An Open Letter to the Entry Clearance Officer
Sir/Madam,
I know for certain you looked at my application once. Back in the middle of Summer you requested a document (my fiancée’s divorce decree absolute) which we provided right away. At the time it seemed strange that the application was deemed ‘non-straightforward’ over this, given that guidelines for application don’t ask for such documents, but no matter: after three months of waiting in punishing stress and uncertainty I was sure things were on track – you had all you needed and the simple matter of returning my passport and allowing me entry to be with the woman I love.
As I write, another three months will soon have gone by. Months in which, without a passport, my income has gone to zero; my savings have been eradicated, the goodwill of friends and family who’ve let me sleep in their homes has been strained to bursting (I keep imagining that prison or the army would have been easier, where at least you get room and board and a rough idea of how long the punishment will last). My relationship with my beautiful, delicate fiancée – the whole point of this exercise – has been tested in ways beyond heartbreak and sorrow. I wonder if you’ve ever been separated from someone you love, indefinitely, with no clear indication as to why. Have you ever woken up hopeful every morning after broken sleep and horrible dreams only to face the continued, silent, unexplained indifference of a bureaucracy that holds your fate in its hands.
I understand it’s your responsibility to be careful, to vet all applications for devious cheats and threatening criminals. Rightly so. It couldn’t be more clear, however, that’s not who’s applying for a visa here. I’m just a likeable 51-year-old dunderhead with an unremarkable past, a lifetime of playing by the rules, and the mixed fortune of falling for a tall auburn-haired Mancunian.
Please, in the name of all that is decent, take another look.
Yours sincerely,
D
