Getting to know Asylum Seekers

Observations and thoughts on my time volunteering with displaced people in Cyprus.

In April 2025 I went outside my comfort zone and did something brand new: I spent 2.5 weeks volunteering for Refugee Support Europe (RSE).

It was, quite frankly, one of the best experiences I have ever had and I think it has changed my outlook on the world quite profoundly.

RSE is a charity that helps asylum seekers and refugees in Europe, aiming to offer aid, solidarity and dignity. The charity currently has centres in Bournemouth in the UK and Nicosia in Cyprus but centres will be set up according to need. I went to the RSE Dignity Centre in Nicosia.

Asylum Seekers in Cyprus

Cyprus receives a lot of asylum seekers - partly due to its location and having more favourable policies than nearby territories. According to the Asylum Information Database, in 2024 Cyprus received 8,664 new applicants for asylum and by the end of the year there were 20,576 decisions pending. Considering the size of Cyprus this is very high, however the acceptance rate is low and conditions for these displaced people are difficult.

When an asylum seeker arrives into Cyprus they must ‘declare’ themselves to the authorities. From here, they will generally get sent to a ‘reception centre’ (you and I would refer to these as a camp) where they receive 3 meals a day (although it is widely known that the food is inedible) and live in shipping containers.

After a few weeks, they tend to be discharged from the camps into accommodation. They are given their ‘alien book’ and ‘confirmation letter’, which is the documentation that confirms who they are, where they are from, when they arrived in the country and the fact that they are claiming an asylum case in Cyprus. Passports are taken away until a decision on their case is made, when they will either become a ‘recognised refugee’ or get sent home. At this interim stage, very little help or support is offered by the Cypriot authorities. A decision usually takes years and the amount of time can vary depending on where someone is from. For example, while I was in Cyprus, no decisions were being made on Syrians because the government wanted to wait and see what would happen after the fall of Assad’s regime. If Syria were to be deemed safe again, most Syrians could be facing rejection and being sent back to Syria.

So what did my help look like?

It is when people are discharged from the camps that RSE steps in. The Dignity Centre offers 8 weeks of free food and ongoing support to help them get their lives set up.

RSE’s Dignity Centres are set up to heavily rely on volunteers in order to run on minimal salaried staff - in Cyprus there is only one employee.

A volunteer’s day tends to be split into 2 halves: one in the market and one on reception (plus shopping in the morning and cleaning at the end of the day). They do work us pretty hard!

The market is incredible. It holds essential food, toiletries and cleaning products. Each adult ‘member’ is given 840 points per week to spend, which translates to roughly €8 (bear in mind that Cyprus is a lot cheaper than the UK - that’s probably at least £12 of food here). It really makes a difference. Children under 16 get 420 points and babies under 2 years old are given Pampers. All free of charge. Volunteers in the market help members do their shopping and make sure that everything is logged correctly so that donors and stakeholders receive the correct data on what has been ‘sold’ and to whom.

The reception is first and foremost a place to relax and take a load off. There is free tea, coffee & biscuits as well as games for the children. There are also 3 desks where volunteers will register new members, or help more established members with the admin that comes after a few months of being in Cyprus. In the first 9 months, an asylum seeker cannot legally work, however when 9 months hits, they must register for their ‘labour card’ which means they are eligible to work jobs from a very specific government-approved list. It also means they can receive benefits at any time that they are not in work. We would help them register for a labour card and also for bank accounts, which are also needed at this point in their journey. Volunteers help them collate all the required documents and fill out the necessary forms. Other tasks include applying for medical cards, helping with CVs or directing people to other NGOs where they can pick up clothes, get baby formula or study English/Greek lessons.

My impressions

In my first week, I must admit, I spent most of my time just trying to get everything right. It could be quite intense communicating with a member via Google Translate in their language while trying to read their house contracts, often in Greek, and correctly filling out the forms they need without accidentally making a typo that would cost them a second visit. Often, members would travel from nearby cities for our help in Nicosia, which could be a €10 return bus journey, so a mistake that meant they had to travel again would ideally be avoided at all costs.

However, by the second week I had started to relax into things a bit. I found that using Google Translate really ought to be a last resort, or that you could still joke and have fun with people even if you don’t speak the same language. I also realised that our most important job at the Centre was to chat and be a friendly face; the Centre was often the only place outside of their homes where assylum seekers were made to feel human in Cyprus.

I found that particularly joyful days were Thursdays and Fridays, when the barber would come in and turn the third desk in the reception into a free hairdressers for new members. He would play his joyful music from different countries in Africa and members would hang around. Fridays were extra busy as people would visit after going to the Mosque.

