One of the current government’s first announcements was a promise to clear the backlog of 23,300 modern slavery cases it had inherited and help get the victims’ lives back to normal.
But even if their status is confirmed (and some of the other estimated 100,000+ modern slavery victims identified), survivors are not guaranteed support, such as counselling, safe housing and legal advice. This is because new laws allow the government to decide on a 'case-by-case' basis whether support is 'necessary' in each case. As a result, some survivors go through the whole decision-making process without ever recieving help.
Another major cause of concern is the slowness and incompetence faced by many people who have been freed from enslavement in accessing government support.
A House of Lords committee said recently that the previous government had restricted support for survivors. A specialist giving evidence to the committee reported survivors' claims of being told they could be deported if they complained about their treatment.
The organisation After Exploitation says politicians agree that modern slavery is a huge problem but "refuse to match the rhetoric with guaranteed support".
The organisation's director, Maya Esslemont, explains that "survivors have the worst of both worlds: those who need support aren't guaranteed it, whilst survivors who want to maintain some semblance of normality by returning to work often can't because of immigration restrictions. Many need some form of support and the right to work in order to recover, but get neither."
Campaigners say every victim must be able to access support, especially long-term support — which is not the case at present, despite the rhetoric.
Government, they argue, must take an honest look at the existing legislation covering survivors, because “services specifically for modern slavery survivors often exist on paper, but not in reality.”
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
A survivor’s story:
After escaping modern slavery, Didi [not her real name] thought her life would turn a corner. But four years after being rescued, she's still battling for basic security and dignity.
Though she's out of the hands of her traffickers, life in the UK is far from simple, and her future remains uncertain as she negotiates with the Home Office.
"People talk about trafficking and modern slavery every day," she says. "They pump a lot of money into fighting it, but we survivors don't see much of the benefits. It's like we've been freed, but not really. We're left in a limbo."
Didi's story is one of survival — both from the trafficking that enslaved her for over a decade and the system that's supposed to help her rebuild her life.
"It's more like a trap," she explains. "They [the government] want to know who's in the country illegally or just make up the trafficking claim to get rid of us. Their policies create jobs for people who work in charities, but what about us, the survivors?
“Their policies are not based on our needs.”
The National Referral Mechanism (NRM) is meant to support victims of human trafficking and modern slavery, but for Didi, it has brought little relief.
"I've been asking myself, what's this NRM really about? They tell you you're free, but then what? You're left unable to get a job, you can't go to college, and you don't get much help. It doesn't take you anywhere.
“You just sit in a safe house without working, and then people say ‘Go and work’ and accuse you of being lazy.”
The process is confusing and restrictive, she says. "After years of trying, they told me I could apply for discretionary leave to remain, yet many restrictions exist. You've already been declared a victim, and then they make it so hard for you to move forward. It feels like I'm being punished again."
Didi's first step into the system began in 2020, just before Covid-19 lockdown. “After I gave a witness statement to the police, they referred me to the Salvation Army and social services.
"I didn't know what was happening. I didn't even know about the NRM. I wasn't documented. I was severely depressed.
“They moved me to a safe house in the West Midlands, but conditions were so bad they only added to my trauma.
"When I got there, the bed was filthy, the sheets were stained. I had to buy my own bedding. It was horrible, especially for someone who'd been trafficked for 11 years. I had mental health issues, and it just triggered everything again.
"There was one woman and six men in the house before I moved in. One of the boys had been in prison for stabbing. He wanted sex from me. I told him No. I said I was old enough to be his mum, but he didn't care. He got violent. He'd go out, leave the door open, come back at 3a.m. It triggered all the bad memories.
“There's no security in some of the ‘safe houses’, anyone can do anything.
"It was a living hell," she says. "I couldn't even go downstairs to cook food because I was scared. So I started eating junk food in my room. I ended up in the hospital on insulin. I was admitted for five days. My diabetes got worse, my mental health got worse. I was back at square one."
Even after leaving the ‘safe’ house, problems persisted. "I never felt like I was rescued. They just moved me around. I ended up in another place, but the support wasn't there. If you try to report things to the authorities, they don't do anything. You're just left in the system, waiting."
She has been subjected to several sexual attacks.
"When I was moved to a hotel they weren't expecting me. I was sick, vomiting, sitting in the reception, waiting. Even when I got a room, conditions were appalling. There was no hot water, no heat. The room smelled bad. The ceiling was dripping water. I felt like I was being punished all over again. This is what survivors face after they've been 'rescued’.”
Didi's frustration with the Home Office and the system that's supposed to help her is clear. "I've been in this country for over 15 years. When I applied to go to college, they asked for an asylum card. But I wasn't an asylum seeker: I was a trafficking victim. So they said I didn't qualify. It's all a mess."
She describes feeling constantly sidelined. "When you're black, it's even worse. I had to fight for everything. The support worker didn't even know how to open a bank account. They told me I wasn't entitled. I had to fight for that, too.
"If a support worker doesn't know what they're doing, it's a mess. I didn't even know my status. I had to research it all myself. I'm still in the system.
“Where is my recovery in all this?”
The battle with the system seems never-ending. "I gave a full statement to the Home Office in March 2022, but they said they never received it. I sent it again but then they said they had already concluded my case: they said I wasn't a trafficking victim any more.”
Of the many possible improvements to the system in which she feels trapped, Didi says “the most important is to let us work or go to college. We were working before they freed us, and it is senseless to force people to sit around doing nothing."
Even now, Didi feels like she's fighting an uphill battle: "I'm living in a studio flat now, but it's temporary. There's no security, no support.
“They acknowledge that I was trafficked, but they still tell me I need to go home [to my country of origin] but I'm not safe there."
Didi isn't alone in her struggle. "I know people who've been in the system for five years, still waiting for interviews, still without support. One of my friends died — no counselling, no help. She was housebound, couldn't read or write, and they just let her die."
Despite everything, she remains defiant: "I'm part of groups fighting for change, writing to the government, trying to change the policies. I don't want anyone else to go through what I've been through. I'm fighting for the people who come after me."
Didi's story is a stark reminder that freedom from modern slavery doesn't guarantee a better life.
"We fight, we struggle, but it shouldn't be this hard,” she says. “After everything we've been through, we deserve better."
Photo credit: Said71.com