Inside Direct Provision: Why The Controversial System Needs To Finally End

If you were forced to flee your home due to conflict, war, or human rights abuses, you might hope the place you sought asylum would be safe, fit for purpose, and equipped to handle your case. If you left your home country in search of a better life, you might be surprised to end up in a system that has been dubbed ‘degrading’ and ‘inhumane.’ Such is the reality for the thousands of people currently living in direct provision – Ireland’s heavily criticised asylum and protection seekers system. 

Sandra* has lived in three direct provision centres since arriving in Ireland four years ago. She has always shared her living spaces with groups of strangers, and often had problems with hygiene and privacy. Her current accommodation, she says, is “the worst” so far. She tells STELLAR: “I was transferred from the hospital with my six day old baby to a room full of bugs. My first night in the room, there wasn’t hot water, there was no water in the bathroom and there were massive holes in the walls. When the resident living above me showers it comes down the roof of my bathroom. When I made complaints to the manager and to IPAS (International Protection Accommodation Services), the responses I got were depressing.” 

Direct provision was set up in Ireland as a ‘temporary’ measure in 2000. A response to the ever-growing number of people seeking refugee in Ireland, the system planned to provide state accommodation and other basic necessities like food and healthcare to those seeking international protection for a short period. People who arrived at direct provision centres (usually hotels, hostels, and other ‘group’ forms of accommodation) were told that they would remain there for a maximum of six months, while their asylum application was processed. Instead, many individuals, families, and children have remained in the system for years at a time, often living with strangers, in conditions that have been described as ‘unfit’ and even ‘cruel.’ 

Failures 

Direct provision centres tend to be located in rural areas, isolated communities that often do not allow for a normal life. Many asylum seekers fleeing conflict and war are already dealing with trauma and PTSD, issues that are only compounded by their new living conditions in Ireland. A first-time mother and living in a room clearly not fit for purpose, Sandra says she complained multiple times about her accommodation. It was only when she made videos documenting her experience and mentioned her declining mental health that she was moved to a new room. 

“Any time I finish work my mood changes because I’m going back to direct provision,” Sandra says. “I didn’t know what I was doing as a first time mom. I cried every night, sent emails and all I got [told] was to go talk to my GP about my mental health. I’m presently on antidepressants because of the experience in this accommodation.” (In response to STELLAR’s request for comment, the Department of Integration said that IPAS is “always available to deal with any complaints from residents” but that “response times may be delayed in some cases as the Helpdesk receives over 500 queries per week which are replied to in order of receipt with very urgent or extremely serious incidents prioritised in so far as possible.”)

Amnesty International’s Campaigns Officer Kevin Naughton says that direct provision has been a failure because, as its name suggests, the system provides some basic necessities, but ignores others. “It doesn’t consider other rights like dignity and privacy,” he says. “A lot of people have problems in relation to who they’re sharing their space with. There’s social issues, there’s conflict, and a lot of these problems often aren’t addressed. 

“They’re living in very isolated communities. Not all direct provision centres are in rural locations, but a lot of them are. Children are brought to school and brought back, and it’s very difficult to have a childhood if you’re living in the middle of nowhere. People are provided with food but they can’t cook their own meals in a lot of these places. Very basic needs are being met, but other basic rights are not being met.” 

To raise awareness of these restrictions, Sandra joined the My Rights, My Privacy campaign; a project amplifying the voices of those living in direct provision. Supported by ActionAid Ireland and African migrant women’s advocate group AkiDwA, the campaign showcases the reality for many women living in the system – from having their private post opened, the unannounced inspection of rooms, strict accommodation curfews, and having to share their living space – and even bedrooms – with strangers. One woman reported having to share a bathroom with six other people while she was pregnant. It was only after she miscarried that she was given her own room for a short period, before eventually being moved back to another shared space. 

Elsewhere, there have been complaints around food quality, unavailable dietary requirements, centre staff attitudes and communication, racism and intimidation, access to healthcare facilities, delays in access to medical cards, lack of cooking facilities, lack of childcare facilities, and the safety of children in general. A 2017 report from the Department of Justice found that many children felt “unsafe” in direct provision centres, and that their living conditions were “dirty.” Many residents reported actively not making complaints for fear of being labelled a ‘troublemaker’ or ‘difficult.’ 

