2020. Unfortunately on a recent trip back to Ireland, my father had a seizure, which developed and he had a very aggressive form of brain cancer. So, I thought - well my journey is over now. I came back in April. It is strange because I was planning to stay, I feel like I have unfinished business - my girlfriend is still over there. You never know what will happen, you speak to your parents and you never know what news is going to come down the line.

The start and end of my journey are very different. The start and end are so different - the start is voluntary, and the end was because this really unexpected thing happened and kind of snatched me out of it. When I came back in my old bedroom, I felt like it was all just a weird dream. 4 years which maybe I dreamt. The person I was there, was a different person to who I was at home.

You Were Just a Paddy Who’d Been Responsible for the Bombs

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project


Being born in Belfast at the beginning of The Troubles, around 1972, into a family where they did not subscribe to a religion on purpose - they came from a political background of a socialist and a communist nature through my grandparents - we were brought up neither being protestant or catholic. We were brought up not to be labelled as either, not to be nationalist, not to be loyalist, or anything like that. It made you feel... I found myself feeling like you didn’t belong in the place you belonged, like you were from a place and yet you did not conform to either label that was being put on you by people. Increasingly so throughout The Troubles people questioned “Are you Protestant?”, “Are you Catholic? “, “Where do you live?”, “What is your tradition?”, “What do you subscribe to?”, “Where do you go to church?”…. when the answer was - to none of them.

Growing up I did not really understand why I didn’t belong to either and feeling that I didn’t belong somehow, because I didn’t belong to either of those situations. Then at 16 when I moved to London, having lived through this… this identity driven society that I grew up in, to then move to a culture that was diverse and yet people had no clue about what being British or Irish living in Northern Ireland means. To them they were just like, “What is Belfast? Do we own Belfast? Is it even in Ireland? What’s Ireland?”. Or they said: “Oh you’re just a Paddy then.”

Whether you’re Protestant or Catholic , actually realising that it really mattered so little to other people - all this stuff that had been enforced on you growing up and as a child while people were actually killing each other over for the whole of your childhood - and then you moved somewhere and most people didn’t care anything about it until it landed on their doorstep…

I suppose when you had such things as Warrington bombings and Manchester bombings, and suddenly it was on their doorstep - then whether you were Protestant or Catholic, if you had been brought up in Northern Ireland it wouldn’t have mattered, you were just a Paddy who’d been responsible for the bombs in England. Then there would be terrible anti-Irish feeling which was another thing. It makes you really think that for people who were brought up with one tradition or another, when you go outside your ‘zone’ you’re suddenly labelled whatever they want to label you.

London never really sat well with me, I never really felt at home there. I love going, I enjoy it, it’s great when you go visiting. So I decided to go to the other end of the coin - and I moved to Dublin where again, you know, it was difficult, you know, to put up with people saying, ‘Who are you? Where are you from?’ and you say who you are and where you’re from, and you give your name and you say, ‘Well, I’m from Belfast’ but then that throws up an image to someone from Dublin about who you must be and your name is a Catholic name and why are you living there and so there again you’re being stereotyped and labelled again from a few little pinpoints of information, a few bits of detail that people make assumptions from.

My youth was built up of people making assumptions on you and you trying your hardest not to fall foul of the category you’re put into as well. You’re scared to sort of talk out of turn say the wrong thing to the wrong person. To give away the wrong information about who you are where you’re from because actually you don't fall into any of those categories, and that was always very difficult, as a child you always wanted to belong, you wanted to belong to something but you didn’t know what you wanted to belong to, you just didn’t want to be that person that was different, but yet you were, and it’s only as an adult you can look back and embrace your differences but it was a very difficult thing to grow up within Northern Ireland at that time.

I feel like Ireland hugged me and gave me and family protection in his arms.