Chatting to the members brought me a joy that only expanding your own views of the world can give you… although often I would find myself reflecting on my conversations in the evening and feel profoundly upset or angry (sometimes I wasn’t sure what I was feeling) at the world for the treatment displaced people face day-to-day.

Who are Asylum Seekers?

The members come from a range of different countries and often there will be an influx from one particular place over a few weeks/months as political situations change and evolve. During my time, we had many Sudanese, Syrians, Somalians and Afghans. There were also a few from Cameroon, Nigeria, Iran, Palestine, Iraq, Lebanon and more.

From Syria and Somalia, members could be anyone: individual young men, families and even individual older men and women. From Sudan, it was more often individual young men.

There were two members that I enrolled on my first day that struck a particular chord with me; they were two sisters of 21 and 23 from Iran. You hear people say all the time that ‘anyone could find themselves in a position where they are seeking asylum and it could be us one day’. From the comfort of my middle class London life, these statements never really resonated. However, these two sisters reminded me so much of me and my little sister - they dressed like us, bickered like us and simply wanted to succeed in life - that it suddenly became very clear that the only thing separating us was luck. They picked up their first shop and then asked where they could find clothes. One of them asked where she could sell her Apple Mac to make a bit of money.

Another group that I enjoyed spending time with was the young men from Sudan. Often they were around 19 years old - they had been sent by their families to make a better life for themselves. What struck me with these people is how alone they must feel - they won’t see their parents or siblings for years now… if ever. Nevertheless, they always came in with a smile and respect for everyone around them. One young man I got to know initially came across as cheeky, intelligent and full of joy. He taught me and another volunteer some Sudanese dance moves and he ended up starting a street party one Friday afternoon. I admired his joy while facing so much uncertainty and I told myself that he would be just fine in his journey with his charm and intelligence. But the following Monday he came into the centre and opened up. He was living in a flat with so many people that it was hard to sleep due to the noise. His mum would ring him to check he was ok and he didn’t know what to tell her - he couldn’t legally work yet so was earning cash-in-hand on dangerous construction sites, working as many hours as his tired body would let him. He was receiving food from the market but, as a 19 year old boy doing manual labour, he was still constantly hungry. He didn’t want to worry his mum and he wanted to be able to send money home like he had promised but he just couldn’t make ends meet. I think about him a lot, and the fact that he is one of thousands facing the same situation.

Beautiful people

There were so many humans with their colourful stories and personalities - some heartbreaking, like the Syrian couple who were younger than me, navigating life in a new country, with a newborn baby and, to top it off, the wife was receiving chemo. They were so open and generous with their spirit. One lady from Afghanistan gave me a pair of earrings as a thank you for chatting to her. Admittedly, I had promised her I would read the Quran in order to understand Islam better, so I had better keep my end of the deal up.

My fellow volunteers were also a huge contributor to my positive experience - I learned a lot from them too. We were a mixed bunch from all over the place: I overlapped with people from New Zealand, South Africa, London, the US, Brazil and Poland. The manager, who works there full time, was from Spain and had been there since 2019 (on and off, as she also worked in the Moldova centre for a while too). From these people I learned that there is always common ground to be found with strangers, no matter how different their background might be to yours. I learned how to acknowledge and accept my privilege without feeling guilty or making it a problem for other people to appease. I also learned to acknowledge that any homesickness or uneasiness was part of my privilege as I had chosen to be there. There were indeed times when I missed my partner, family and friends - especially as I was there for Easter - but I felt it was important to feel those emotions. In a very small way, they helped me begin to understand what our members might feel.

I would go back to The Dignity Centre in a heartbeat and I hope I get to work with RSE again in the future. I was glad to be helpful and not be a tourist… I really did feel like I made a difference for a small amount of time to a small number of people. I wish I could tell the members what an impact they have had on my life, but that is not the point of volunteering.

In August, I am going to Calais to volunteer with Care 4 Calais. I have heard great things about their volunteering scheme too and I look forward to understanding a different stage in the refugee journey.

As many of you know, I am at the beginning of my journey in switching to a career in humanitarianism. Having worked in the luxury wine industry for 7 years, I couldn’t embody a Champagne Socialist more perfectly if I tried. In September 2025 I will start a Masters in Humanitarianism, Aid & Conflict at the School of Oriental and African Studies in London. I have a lot of thoughts and opinions on current global politics and policies affecting international development, immigration and asylum seekers but, for now, I will simply relay my personal experiences. As I become more informed and articulate in the subject, I intend to become more vocal.