MAMA STELLA'S STORY
One woman’s fight for justice inside the UK immigration system
Story: Stella Shyanguya
Writer and producer: Mary Cruse
Stella is a student, carer and human rights advocate living in West Yorkshire. In her early 50s, Stella has kind eyes and a ready smile. She radiates warmth and gentle dignity, speaking slowly and with precision as she relays her story.
"I am a grandmother of seven and a mother of three,” she smiles. “Although through my immigration journey, I have acquired a lot of children. You will hear me being referred to as Mama Stella — not because they are my birth children, but children whom I have acquired as we have gone through adversity together.
“It is a title that I enjoy and I love to have."
A British citizen born in France, Stella spent almost a year imprisoned in Yarl’s Wood immigration detention centre. She was only released after a court found that the Home Office had detained her unlawfully.
Stella is still fighting for justice today, almost 10 years later.
"I think now it is getting a little bit easier to talk about it,” she says. “It just conjures up a lot of feelings, not very good feelings. Feelings of sadness, feelings of loss, feelings of worthlessness.
“But I think these are stories that should be told. These are stories that must be told."
This is Stella’s story.
PART 1:
The nightmare begins
A life upended
Stella was legally British when she was taken into immigration detention for the first time.
Although she came to the UK from Nairobi, Stella was born and spent much of her childhood in Paris.
“Sometimes when I don't want to engage with people, I plead the fifth and I say English is not my first language,” she smiles. “It’s not even my second! The first language I spoke was French and then I spoke Swahili before even learning English.”
Stella came to the UK in her early 20s, fleeing an abusive marriage. Determined to start anew, she set up a business in London, importing traditional Kenyan baskets, beads and sisal bags, known as kiondo. For a time, everything was good. But then Stella received horrifying news.
Her flatmate had been charged with supplying Class A drugs, and though she was not directly involved, the police believed she had known what was going on. She was sentenced to 7 years in prison.
“Before that, I always believed in the justice system,” she says. “But I was convicted despite not being involved. And that act went on to shape the rest of my life.”
As soon as she finished serving her sentence, Stella was deported back to Kenya and straight into the hands of her abusive husband.
During this time, she was subjected to extreme abuse and torture, leaving her with lifelong mental and physical scars.
Thanks to her French documentation, Stella ultimately escaped once again and returned to the UK, where she set about creating a home for herself. She was finally granted British citizenship after many years of living and working in England.
But this milestone was only the beginning of Stella’s struggles with the UK immigration system.
“It all began when I applied for a British passport,” Stella explains.
“That is when my immigration nightmare started”.
Stella had been using her French documentation for many years, but now that she was legally a British citizen, she wanted a British passport. She thought it would be a simple process — the Home Office had already verified her documents when granting her citizenship. And yet, she was surprised to find that her application was rejected.
“They said no, because they thought that my French documentation was fraudulent,” Stella explains.
“This is documentation that the Home Office checked before I was granted British citizenship. They said it was okay then. But afterward, they changed their mind and said, no, no, I was here illegally and my document was not right.”
Thus began Stella’s battle to convince the Home Office of the validity of her documentation and, by extension, her British citizenship.
“It went on for years,” Stella explains. “I was taken to court and convicted of holding false instruments. I was even sent to HMP Holloway for five months, until the immigration officer there ruled that I was being wrongly detained and released me.”
After the prison’s immigration officer stepped in to overturn her sentence, Stella was free to live life as an ordinary British citizen once again.
“This was in 2009,” she recalls. “After I was released, everything was okay for a while. I was working. I was doing everything normally until 2015, when I received a letter from the Home Office saying I needed to start attending regular meetings, known as ‘reporting conditions’, with the immigration authorities.”
Stella’s doctor challenged the demands, noting that Stella was both physically and mentally unwell and not in a position to manage the strain. But it was no use.
"One day, I was driving to a medical appointment, and I noticed some sirens behind me,” Stella recalls. “So as you would give way to an emergency vehicle, I stopped, and the police car came and stopped right behind me.”
“I was asked for identification. I gave my identification, and then I was asked to go and sit into their vehicle. When I sat in the vehicle, I was told that the Home Office had asked the police to detain me."
PART 3:
Life inside
Stella is taken to immigration detention
Stella was sent to Yarl’s Wood — an immigration detention centre in Bedfordshire that specialises in detaining women, children and families. It is one of seven such centres in the UK, housing a portion of the ~20,000 people who are taken to immigration detention every year.
"It was a very difficult time,” Stella recalls of her captivity in Yarl’s Wood. “Nobody prepares you for detention. It was so bad."
“We were subjected to very cruel comments from the guards. They have this mentality of: ‘you are detained, you must have done something wrong. That is why you're here, and so I can treat you however I want.’