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project

Hi, I am from Pakistan. I am 43 years old house wife living with my husband and 4 kids in Ireland. In Pakistan last year my husband and my house were attacked by firing twice. My husband is a famous drama producer in Pakistan. A gang wants large amount of ransom otherwise they want to kidnap and kill my husband, me and my children. Our lives were in danger in my home country. Lahore is the safest city of Pakistan but our lives was in danger we might be murdered there where I spend my 42 years of life. We got scared our bad circumstances made me and my husband stress and depression patients. We and our children bound in our home because we were afraid of kidnapped and murdered. The gang was international they called my husband from different international numbers. We decided to go Ireland. We came Ireland through UK. Because we only have UKs visa. The international gang knew that we visited UK many time in our summer holidays. All the situation made me and my family scared, stressed, upset and helpless.we tried to ask help in our country but they didn't help us and didn't gave us security. So we decided to go to Ireland with our children for protection and to secure our lives. I didn't want to see my husband and my children kidnapped and murdered in front of my eyes.


In Ireland IPO send us to Mosney. Every thing is new for me and my family. We already came scared from our country. I saw security in Mosney. Every one is very friendly. All staff is very cooperative. My younger daughters started their school they felt happy because in our country they didn't play out side even was not going to school regularly because of our bad incident. I found Mosney a safe place for me and my family. I found Ireland a cultural country who respect women and children with open heart. I am a Muslim and Ireland have different religion but Ireland respected my religion with open heart. I feel like Ireland hugged me and gave me and family protection in his arms.g

I guess that means I have not really settled down yet

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project

I left China to Singapore 2007 and after 12 years later I have established my own family with my husband who is from Australia with our two kids. Though living in an Asian country, I do feel missing home all the time or rather compare things against those back home or anywhere I have been to. I guess that means I have not really settled down yet. And I don’t know where I will be settling down in the future.

A phantom that inhabits me wherever I go

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project

I am in the cafe and veil myself in the proficiency a cup of coffee and a laptop presents. Today I am ok, but I have dragged displacement about me like a weight or like a phantom that inhabits me wherever I go. Only in the creative process of my work is this distilled and centres me like an internal compass, and I transmute the phantoms in the act of being an artist. I am the daughter of two migrants, each from separate countries who both fled or were war damaged. I was born in England but moved to Ireland over 20 years ago. I have negotiated 4 cultures now but belong to none. I look to what dissolves these boundaries that people are so fixed on. When I make work, I am exhilarated, it is the only thing that dissolves the unbelonging I have felt all my life. The atmospheric silent invisible treacle that can bind me is also dissolved when I meet others like me and it has taught me to find a meeting place and empathic listening in all people I encounter and somehow people give me their stories. It’s like I have been an atmospheric barometer all my life to work out the nuances of what is going on. This habit comes from being a child in situations where you are having to learn ways of being other people have embedded in them from being born in a place of belonging. I try not to dwell on displacement anymore, but it is a dwelling, it is where we , the others, dwell.

I was discovered to be a taboo in my home country

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project

My name is Precious, an LGBT 24 year old lady currently living in direct provision. I made plans to relocate to Ireland 2018 as I was discovered to be a taboo in my home country, Nigeria. On getting to direct provision I was tossed in a room with other africans who are steady judging me. To live or not to live is now the question as I took Africa with me to Ireland and will never let me be free truly.

Love people - even the 'hard-to-love' ones

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project

I have educated myself out of a pattern of 'fixing' others, wanting to please others and into a space of self care, with compassion for self AND others. I have overcome bullying and discrimination in the workplace, made many friends along life's path and disconnected from the toxic people who have come across my meanders. I am eternally curious, love learning, love people - even the 'hard-to-love' ones. I savour the many simple moments of joy in a day, and seek to create and share more of these with others....life is too short to be bitter or miserable.... there are times of sadness usually the loss felt when love of someone so strong has died....and there have been many... I don't wish, I dream and do!

I don't want to return to my country it is still dangerous

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project by Nicola Anthony

My name is Nisan. I came here in 2010, I was very young. Civil war broke out in my country, Nepal. I didn't know anything about Ireland, but some people from my country said “they will send you back” so I lied about my name - but then they found my fingerprints.

I stayed with my friends in an Indian restaurant. In 2016 they found me - I was sent to prison. I was talking with my solicitor and she took me out of prison - I have never done any crimes or anything wrong, I am good person. But after 2016 I was in the system - they asked me for my passport and I did not want to hide any more. I applied for a hostel and they gave me a Mount Trenchard. Because I don't want to lie any more I never miss the signing in, and I use my real name now. We have to sign in to the records every day to show that we have not left.

