We came here to help, not to take

Olaoluwa Elijah

Two years ago my wife, our child and I left everything familiar behind. I had worked for more than 16 years in my home country, but opportunities had dried up and the economy was failing to reward hard work.

We came to the UK because I wanted to advance my education with a master’s degree and because we believed — genuinely and deeply — that this country offered the chance to build a safe, productive life.

We were drawn by the civility and kindness we had always admired in Britain, and by the idea that our skills could be used where they were needed.

We did not come lightly. So far, our family has spent more than £40,000 on visa fees, travel tickets and tuition besides living costs.

Those figures are not meant to be a complaint — they are a fact. We paid for our place here. We were not looking for handouts. We wanted to work, to learn, to pay our taxes, and to contribute to the communities that welcomed us.

Meaningful 

Soon after arriving, both my wife and I found work in healthcare. The jobs are hard: long shifts, emotional labour, and responsibility for people at their most vulnerable. They are also deeply meaningful.

We are proud to play our part in keeping our community healthy and to fill roles where there is a real shortage of labour. We do not claim benefits; rather, we contribute — in work, in taxes, and in the small kindnesses that make a community function.

Which is why the recent public debate about removing Indefinite Leave to Remain (ILR) fills us with dread.

ILR represents more than a piece of paper: it is the promise that someone who follows the rules, works hard and commits to living lawfully in this country can eventually have stability and peace of mind. To hear politicians talk about scrapping ILR — especially in sweeping terms — is to risk undoing the quiet faith we put in that promise when we left our home, sold what we could, and invested everything in this new life.

I absolutely understand the concerns that drive this debate. No country wants to be overwhelmed by sudden population pressures; public services are under strain, and citizens are rightly worried about resources.

These are legitimate issues that deserve careful policies. But it is important to distinguish between people who come illegally or exploit the system, and those of us who come lawfully, fill essential jobs, and contribute to the public purse. Conflating the two is not only unfair — it risks driving away the very workers who help relieve the pressure on public services.

We planned our lives according to the rules in place when we arrived. We complied with every requirement, every application, every deadline. The continued shifting of immigration policy since we came has been a heavy emotional burden: uncertainty breeds anxiety, sleepless nights and, at times, depression. It is a peculiar cruelty to ask people to give everything for the chance of a stable life and then to suggest that the rules might be changed so that those sacrifices count for nothing.

Common sense 

If the UK is to reform its immigration rules, I ask only for fairness and common sense in how changes are applied. There are some basic principles I hope politicians and policymakers will adopt:

First, no retrospective stripping of rights. People who are already here in good faith and following the law must not be punished by sudden changes. If the rules change, they should apply only to new applicants or include robust transitional protections for those already on a path to settlement.

Second, clear and timely guidance. Uncertainty is as damaging as any policy change. If a government proposes new measures, it should publish immediate, plain-language guidance explaining precisely who will — and will not — be affected. That would spare many families the waking fear of losing everything they have built.

Third, recognition of contribution. Policymakers should acknowledge that legal migrants in essential sectors — health and social care, education, and others — are providing a public good. Policies that make their position precarious risk exacerbating the very shortages the country needs to fix.

Finally, human-centred debate. Immigration is ultimately about people’s lives and futures. Public discussion must move beyond slogans and headlines and consider the human cost of sweeping proposals. Stories matter: the more policymakers and the public hear about families who came legally, paid for their place, and now serve the community every day, the better the policy outcomes will be.

We do not ask for special treatment. We simply ask that the sacrifices we made are respected, that the law is applied fairly, and that our contribution is recognised. My wife and I come to work each day because we care about the people we serve and because we want to be part of the society we now call home. We came to help, not to take. Please, for the sake of fairness and for the many families like ours, do not punish those already here.

Olaoluwa lives in Bangor, Gwynedd, with his wife and child. He works in the healthcare sector and is currently on a legal immigration pathway to settlement in the UK.