My reflection
By the second of April, some of the main doors, such as the work permit, the right to take a rented accommodation, and overseas journeys, were apparently closed. Alone in a country with hardly any people around who were neither experienced nor experts in the matter of immigration. In contrast, I was among the people who took desperate measures to stay in the country through illegal payments and made their stay legal. Even though I was a paying guest, my vulnerability allowed Maya and her family to overstep into my space, and my immigration status became a topic of salivating gossip for everyone. They took it as a mission to bombard me with questions and remarks, which affected me deeply, and I had to take the brunt of it silently.
Apart from being treated as an unpaid housemaid at Maya’s, chasing the lawyer for the draft of the petition, which was suggested by the solicitor himself and took a hefty amount in advance, was taking a toll on me. In that hapless situation, I found relief by sticking to a strict routine: finishing the chores, getting dressed, packing my bag, buying food, studying, and going to the public library until the door closed, then walking down to the church to pray for 30 minutes to 1 hour. Slowly, I started unboxing my PhD proposal, which I had been writing for the past two years along with my work. At the church, I cried profusely in front of Mother Mary for the first few days; my weary soul could connect with the sermons, and the high tides of uncertainty, fear, and confusion gradually came under my control.
During that time, I started talking to Jafrina, whose kind words and thoughts were like an oasis in the desert. I offered to help with her dissertation, and she accepted. This gave me an opportunity to share my cognitive expertise and guide her in completing her dissertation. This incident was tremendously helpful for me in boosting my morale on many fronts. Successfully guiding an MA-level dissertation strengthened my purpose to do the PhD. At Maya’s house, because of my vulnerability, they made every attempt to strip me of my self-respect; I could reclaim my intellectual superiority. Since Jafrina was Maya’s close relative, she understood my cornered situation, as she spent long hours studying with me, and I could even share some of my woes. That sharing gave me some momentary relief.
Before Maya left for vacation, she ensured that she would extract as much as possible from me and played all her tactics to push me to my wit’s end. At that point, you develop a resilience to push back and turn things around, and I was no different. A week later, after they left, my cousin invited me to her home, where the environment was diametrically opposite to the place I was living. I am respected, loved, and cared for. The family gave me the opportunity to study at my own pace while discussing my visa response; my cousin asked, "Why did you come to England to do your PhD?" My answer was yes. The next question was what made me work as a carer; my straightforward answer was just for survival. These questions led me to explore countries where my research proposal aligns, and I found my true purpose.
I am working on the applications; the journey is tedious because of the situation; nevertheless, mentally I have travelled a long way since April. Now, I have my aim, and whatever the result of my visa is, I will pursue my PhD. All I am waiting for is the final reply.
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