Now I work in Limerick, I do not get paid but I work in a community cafe twice a week. I'm only a volunteer as I'm not allowed to earn money. I don't want to return to my country it is still dangerous people don't believe me because the war is now not so bad, but my brother was imprisoned in my country, and I left so young that if I come back, I will also be imprisoned. I will be in grave danger.

We have not done anything criminal

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project by Nicola Anthony

I have been here now for four years eight months in direct provision, in Mount Trenchard.

I have a friend here and I can tell you his story. He is from Iran. My friend he applied for asylum and the Iranian government kept him in prison for one year. In Ireland he has now been kept for 14 months in this open prison called ‘direct provision’. He says “I want to apply somewhere else” it is worse than being in prison, being held here in Direct Provision accommodation, with no way out, such bad conditions, and no means to work, earn, or pay taxes. We want to be part of society, but the direct provision centres are placed outside of villages, far away so we cannot mingle. We are allowed out but we have a curfew. We call it open prison. We have not done anything criminal.

I got disconnected from my comfort zone of family, friends, and familiar environment

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project by Nicola Anthony

My naturalisation journey was long, mentally draining - Draining because my children had to pay the price for decisions they didn't make. But on a positive note I learned to be positive in all situations.

I got disconnected from my comfort zone of family, friends, and familiar environment, but I learnt a new culture, met a diversity of people. I learnt to differentiate a village in Africa to that in Ireland. A village in Africa is situated in very rural countryside with no electricity and no water system. The dwellers are often uneducated with no regular income but depend on labour earned income.

A village in Ireland is a one point stop for all the basic services one requires for daily living. You find a shop, pharmacy, bank facilities, restaurants and bars, community halls. For Africans It takes a community to raise a child while in Ireland it is a responsibility of the parent - if you don't do it right your child end up in state-based care. My journey has been an adventure.

This is why I say that Voodoo exists

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project

So I tell you the story of this relative, do you know how he died? Through voodoo! So he sold alcohol and drinks in Ghana, in coke bottles, he sold them in bottles, from the back of a motorbike. When he was taking one of the bottles out it exploded and it cut him, it cut him on the leg. He got a rag and covered the cut so it wouldn’t make a mess on his wife’s kitchen floor. That guy sat there and he bled to death, it was like joke! He sat down and died from a cut on his leg!

So he died and in Ghana, in my tribe, we have big rituals so I went for his funeral. They preformed the rituals and everything and then, the ritual was held in the city and they had to take him to the village about 200km away. When they finished the ritual, he had two daughters and a wife, they were taking the corpse to the place they were to bury, and about 150m from the venue of rituals the car stopped. It couldn’t move! What was happening? The driver said it’s a mechanical problem, they had to fix it, so he got down and they checked everything. Nothing wrong with this car! For us, we don’t waste time attributing it to spirituality or voodooism.  We said no, it means that his ghost was not happy and something needed to be done. Quickly, they called an ambulance to come and pick the body, they moved the body to new ambulance and the new ambulance stopped, it also would not move! The new ambulance would not move!! They said no, if that is the case we need to preform rituals to appease, he was angry because it wasn’t his time to die, he wanted revenge, they took the casket carried it on their shoulders from the venue, and then the car moved, the same cars that couldn’t move, they moved when the casket was on their shoulders, they moved and they followed the casket.

So it’s a big show, they sing, sing, sing, bring the schnapps, they pour the libations, throw them, they do the incantations.

They tell they are sorry but now he has power to act anywhere, do anything he wants to do, whatever, whoever is responsible, he should allow them to bury, the folks tell him these things.

Guess what two weeks after, one of the people in the village he was on a farm, he was pierced by a trap. His feet got swollen, and he was dyeing. He confessed! He was the one responsible for the man’s death, through voodoo!

Why would you admit to killing someone? When he is going to die he confesses! This is why I say that voodoo exists!

I have grown out of pain to see beauty in everything that happens

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project

I went to the village with my mum, and when we came back, I go to a public toilet, I felt pain in my toe. I came back and told my mum, she told me I was a bad boy, that I played football and got injured and refused to tell her so she could massage for me. I remember the medicine very well. She bought an ointment called nerve and bone, it didn’t fix it. It was so painful because I dislocated it. Back home in Ghana we had people who were natural healers, I went to one that said we are going to break the foot of a chicken, a live chicken, so if the chicken got healed it means that, hallelujah, I will be healed as well!

