From doomscrolling into the late hours to reliving the scars of the 70s, I can’t help but fear that the immigration debate has unleashed a wave of newly emboldened racism
It’s 3 AM and I can’t sleep. I’m doom-scrolling – and I literally mean doom. The algorithm has me in its prickly, unyielding grasp. Not showing me what I love or what inspires me, but what I fear. What I worry about.
Racism. Rage. Riots. Rampage. Right-winged rants.
Every swipe pries open the lid of a chest I’ve tried to keep locked: childhood memories of NF graffiti on walls; the taunts and threats; a traffic cone hurled at my family in Islington, my father taking the brunt to shield my little brother in his stroller; the day he quit his job because he couldn’t take the prejudice anymore; and the almost daily sneers of “Paki, go home.”
I grew up in Central London in the 1970s – what I call the Golden Era of Racism in England. By calling it that, perhaps I try to relegate it to history, to convince myself we’ve moved on. That we’ve grown wiser, more tolerant, more enlightened.
At least, that’s what I wanted to believe.
Then Brexit happened. Old prejudices, once hidden behind faux smiles and forced politeness, found new confidence. They flared up, briefly, and I hoped it was just a flash in the pan.
But now – after the mass-scale events of the past weekend and the chilling satellite stories of abuse reaching my ears (one Asian couple was ejected from a restaurant with ‘We don’t want your kind in here’ – yes, this happened, in 2025!), it feels like we’re sliding back to the 70s. Half a century on, have we really learned nothing?
The Root of the Anger
I get it. I see why people are angry. Illegal immigrants are being allowed into the country and housed in hotels, while a cost-of-living crisis is crippling families already struggling to survive.
Every nation has the right to control its borders. That’s not up for debate. If you arrive without the right documents, you should be sent back – simple as that. I’ve lived in countries where that’s the unquestioned and fully enforced rule.
But here in the UK, successive governments have failed colossally. They’ve displayed staggering incompetence, dithering instead of dealing with the issue. What should have been handled with quiet efficiency has been allowed to fester, until it exploded into the number one national concern – eclipsing the real crises: the collapsing NHS, the broken economy, the crumbling infrastructures.
And the powers-that-be? They’re not fixing those problems. They’re feeding distractions. Nothing whips up a crowd like the fear of “the other.”
When Anger Becomes Prejudice
So yes, legitimate concerns about immigration policy exist. But they’ve been twisted, conflated, and poisoned. The narrative has morphed into blaming ALL immigrants for ALL the problems.
This despite the fact that immigration has traditionally fuelled the UK economy – bringing skills, talent, workers, investment, and diversity that enriches culture, business and daily lives.
My parents were legal immigrants, naturalised British. I was born here. My children are therefore third-generation Brits in our lineage. And yet, today, I find myself worrying about their safety – physically, mentally, emotionally.
Because prejudice isn’t always shouted in your face. It seeps in, subliminally. People who don’t consider themselves racist start harbouring quiet doubts, mistrust, even resentment.
I’ve felt it in the employment market, where I lost roles I was more than qualified for – rising through every stage of recruitment until, at the last hurdle, someone decided to “go in a different direction.” The unspoken truth? Hiring a brown Muslim called Sheikh was not on.
What Needs to Change
Protesters with genuine concerns about government incompetence should absolutely hold leaders accountable. But they must also recognise the collateral damage being done to their neighbours – diverse communities who share the same struggles, wave the same flags, and are not the enemy.
Because when anger spills onto anyone with skin of a darker hue or different identifying features, it empowers genuine racists. It emboldens them. And it fractures society in ways that hurt everyone.
Meanwhile, the elites – the politicians and faux-leadership mouthpieces – pretend they’re on your side. They’re not. They’re selling you a dummy. They’re dividing you while serving only themselves.
The Choice We Face
In the early hours of the morning, lost in the cesspit of social media negativity, I feel myself sinking into the same trap. But I can’t. We can’t.
We must be better than this. We can rise above the false narratives. Look around you, see beyond the bias, accept each other for what we really all are: regular people, trying to get by, no matter our race, creed, culture or religion.
Look hard at the other, and you’ll mostly just see a reflection – the same concerns, the same fears, the same joys. There is far more that binds us than divides us.
Let’s remember that. Let’s live by it.
Peace and Love to All.
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