Janine GriffithsFor Govand Musa Khalaf, the struggle didn’t end when she arrived in Britain—it only changed form. A highly educated Kurdish-Syrian woman who once worked as a legal assistant in Iraq’s Human Rights Commission, she now finds herself trapped in bureaucratic limbo, waiting for an asylum interview that should have happened months ago.
Unlike many asylum seekers who endure perilous journeys to reach the UK, Govand’s arrival was straightforward. “Actually, my arrival was easy and free of difficulties, as I came legally, that is, by plane,” she explains. But what followed was anything but easy. The cost of living, the unfamiliarity of British society, and the lack of financial support for asylum seekers who rent privately have made survival a daily challenge.
Govand, 29, came to Britain with her husband and two young daughters after her husband obtained a student visa. Given the war-torn state of Syria and the looming threat of forced military service for her husband, they made the difficult decision to seek asylum.
Unlike many who are placed in Home Office accommodation, Govand’s family chose to rent a home. “We already suffered from the war and faced enough difficulties, so we decided to rent a house rather than sharing the kitchen and bathroom with other people in Home Office hotels.”
But this choice came with an unexpected cost—exclusion from financial support under Section 95. “Whenever I asked the organisations concerned with the affairs of asylum seekers in order to apply, the first question was whether you are in Home Office accommodation or private rent. When I answered that we rented privately, the answer was that you are not eligible.”
Before the war uprooted her life, Govand had excelled in education. Born into poverty, she taught children in her neighborhood from the age of 12 to fund her schooling. She later won a prestigious scholarship—one of only two recipients across Iraq—to study for a master’s degree in international general law.
Now, despite her qualifications, she remains locked out of the UK job market. “I apply for work every day, but I have not had any opportunity yet,” she says. Instead, she has thrown herself into volunteer work, offering her skills as an interpreter and advisor at organisations such as PAFRAS, Leeds Refugee Forum, Manuel Bravo, and the Red Cross. “Through that I gain experience, make friends, and help my countrymen and the vulnerable people,” she explains.
Despite the hardships, Govand remains determined. “I do not deny that it was difficult at the beginning… I felt like I was in a coma. Everything around me was strange: the faces, the markets, the language, the places. But I did not give up.” She believes language is the key to overcoming these struggles and urges others in her position to volunteer if they cannot find work.
Her ultimate goal is clear: to build a career helping refugees and asylum seekers. “That will allow me to help them—refugees are my field of passion—and prove to everyone that I am that successful Kurdish woman.” But first, she waits. “Here we are, waiting minute by minute, hoping to receive an email regarding the interview.”
