Object #1: Pen

In 2019, Sanu reported his exploitation to the police. Despite disclosing his abuse, he was not immediately supported as a victim of trafficking. Instead, he was sent home, to the same street his trafficker lived on, without safeguarding measures in place. To receive support, victims must first be recognised by a front-line professional, such as the police, and then referred to the Home Office’s National Referral Mechanism
(NRM).

In my experience, police officers don’t know what the NRM is. They don’t have sufficient training about how they attend to survivors.

Sanu says the effects of severe trauma, including memory loss,
heighten the need for trauma-informed assistance when victims
report to the police.

When you first rescue someone from exploitation, they are totally lost. They can’t remember what has happened. It’s a blur. Survivors need a legal representative, or a social worker at the very least.

Sanu suggests authorities develop a ‘road map’, explaining what the system will look like when they enter the NRM.

I didn’t know anything about trafficking before talking to the
police. It should be made crystal clear about what you are entitled
to, such as legal aid.

In my case, I gave a statement to help the investigation straight
away [without a lawyer present]. But it was not the right decision. I
was in slavery for six years, and I was so broken. I hardly talked.

In 2017, the Government promised to roll out a scheme called ‘Places
of Safety’, which would provide victims with temporary safe
housing, counselling, and advocacy to better navigate the system when
first reporting their abuse. The program never materialised.

Today, Sanu advocates for others who are struggling to access
support through the NRM and asylum processes, raising issues
with Parliamentarians and calling for training within police forces.

I don’t have many belongings, but the pen symbolises my experience
– writing for myself, for the people, and for the campaigns I work on in the fight against slavery. It is how I am able to have a voice

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Object #2: Research handbook

Sanu’s research handbook is one of books bolstering his advocacy
for survivors of trafficking. It’s through this work that he explains
to policymakers that the current system for survivors is oppressive,
even once they leave settings of exploitation.

[As a survivor] you think, ‘I’m rescued by someone’. But then they just put us away, because the NRM is a kind of prison. It is like when you come into the system you are handcuffed.

Sanu says that support in the UK “needs to see a shift” in order to
meet the needs of people who have suffered exploitation.

It took Sanu more than eighteen months to receive a referral to
a mental health service, despite suffering the effects of abuse
for a number of years. He says improving early access to mental
health services is vital for victims.

This is part of the support that should be on offer pre-NRM. Pre-NRM means ‘you are giving me time to think about it, to recover myself for a few days’. Maybe I’ll need to sleep in that time.

As he waits for an outcome on his asylum claim, Sanu is unable to
work, adding financial stress to his recovery journey. He has self-
contained accommodation, but it took him two years to find out he
could request this.

Why should that take two years? When I am first recognised by the system, entitlement should be explained and it should be crystal
clear. This allows you to make a plan. Giving a survivor information allows him to think about himself and how he can get better, and have a better life for the future.

Sanu documents his vision through his advocacy work, which has made
him feel more empowered.

I can see a bit of light at the end of the tunnel. This light is not as bright as it could be, but at least I can see the light at the end.