I was undecided about whether to put on record the conversation I had with a young Byelorussian I met last night.
But after this and this came to my attention, I feel bound to add this story to the whole sorry UK immigration shame.
He’d promised to try and find us some more Soviet bikes (he’s a bike punk) so I invited him to join us for our traditional Lithuanian dinner.
This guy in his mid-20s is studying here in order to keep away from Belarus – during the protests after the President was re-elected with 80 per cent of the vote, my lad was arrested and spent 10 days in jail. He’s been avoiding the Byelorussian KGB ever since. It’s only 40km away from Vilnius, but it’s like (according to another young Byelorussian who’s staying in our dormitory), a different world. A dictator state: the young people are desperate to leave and make a life for themselves in the 21st Century as there is, for now, little sign of change.
He tells us that a pal of his, same age, is a trained designer and wants to get some experience abroad. He has a job offer from someone in London who he knows, who vouches for him and will pay for his flights and his accomodation and generally ensure that this ambitious young man is looked after while in London.
It cost him £100 to apply for the visa. This is, for Byelorussians, is a phenomenal amount of money – a month’s average salary.
He was turned down, with no reason given and no return of the £100.
He’s stuffed. And all he wants to do is go develop his skills and make a better life for himself.
It stinks, doesn’t it.