Misconceptions 

As it stands, over 20,000 people are currently living in direct provision and emergency international protection accommodation in Ireland. Out of the 3,660 adults who have secured status to remain in the country (and are currently living in one of the 38 direct provision centres), 63% are employed. When direct provision first began, those living under the system were not permitted to work at all. This rule has since changed, although with certain stipulations attached and a six month wait upon arrival before an application can be made. 

Scientist and model Pamela Uba says that one of the main stereotypes asylum seekers face in Ireland is the assumption that they are here to “live off the government” – a claim that the above statistics, and she herself, contradict. Pamela grew up in direct provision, mostly in Co Mayo. After moving to Ireland from South Africa with her family, the former Miss Ireland spent a lot of her childhood in the system, eventually leaving it when she was in college. She says that her education was a major help in getting her through the oftentimes difficult experience, “I put my head down and focused on the light at the end of the tunnel. I wanted to be well equipped when the time came to leave.”

She says: “College is one of those things that everyone’s so excited for, and I was excited, but I also knew I’d be limited. I was still in direct provision for the first half of my course, and I really relied on the fact that my college was in a big city. I really enjoyed the food festivals in particular, because I was literally given my dinners [in direct provision]. I had no money and there was no way for me to get money. I won a singing competition at one point and that paid my next month’s rent. That’s what I was doing, I was trying to survive.” 

Pamela may be best known for making history as the first Black Miss Ireland, but she’s also an actress, a content creator, and a medical scientist. “I spent so much of my time studying, I worked throughout the pandemic,” she says. “I helped my friends and my community. You can be a hard worker, and find yourself between a rock and a hard place, and need that extra bit of help landing on your feet. People are more than what their current situation is.” 

Published in 2021, the government’s White Paper on direct provision set out the plan to finally end the system by 2024. The proposed new model would focus on “integration from day one and supporting applicants to live independently,” with protection seekers being housed in ‘reception centres’ for a maximum of four months, before being moved to accommodation within the community. The new scheme promised to focus on privacy and independence, and would be operated on a not-for-profit basis. 

Broken promises 

However, Minister for Integration Roderic O’Gorman has since said that this initial plan will now not be feasible and that a revised White Paper will be published soon. Amnesty’s Kevin says that an update – and more importantly, movement – is needed urgently. “There has been huge pressure put on the system generally due to the large number of asylum and protection seekers coming from Ukraine,” he says. 

“We’ve been telling the government that we understand that strain, but now is the time to reflect and come up with a sustainable model that is based on human rights. There’s a resource problem at the moment, it takes so long to go through everyone’s application. We’re hoping that a new plan will urgently provide more details and clear timelines for an alternative.”

Kevin goes on: “We don’t have a refugee crisis, we have a housing crisis. We need the government to invest in state run accommodations. And these must include those seeking asylum and protection. At the moment, direct provision is paid for by the government but run by private companies. They need to take more ownership in terms of designing a plan.” 

In December, the government announced that they would no longer be able to provide accommodation to all international protection applicants due a severe shortage. This meant that many asylum seekers faced living outside during the winter period, supplied only with tents and sleeping bags. This continued lack of suitable and sustainable living conditions is something that Sandra is all too familiar with – and that she hopes will change sooner rather than later. “A lot has to change,” she says. “We are just asking for our voices to be heard, and to be treated like human beings.

“An Irish taxi driver once said to me while taking me to the direct provision centre: ‘You are living the life in a hotel, I wish I had that kind of life.’ I made it clear to him that it’s not what it seems on the outside. I asked him if he could share a hotel room with two other people, share a kitchen with more than 30 people and live off €38.80 a week? He was speechless. Irish people have misconceptions about direct provision. I don’t enjoy living here, I want to have my own privacy without anyone coming to my house unannounced, without [staff] knocking or going through my post. I want to do laundry when I want to and have a dining table to eat.” 

Find out more about how you can help those living in direct provision at amnesty.ie and actionaid.ie. 

This article first appeared in the January/February issue of STELLAR magazine. 

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