Like a voodoo stuff, this is real story!

Thankfully for me they said no, not for dislocation, but the poor chicken did suffer because my mum had already bought a chicken. So probably they said the blood could be moving out of the wrong place. So they would heat very hot water, put the towel inside, then he put his hand in cold water lift the towel and put on my feet. I still have scars from those bangs. They would keep it on my feet to move the blood to position, I was going to senior high school, every time I walked with a limp. I limped because for a very long time it affected my walk, maybe unconscious, I don’t know… It’s a very long story.

So when I went to senior high school, my feet was so warm I was sweating there was pain and I couldn’t walk, so when I went home they sat me down, my feet were sweating like it was I high temperature. So they took me to a healer.

It is the handwork of an evil spirit, of witches, they tied my right foot with herbs, then when we got back from the city my left foot started paining me, so when we got back we had to call him and say look, we disturb the witches and they attacked my left foot so he came down the next day and he tied my right foot and my left foot and then my knee. Voodoo, voodoo, evil spirit! Then my elbow, you see this elbow it still does not straighten fully. So then he tied my jaw and collar-bone, they started hurting, every joint in my body started hurting. I lay in bed for three months, like this. At this moment, deep in my heart I thought I was very close to death. I was in my teens, eighteen or thereabouts.

 And then, that man we realised was not too powerful for the witches so we went to Benin, another country in South Africa. Juju, voodoo, for them it is more of a major religion, so we got these guys from Benin and they said you know what we going to have a meeting with them so give us time. We go for a meeting with the witches to ask them what they want, what they want from me. So they went into the meeting they had a discussion with them. So they figure it was one of my aunties who has become jealous that I am going to become a great man and want to finish me before that time. Before she leaves you, they said, we are going to apply medication to you. So what they did they took a razor and they brought some herbs and black powder so they cut. One, two three and they rub it in on all my joints, I have scars. I am a story man, my life is a living story. I have the scars on my chest, wrist, everywhere, it was very painful, because they mark me with the razor blade and rub it in because they want to leave the scar, then I don’t know how, the pain went down. It worked but it didn’t fix it.

At some point in time I had to ask to speak to dwarves. Its true, everything, all the pains went down but I wasn’t agile for a teenager, I wasn’t vibrant, I have too much energy and I wanted to be agile, but it took too much time to get there, but at this time my mum and my grandma were tired to I had to go searching on my own, I met a guy, my friend had this man who invoked dwarves, like spirits, spirit dwarves. So the guy said don’t worry we will make a meeting between me and the dwarves, he asked to buy a few items, I bought the items and then, he calls them.

Apparently, I tell you this, every spirit, gives you the power to either hear or see them, you may not believe in spirits, for me the first encounter they didn’t give me the power to hear them, subsequent meeting I could hear them a bit , I could not understand, I understand what they say, they say ‘Chris don’t worry we are with you, we will come and stay with you when you are asleep, we will come and operate on you’. They gave me medication, it happens every time I get these attacks. Guess what happens, one time I went to Google and asked what is happening to me, I have this pain, fever, my joint become swelling, and guess what!? Arthritis! I have been through all this pain and torture because I have arthritis. I am not getting medicine for arthritis now, because I have not had a single doctor diagnose that I have arthritis, in Ghana they didn’t have. At the time, everybody was busy blaming that witch, even now I still think it’s the witch because I believe in the supernatural, and I haven’t have any doctor. I still have the pain now, when its cold and the weather s getting cold and the last few days I’ve had cause for alarm. I have had the fever, coldness or rain, is felt first by the blood, by arthritis, my friend always ask me why I wear the jacket.

But I don’t have a medical card. That is how worse my life is getting, I don’t have the medical card. If I sit down and get up I hear the noise in my knee, I think my bones are beginning to scratch at each other. So yesterday, guess what, I wrote a letter because when I sent my application for medical card, I needed a doctor to sign for me, so I sent them, but HSE wrote to me and said look we are holding onto your application until you can prove that three Doctors have refused. So I wrote the letters and signed them and put them in three envelopes and I posted it yesterday. I hope the doctors will reply the letters but the HSE says after 21 days they will cancel the application if they don’t hear from me.

