We are aware of the BBC’s investigation which identified a small number of rogue advisers offering immigration and asylum advice that encouraged fraudulent claims.
While any misconduct should rightly attract scrutiny, it is deeply misleading for these findings to be amplified in a way that risks distorting public debate.
Framing these isolated cases as a broader problem threatens to undermine the real and well‑documented experiences of women in the UK who are LGBTQ+ and fleeing domestic abuse and persecution, and risks further eroding trust in a system that many survivors depend on for safety.
For more than a decade, Women for Refugee Women (WRW) has supported women who are seeking safety in the UK, fleeing gender-based persecution, including domestic violence, sexual violence and forced marriage. Our Rainbow Sisters, a solidarity and peer‑support group for LGBTQ+ refugee and asylum‑seeking women, is made up of women who come from countries where they are persecuted because of their sexuality or gender identity – often facing violence, imprisonment, and in some cases the risk of death. Seeking asylum has never been an easy choice for the women we support; it is an act of survival.
Our research and frontline experience consistently show that LGBTQ+ women face profound barriers when claiming asylum. Many have spent their entire lives hiding who they are in order to stay alive. When they reach the UK, they are then expected to disclose deeply personal aspects of their identity to strangers in a hostile and high‑pressure asylum process. Similar barriers exist for women escaping gender-based violence, including domestic abuse, who are expected to provide evidence that is often impossible to obtain and navigate disclosure of traumatic experiences to officials in unsupportive settings.
For many of the women we support, they are also dealing with trauma from years of persecution, violence, and isolation, which can further delay disclosure. These realities are not anomalies; they are common experiences among LGBTQ+ asylum‑seeking women and women who have endured domestic abuse, coercive control and other forms of gender-based violence.
As a result, women are frequently met with scepticism and disbelief from the Home Office. Our findings show that LGBTQ+ women seeking asylum are routinely doubted, asked intrusive questions, and required to “prove” an identity they were forced to conceal for most of their lives. We see the same harmful pattern when women disclose experiences of domestic violence, where credibility is regularly questioned.
Singling out LGBTQ+ asylum claims or those rooted in domestic abuse and gender-based violence as inherently suspect risks reinforcing a dangerous narrative that further marginalises already vulnerable groups. Debates that frame survivors’ accounts as suspicious or opportunistic risk undermining protection for all women fleeing violence and abuse and detracts from meaningful scrutiny of an asylum system that too often operates with a presumption of disbelief rather than protection.
Rather than using these revelations to justify further restrictions or punitive measures, the government must focus on ensuring fair, sensitive, and informed decision‑making for LGBTQ+ people seeking asylum. This includes proper training for Home Office decision‑makers, and a system that recognises the complex and traumatic realities of claiming asylum on the basis of sexuality or gender identity. Crucially, the UK must ensure that its asylum system remains a lifeline for women whose lives are at risk due to domestic violence and other forms of gender‑based harm, and that their need for safety is met with compassion, not suspicion.
A Voice from Rainbow Sisters
As Fatima, a lesbian woman and member of Rainbow Sisters who fled persecution in Pakistan, shared with us:
“Growing up, I always knew that who I was could never be spoken out loud. In Pakistan, being someone like me is not just judged it is dangerous. The law criminalises same-sex relationships, but what frightened me more was society. Families, neighbours, and communities can turn against you. People face violence, rejection, forced marriage, and even honour-based harm.
Because of this, I lived my life in silence. I hid everything: my feelings, my identity, my truth. I could not express love, could not speak openly, and could not trust anyone fully. This caused me deep emotional pain and isolation.
I came to the United Kingdom to seek asylum because I could no longer live like that. When I first applied, I hoped I had finally reached safety. But instead, I was made to feel discouraged. My legal aid lawyer told me that my country is already seen as a “burden” because there are so many asylum cases, and that people may not believe me.
It has been very hard to talk about my sexuality openly during this process. I have spent my whole life hiding it to survive. Suddenly being expected to explain everything, including deeply personal and painful experiences, has been overwhelming. I have often felt afraid that I will not be believed, especially because I do not have “evidence” in the way people might expect. My life in Pakistan was built on secrecy. I could not keep messages, photos, or proof without risking my safety.
Recent news about asylum and immigration has increased my anxiety. It makes me worry that people like me will be seen as less deserving or not believed. I did not come here for opportunity or convenience. I came here because I was afraid, and I needed safety. I want the chance to live honestly, without fear, and without hiding who I am.”