In Oct 1992, I came to the UK as a refugee with my parents and sister. We left Bosnia, as I couldn’t get the medical treatment I needed because of the war. On the day before we left, I started crying and coudn’t stop for hours. /1 https://twitter.com/_ctaylor_/status/1293137318547804161

We packed some clothes and put the bags into a tiny Yugo car, said goodbye to our beloved family and left for the unknown. My dad vomited in the car before we left, as he knew that danger awaited us. /2

My sister, who was 6 at the time, forgot the toys she had packed behind the door of her bedroom. She was inconsolable. She had nothing with her that she treasured. This trauma lasted for years, resulting in her feverishly collecting things until she was in her late teens. /3

When we left our home, we were broken, sad and desperate. My parents left everything they had worked for all their lives. We all left those we loved without knowing when or if we would see them again. /4

There is one thing people must understand: nobody would EVER leave their home and loved ones if they had any other option.
I can’t even fathom how we would have felt if we had been filmed and hounded at our saddest and lowest by media vultures as we entered the UK. /5

The way these desperate people are treated by this goverment and the media is inhumane, criminal and so, so shameful. Please raise your voices to protect them. END