Arthritis is very painful, really, really painful. For me every experience is a learning experience. I have grown out of pain to see beauty in everything that happens, honestly.

So that you don’t have respect for you collar bone until you have arthritis and you try to wear your socks then you wake up and you say thank you collarbone! I didn’t know you helped me put on socks!

People think it’s just the arms that help you put on socks or shoes but when you want to do an activity, a simple activity, like picking up this pen, I tell you every single bone in your upper body contributes to that!  Imagine having pain in every single bone I have noticed little things like ginger is meant to help when I was in Carrickmines Cross we used to have this driver who had pain in his back and I said you need ginger and then they called me Chris the Gingerman because when someone had pain I would say you need ginger because it was a good remedy for inflammation and pain but I have lost hope in orthodox medicine.

 


More than a physical move, border crossing allows you to make an entire switch to yourself

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project by Nicola Anthony

Borders. Crossing them, escaping from the place I know, finding myself in this curious and thirsty mood of experiencing difference and freedom in this place where I'm a newcomer. I believe that borders have created these feelings in me since I remember. In the last few years, it almost became a necessity for me to run away from routine by making a move to 'somewhere else'. Some more place to discover, to enjoy with a feeling of having to worry about nothing but the wind on your face. One year ago, I turned depressive. In the last months, this urge to escape from what makes me suffer and I feel stuck in has become more and more pressing, until I moved to Dublin. I wanted it, despite the heartbreak caused by leaving my truly loved ones, the ones I never get bored of. However, if you can escape people and events, a disease is something you can not run away from. Things are getting more manageable, but remain far from being fixed. During the last weeks, I have been continuously asking myself the question of what does a 'move' really mean. I found out that for me, rather than an escape, moves and border crossings are mostly a way of taking some distance and put you in a mood of being ready to learn again, from others, from cultures, from differences, from freedom and experiences. More than a physical move, border crossing allows you to make an entire switch to yourself.

It was just a way to delay me and create a barrier

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project by Nicola Anthony

I had an appointment booked at the PPS office in Dublin to acquire a PPS card to enable me to be part of Irish society, and received racist treatment, judgement, blocking me from getting a PPS number even though I have every right to one, and then a complete change of attitude once they realised my company had arranged the appointment for me after an international relocation.

I do not look Irish, I look Asian. After I have witnessed the rudeness to me, the deliberate obstruction of the office staff blocking me from a PPS number, and the rude attitude to others in the waiting room that I also observed, it is my belief that everyone who passes through that PPS office as an immigrant gets treated like 'scum'.

I felt that every effort was made to create a difficult situation that will block or scare or confuse those who are eligible for a PPS number as well as those who are not. I understand that some may be there asking for a PPS and benefits when they are not eligible, but I believe there is a polite, non-personal, non emotional process to determine this without creating fictional barriers, without judgement and prejudice, and without treating each candidate derisively 'until proven otherwise'.

I don't know if all staff working there have the same attitude as I only interviewed with one person. However, I do know that she had a big sign printed up telling me why I was not eligible, and the information on it was contradictory to what my relocation company (IrishRelo) had told me the requirements were. This means that the PPS office is giving out different and incorrect information, not the factual information that the relocation companies advise on and as the policies are set out.

I will explain what actually happened step by step:

  1. I have moved to Ireland with my husband who works for a corporate here, we are married so I require a PPS for tax purposes, I was also asked for PPS by my landlord (so I think you need it for renting but I am not sure), and I also want to learn to drive so I needed it for a provisional driving license.

  2. My husband went for his appointment separately to me, accompanied by Irish Relo, and he is a tall white guy - rarely running into discrimination! His experience was very pleasant, smooth, and friendly. I was not expecting anything different as I also had the paperwork from Irish relo, had gone through their checklist of what to bring, and arrived with my marriage certificate etc.

  3. When I spoke to the person in charge of my appointment, she was very rude and abrupt, I told her that my husband and I just moved over, the details of his company and that I would need the PPS for marriage tax and tax purposes, as well as to learn to drive.