“You'd hear things like: ‘Oh, where are we removing you to? Where are we deporting you to’. Such comments were meant to ignite a reaction.”
Stella’s experiences are horrifying, but not unique. An undercover Panorama investigation and the subsequent Brook House inquiry revealed widespread abuse in UK immigration detention facilities.
“We were constantly surveilled,” Stella continues. “They detain you for a long time, but they do not want you to form any friendships. You are removed from family, you're removed from friends, you're removed from familiarity.
“It is mental torture, and there is no scale that can measure it. There's no scale.”
This harsh reality stands in stark contrast to community-based alternatives to detention, which allow migrants and refugees to live within the community while their immigration cases are processed.
Under this model, people have access to support services, such as legal aid or a dedicated case worker, and they have the right to work and access education while they await the outcome of their case.
Community placement is not only more humane and compassionate than detention, it is also far cheaper and more effective.
For Stella, being held in immigration detention was one of the darkest points in her life. But she found comfort in helping the other women at Yarl’s Wood.
“When I was in detention, I found that there were ladies who, although they were educated, had no clue of how to write a legal letter or present their case.”
Stella had experience as a legal secretary and her years of interacting with the Home Office had left her with an intricate understanding of UK immigration law.
“So I started helping people,” she explains. “Some of the ladies would treat me suspiciously thinking I was working for the immigration system. But others started coming to me to help them write legal letters. I had a single cell, and it was considered a legal surgery, and the women came to my surgery.”
“Sometimes, the girls would say: ‘We can't understand, if you're a British citizen, what are you doing here?’ And then some of them would say: ‘I think you were brought here for our sake’.
“I’d find sort of a satisfaction in that, you know? Yes, okay, I was brought there so that I could help women fight for their rights and to be brought back to their families.”
During her time at Yarl’s Wood, Stella helped advocate for dozens of people and her assistance led to the release of several women, but it also attracted negative attention from the Home Office.
"They threatened to move me to a different detention centre because I was helping people to write letters,” she laughs incredulously. “They will come up with all sorts of things just to ensure that you're not helping people.”
Why does Stella believe the Home Office reacted so strongly to her advocating for other women in Yarl’s Wood?
“Because they know what they are doing is not right,” she responds. “They know that if people had an equal chance of proper legal representation or just somebody explaining their case for them, the outcome would be quite different from just a refusal and an ‘Okay, bye bye. Off you go’.
“So there were good times and bad times,” she reflects.
“The times when I supported women to get released, it gave me a sense of belonging. Because even though I was fighting for my life, I did not just sit on my laurels. I helped other women.”
PART 3:
Bittersweet freedom
The lasting scars of detention
It took over nine and a half months for Stella’s case to come before a court. And when it did, the judge ruled that the Home Office had unlawfully detained her at Yarl’s Wood.
“When I found out that I was to be freed, it was a mixture of emotions,” she recalls. “Having been there for so long, you tend to feel hopeless. And it was bittersweet. Sweet, that I was going to have my freedom once more, but bitter because I was leaving other women still in that situation.”
“Because they become like your sisters,” she continues. “You are fighting a common enemy, and you are united by this cause. Suddenly I was going to be free, but I was leaving them behind.”
Stella was finally released from Yarl’s Wood in October 2016, but her life would never be the same
"After detention, you're displaced,” she explains. “You find you've lost your accommodation. Your family is scattered, and you’re trying to rebuild those bonds. It is not easy.
“Although my time has stopped, the rest of the world has moved on."
In 2024, Stella remains a British citizen without access to a British passport. She occupies a liminal space — legally naturalised, but deprived of the liberties afforded to other British people.
“I am allowed to work, to study, but not to travel. The only documentation I have is a driver's licence. That is all I hold.”
Many years on from her harrowing experience at Yarl’s Wood, Stella’s quest for justice continues. Working with a team of lawyers, she is trying to force the Home Office to be held accountable for her arrest, the years of harassment and unlawful detention.
In January 2024, the department finally admitted to wrongfully imprisoning Stella and offered compensation. "But how do you put a figure to wasted years, failed opportunities, families scattered, important milestones missed?” she asks.
“When my brother died, I had to send his remains back to Kenya, where his family was. I was not even allowed to attend my brother's funeral. I lost my mother last year. I was not able to go to Kenya to pay my mum her last respects. How do you equate that to a monetary value? You can't… you can't."
Stella's problems with the Home Office prevented her from attending the funerals of her brother and mother in Kenya
The impact of detention continues to ripple through Stella’s life. As well as the practical limitations she is under, the ordeal has left her with unseen scars.
Many people experience long-term trauma associated with immigration detention even after leaving custody, and for Stella, this manifests as a gnawing anxiety that never quite dissipates.
