The Life of Ti - The story that broke my heart

As immigration advisors, we develop a certain resilience: we learn to hear traumatising stories while focusing on instructions, all while protecting our own emotional wellbeing. Yet, there is always that one story, that one person, who gets under your skin. Sometimes it triggers something in us; sometimes, we feel an unusually strong empathy for them.
I want to share the story that broke my heart.

The Life of Ti
I met Ti for the first time in May 2025. He came to a homeless centre where he could get food and a shower. He looked unkempt, and his eyes carried a sadness I will never forget. We sat together and began talking about his past. It was difficult for him to find the words to revisit what had happened before his arrival in the UK.

Through tears, Ti explained that his entire family had been murdered in Sudan while he was working in Libya, trying to earn money for them, for their future. The only reason he survived was because he wasn’t home when the incident happened
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The news shattered him. He lost his mind, in his own words, and ran, anywhere. He fled as far as he could, trying to outrun both his homeland and the memories that haunted him. His only goal was to reach Europe, but his journey was far from easy. Later, through his medical records, I learned that he had been enslaved and tortured in Libya before he managed to escape and continue his journey to what he believed would be safety - the United Kingdom.

Ti was rescued from drowning by the UK Coast Guard after the boat he was on capsized. Not everyone was so lucky. Ti watched men, women, and children, die before his eyes.

When I heard this, I thought it was horrific, and I felt relieved that Ti was finally in a safe country, protected from torture and inhuman treatment, with access to healthcare and a decent place to sleep, so that he could begin to rebuild his life and process his trauma. Except…

Once in the UK, Ti claimed asylum and the government shoved him in hotel accommodation. But this was when his mental health began to collapse. Perhaps because, for the first time, he no longer had to fight for survival and the trauma he had buried for so long began to surface.
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He started experiencing flashbacks of the horrors he endured in Libya. He was consumed by loneliness and grief for his family. He began hearing voices, seeing the devil. He believed the hotel was haunted. The voices took over his mind; he was terrified, paranoid, suicidal.

Ti longed for human connection. Ti might have found solace in work - except he wasn’t allowed to work. Ti might have joined English classes - except he did not know of any. His hotel room became his prison and Ti soon became so desperate that he tried to take his own life.

Dear reader, are you shocked by the lack of empathy? Do you wonder how so few saw Ti suffer so profoundly? Why didn’t anyone help him? After all, asylum seeker hotels have receptionists, there are organisations designated to support them, and interpreters are available through services like Migrant Help.

The answer is simple. This is the environment in which people like Ti and countless other migrants live: a system with little empathy, limited care, endless hours waiting and fearing return to the country you’ve fled.

Refugees and migrants are part of our community. They are human beings with rich cultural heritage, skills, knowledge, and wisdom. They are ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances. They are part of our community.

When you read the news about the “invasion of small boats,” remember that these are ordinary people on those boats - people like yourself, once worried about being good parents, meeting pressing deadlines at work, or planning their weekends. They are not invading us; they are arriving to survive.

How we care for the most vulnerable among us reveals the true measure of our humanity. We must show the next generations that love, compassion, and kindness are not just ideals but the very heart of who we are.

We have a responsibility to push back against the myths that strip people of their humanity and to support those who need it. Write, speak, organise, and stand beside people like Ti. Your compassion matters.

If you’d like to support our work, donate here: https://donate.biggive.org/campaign/a05WS00000676OcYAI  ​

Author

Veronika Alblova, Immigration Adviser