34 students were ordered to move to the UK on September 17 to begin their education in Gaza. Many of them had submitted their visa applications before I did mine. I still felt peace and joy when I learned their exit. Finally, they were secure and on their way to new beginnings. I maintained my upbeat spirits, anticipating the start of my turn. However, I was shocked to find that there were 17 more names on the list, but mine wasn’t one of them when the next evacuation list arrived on September 29.
This mystery is also affecting me, too. I am aware of at least eight other students in Gaza who have been accepted into prestigious universities for higher education in the UK, but they haven’t been listed as eligible for evacuation despite meeting the requirements set forth by the UK Visas and Immigration (UKVI) for the visas they have received.
Our fully funded scholarships at renowned UK universities are now in danger due to unreliable and inconsistent delays in the evacuation process and not because our institutions failed to represent us. On September 29, my University of Birmingham program officially began. My place has already been fully secured thanks to a Sanctuary Scholarship, which covers tuition, living expenses, and other expenses. I’m still a prisoner of war in Gaza and await confirmation that it never arrives.
I reacted with cheer when the first cohort left. I urged myself and the other students who had been mysteriously excluded from the evacuation list to be wary of comparison and desperation. The turn would be for everyone. After months of waiting, applications, interviews, and almost constant fear, the evacuation process finally arrived. Then, with only 17 names on the list, the next list arrived. None of the early applicants who were still waiting, in my opinion, were on it. Students who had submitted their visa applications weeks after we were contacted were also contacted. Some had already applied days before they were evacuated.
In case the government’s email arrives, I check my phone every day and night and sleep with it on my pillow. My university, my MP, and my lawyer have assured me that I am indeed eligible because I meet all the requirements, have filled out all the forms, and passed all the hurdles. The Foreign, Commonwealth, Development Office (FCDO) and the Home Office have received the same documents more than once. My accommodation has been reserved and I’m waiting for my arrival. My funding is guaranteed. No unresolved questions or missing paperwork are present. I wait, though.
There might be additional evacuation waves. However, there will undoubtedly be fewer names on each new list. There is no longer a long wait between me and my fellow students. The chance of our futures and scholarships disappearing increases with each passing day.
How the names are being included has been revealed in this ordeal, which is deeply troubling. Why did applicants come in later than we did prioritized? Why are some applications processed so quickly that some people’s names are listed on an evacuation list a few days after submitting the forms? Why do other applications, like mine, seem to have been forgotten? Why am I uninformed despite meeting every prerequisite?
Nobody can respond to these inquiries, not even the MPs, MPs, or even the attorneys who are the best at explaining the procedures. I’m left to wonder if I’m being put further back in the queue each time because the procedure is opaque. Every student who is still waiting to see their names on that crucial list is in my greatest fear, and that the same pattern will continue to be present: every new wave will prioritize new applicants while we are indefinitely delayed. Without explanation or accountability, we are relegated to a process we are unable to comprehend or challenge.
The psychological strain of this limbo is difficult to quantify. The same routine is followed every morning: check the inbox, check the email, and check the phone. Nothing . While I wait in the dark and put my dreams on hold, friends from abroad update me about lectures beginning. In case someone finally remembers me while I sleep, the phone beside me ends the night in the same manner. Here, there are a lot of disappointment, disappointment, and despair in the air. Every delay is a step closer to losing my place and the opportunity to continue my education abroad, far from the war, than just a lost day. The only way out of this difficult reality and the only way to rebuild ourselves and repair the broken parts of ourselves is for many of us, not just a delay, but a slow erasure of our future.
The University of Birmingham has remained committed to me and repeatedly contacted relevant authorities in my name. However, there is only so much that the university can do. The consequences will be devastating if I can’t leave right away. These awards are perpetual. Missing the academic year’s start could mean completely losing the funding. My place will be given away if I don’t arrive on time because my housing has already been secured and paid for. These are competitively priced degrees offered by renowned universities. I competed with international competitors for this position for years while being under siege and bombardment. It would be devastating to lose it right now as a result of bureaucratic silence. I received the Sanctuary Scholarship, along with other initiatives like it, to demonstrate my solidarity and demonstrate that those living in conflict can get a lifeline through education.
I don’t request any special treatment. Simply put, I request that my visa be processed. I’ve submitted every document and requested item. The criteria used to determine who gets evacuated are opaque, which is what I lack. Why are some students in the queue advanced while others are ignored despite having the same circumstances? Without any solutions, I feel sluggish and worn out. And I worry that my future will be wiped out if I don’t take action right away.
The end of the world has already arrived. I was informed in my most recent correspondence with the university that if I don’t arrive by the 17th of this month, I’ll lose the place I’ve worked so hard for and, along with it, the future I’ve fought for through war, loss, and sacrifice. I ask those with the power to act, in the face of all the threats, to refrain from silently destroying our futures.