“When I was bailed, I was given reporting conditions,” she says. “I had to go and report a long, long way from here every week, and every time I went to report I was so anxious that I would be detained again.”
Stella’s fear is not wholly unfounded. As part of the previous government’s ill-fated Rwanda plan, a number of migrants and people seeking asylum were arrested when they attended routine immigration appointments and held for deportation.
“I’ve heard from people who said immigration officers would knock on their doors after release. There are times when I hear a loud knock and it brings up that fear. ‘Oh, my goodness, who is that? Is it a friend or is it a foe?’
“I'm forever afraid of doors closing,” she goes on. “For the first three years after detention, I could not stand doors closing. I had to have my doors open. I have claustrophobia. And still when I see a police uniform, it makes me jump — it makes my heart jump. Those are things that your body just reacts to, relating to how you've been treated."
Even now, Stella is still grappling with the impact of detention on her life. It has changed her in ways that are difficult to articulate.
“I don't know for how long I will experience the effects of detention… I just don’t know.”
EPILOGUE
Life after detention
Stella's message to the world
These days, Stella's life centres around her schooling, work and her religion. Alongside studying for a masters degree in artificial intelligence, she cares for elderly people. It’s work Stella enjoys.
“When I got into full time caring, I didn't realise that all my adult life I had been a carer. Looking after my children, my parents, my brother; I had always done some sort of caring. It's something that comes naturally to me.”
Stella remains a passionate advocate for the rights of people impacted by immigration detention. She serves on the board of trustees for Beyond Detention, a non-profit that provides emotional and practical support to people detained in and released from Yarl’s Wood. It’s a mission she cares deeply about.
“Not a lot of people know about what is happening in the UK with immigration detention,” she says. “Immigration, for them, is people coming on the boats. But they don't see the other side.
“Refugees are not only being harmed in Syria or in Israel and Palestine. It's happening here. And just because you don't see the violence happening, it does not mean it’s not happening.”
Asked about her message for people reading her story, Stella was clear:
“You know, it's very easy to be bitter — very easy. But it is just one department that is doing this. It is not everybody.
“I'd like people to look next door to them. You may not realise it, but you know an immigrant. You know an asylum seeker. You know a refugee. People come here, they have professions, they are well educated. Give them a chance to be meaningful members of society.
“Put yourself in their place. How would you like to be treated if you suddenly woke up and were a refugee, an immigrant or, indeed, an immigration detainee?”
Stella pauses and takes a deep breath. There is a look of weary determination in her eyes — a look that is born from decades of having to fight for every right, every freedom she is entitled to.
"Let's make a change,” she says. “I may not be here to see that change, but I'd like one day to be remembered and for people to say: ‘Oh, this woman spoke, and from her speaking, we took action’.
“So let’s make a change.”
TAKE ACTION
IDC is the world’s leading movement to end immigration detention.
Through policy change, IDC has helped prevent human rights abuses and secured a brighter future for refugees, migrants and their families all over the world.
Join us and help make immigration detention history.
Factsheet: Immigration Detention in the UK
Immigration detention is the practice of imprisoning, detaining or otherwise restricting the freedom of a person while they await decisions on their right to stay and live in a country.
The United Kingdom is the only Western European country to have no limit on how long people can be imprisoned in immigration detention.
The UK's recent Illegal Migration Act gives the government new powers to detain unaccompanied children.
Immigration detention has fewer safeguards than criminal detention, which means that there is less due process for people who are detained.
In the financial year 2021-22, the Home Office issued a record number of compensation payments for unlawful immigration detention, totalling around £13 million.
Repeated pilots and research have found that community-based alternatives to detention are safer, cheaper and more effective for case resolution.
Further reading
IDC has a wide range of research in our publications library, including data on the success of alternatives to detention and an overview of promising practices around the world.
Other key resources include the Global Detention Project, where you can view key data on each country’s immigration detention practices, UNHCR’s detention reports, which detail progress and practices in key countries, and the IOM’s World Migration Report, which covers key migration data and issues.
Image credits:
With thanks to Stella Shyanguya for personal photographs
1. Notice to Detainee letter, Courtesy of Freedom from Torture
2. Yarl's Wood aerial, Courtesy of Yarl's Wood
3. Royal Courts of Justice, Courtesy of Mike Peel
4. Immigration enforcement van, Courtesy of Andy Thornley
5. Immigration enforcement officer, Shutterstock
6. Woman detained at Yarl's Wood, Shutterstock
7. Child refugee in mother's arms, Shutterstock
8. Bibby Stockholm barge, Shutterstock
9. Lady Justice statue, Unsplash
10. Immigrant group attending English lesson, Shutterstock