  4. She said that I cannot get a PPS number unless I have proof that I need one. I showed her the marriage certificate and she said this is not proof. I showed her emails from his company and she said that this does not mean that I require a PPS or am entitled to one, just because he is working.

  5. I mentioned that I would not be able to do simple things like go to the doctors or take driving lessons if I did not have a PPS, but she said I would need proof that I am learning to drive.

  6. I explained again that I need a PPS simply to apply for the Irish provisional license so I would not be able to have proof yet - I asked what would be considered proof in my case, and she said a driving license application form. I said this was ridiculous as it takes 1 minute to download and print one and anyone can print one - it is not proof one way or the other so why did I need to provide this? It was just a way to delay me and create a barrier.

  7. I pulled out the checklist I had printed off, that Irish Relo had given me stating (in the PPS office's invite letter) the list of items I needed to have with me, and I checked off each one as present. She took the list off me and threw it in her bin, and I demanded it back.

  8. She kept saying that I need to go and get proof, and would have to arrange another appointment (which would take 1-2 weeks)

  9. Finally, I managed to point out to her that Irish Relo had sent me, at which point she suddenly realised that I should not be categorised in her mind as 'immigrant' aka 'undeserving person', but as 'high earning expat, working for a corporate'. In that moment her whole expression and demeanour changed, and suddenly she was as helpful as she could be. She produced a blank driving license application form which she had a pile of in her draw, and told me to add my name. She processed my paperwork and issued a PPS number. Why was I getting this different treatment now? Why was I a diffent case in her eyes?

  10. I was grateful that I had managed to break through her wall of prejudice, but I was so saddened at the stark contrast between her treatment of me when she had categorised me as one thing or the other, and the different treatment towards my white husband. It showed me a very two-faced organisation who, given their purpose and their audience, should surely be regulated on their treatment of people and be trained to keep a neutral response.

Whatever is happening here, and whether or not she has on other occasions been right about non-eligibility for a PPS number, there was no need for such an attitude of prejudice, derision and disparagement. I was saddened as I looked around the room and saw others who may have had much more difficult journeys to get to Ireland than I have, may need the PPS number much more than I do, and now have to face the belittling attitude of this woman as one of their first 'welcomes' into the country. Potentially other administrators have the same checklist (it was a printed out list in shouting capital letters with an official logo). I believe the checklist itself was incorrect and should not be allowed as they are the official issuing office of the PPS.

I also observed lots of processes that cause anger, annoyance and dismissive behaviour in the staff and the visitors - for example all who book appointments are given set times, (mine was 10.15), and then told to wait - we have to go in to the booth when our time-slot comes up. There was no communication that they were running over an hour late, they did not call the name of the next appointment, there was no ticket-line system, and people keep getting up worrying that they had missed their appointment or that someone else has skipped ahead. I was lucky that english is my first language and I could approach a staff member to ask, and I could also be brave enough to ask those around me and understand that they were ahead of me in the queue. Others were not feeling so brave - Especially for those who are nervous, or did not have English as their first language, this was extremely confusing. By time people get into their appointment an atmosphere of stress, worry, impatience and confusion has been created in the applicants. Meanwhile an 'observation' of how rude and impatient immigrants are, is being constantly reinforced in the minds of the administrators - surely these processes could be evolved for a better experience for all rather than fostering racism from day one?

A world without borders is what we should strive for

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project by Nicola Anthony

Originally from a small town I have mostly lived in big cities in many countries all my adult life. I carry with me memories of inspirational people from many places and an awareness that now more than ever a world without borders is what we should strive for.

Citizen of the universe

This is an anonymous story collected from the public as part of the Human Archive Project by Nicola Anthony

I jokingly call myself a citizen of the universe. Ireland is my third home after moving here more than 10 years ago. Though I love living here, I am not fully satisfied with my life. As I am getting older, I start to feel that I do not have strong roots and therefore do not belong... does this make me sad? Some days it sure does. I chose a hard path - immigration. Did I have some wonderful adventures? Absolutely! I met amazing people along that path and made great friends. But that lack of a sense of belonging keeps bothering me...