Ali says he wasn’t home when social workers came to tell his wife, Jamileh, that their three-year-old daughter would be removed from their care, but he heard the conversation, the cries of his wife and screams of his child, over the phone.

“My wife was really scared and my child was really scared. She was under the table where they were sitting, screaming: ‘I don’t want to go anywhere,’ and scratching the walls. It was so horrific that the interpreter got really upset,” he says.

That week, Ali and Jamileh, Iranians seeking asylum in the UK, had been told that the Home Office no longer accepted their claim of destitution, which meant they were no longer entitled to housing or financial support and were facing imminent eviction.

“My wife was told: ‘We have got a duty of care towards the child and it’s our responsibility now that you’ve got no roof over your head to look after her. But we have no duty towards you, so you can live anywhere you like, but we’re taking her.’ And they gave us an address to drop the child off. They said: ‘You should bring the child the next day.’”

Charities have told the Guardian of many cases in the last year in which local authorities have told parents they have a duty to house children, but no duty to their parents, despite obligations under section 17 of the Children’s Act to keep families together.

Ali arrived in the UK on his daughter’s third birthday, in September 2015, and claimed asylum. He says he fled Iran after receiving death threats for his political work. His wife and daughter, Leila, came with him, though they had not been threatened.



Asylum seekers are not allowed to work while claims are pending. Those with access to money are required to support themselves. Those who don’t are entitled to accommodation and a weekly allowance of £36.95 for each person.

Ali’s family claimed destitution and were sent to live in Manchester and then Bury. A few months after their arrival they were told their claim of destitution had been rejected. The Home Office claimed an old bank card in Jamileh’s name and a house in Iran belonging to Ali were proof they had means to support themselves. (The Home Office later accepted that they were not.) The family were given two days to move out of their accommodation.

Ali and Jamileh did not hand Leila over, but were instead helped by Tim Cheprasov, the pastor of Bury baptist church. Cheprasov took them to the home of a family in his congregation, with whom they lived for a month. After this they lived in a succession of different places until the Home Office accepted they really were destitute, and reinstated support.

A spokesman for Bury council said: “Without any details about the family you mention, we do not recognise either the specific circumstances of this matter or the general practice.

“We would always assess the situation in line with the Children’s Act and provide services dependent upon the assessed needs of the children. General practice, for which there are many examples, has been to provide temporary accommodation (generally hotel) during the period of assessment. It is not the practice of the council to seek to separate children from their families solely on the basis on NRPF [no recourse to public funds].”

Ali said his wife was deeply affected by the fear of having her daughter removed from her care. For weeks after they were evicted, Ali says, Jamileh was vomiting and could not sleep. At one point, Ali recalls Leila said to her mother: “Mama, you look scary.”

“From the day that the social services came to the premises my wife just went very, very quiet and from that day she was severely emotional. She had a lump in her throat that she just couldn’t break,” he said.

How you can help refugees and asylum seekers in Britain Read more

Jamileh’s parents convinced her that staying in Britain was too stressful and she and Leila have since returned to Iran, where they are waiting for Ali to hear the result of his asylum claim. If he is granted leave to remain, he will then have to apply to bring them over to the UK under family reunion provisions.

“My daughter has a very bad memory of England,” says Ali. “Some English tourists were visiting a restaurant [in Iran] and she heard them and she hid under the table and started screaming: ‘No, they’re going to take me away.’ She gets asked: ‘Do you want to come and see Daddy?’ She cries: ‘No, I don’t want to go back there.’ Unfortunately she’s been scarred by this.”

Ali adds: “The reason I fled the country was to have a safe, comfortable life alongside my family, not wake up to a threat – who’s going to come in and arrest me? Who is going to take me away? I fear for my life, so I have to be here. I’d love to be next to my child. This is the best time of my child growing up – she’s now talking properly, putting sentences together – and I hate to miss it, but I’ve got no other alternative.”

All names in this article have been changed to protect identities.