The Asylum Seekers

Under Mr Dryden, Group Z had a record of approving 70 per cent of the asylum applications that were managed by the group. He was a realist, dispassionate in his consideration of the evidence in relation to every asylum claim, not assuming anything, leaving no stone unturned, and often reminding his workers that the lives and safety of asylum applicants could be at stake if the group failed to do their job well. He often said that it would be better for the application of a bogus asylum seeker to be approved than for the application of a genuine asylum seeker to be refused and the asylum seeker sent back to his or her home country, where he or she might face death or torture. Mr Dryden often reminded his staff that they were doing a great job and that a great deal was expected of them. “Henry, I am glad to be handing over to you. I trust you will find this group to be a real family to work with. I feel sad I am leaving. I would rather have remained here, but I have no choice over whether I should remain or go. I assure you, you are going to enjoy your time here,” Mr Dryden said. He stood up from his chair one last time, taking the outstretched right hand of Henry, who had entered Mr Dryden’s office. “Yes, of course. I believe I will have a good time here. I have heard a lot about this group. I am excited to get on with the job. I thank you very much, Lawrence, for taking time out to brief me about this place yesterday, when we first met,” Henry replied, smiling, as he shook Mr Dryden’s hand. “Henry, please, if you ever need any help from me, do reach out. You have my mobile and office telephone numbers. You may call me anytime. I know that as you get on with this job, there will be moments when you might need assistance; I will be ready anytime to give any advice I can.” Mr Dryden walked through the door with his briefcase in his right hand and a sad expression on his face. It was obvious that he was already missing the group. As Mr Dryden came out of his office and into a large open space where some of the workers worked, all the members of the group started to clap for him. He had not expected the ovation. They started to sing: “For he’s a jolly good fellow, For he’s a jolly good fellow. He’s a jolly good fellow, and so say all of us. Hurray! Hurray!” They repeated the song three times as Mr Dryden stood there smiling, looking all around himself, with tears starting to roll down his cheeks. Mr Dryden spent the next few minutes thanking the members of the group for their support, their love, their compassion, and their hard work. He enjoined them to show the same amount, if not more, of that support, compassion, love, and hard work to Henry, their new boss. Mr Dryden told the group that his job would have been much harder if they had not been so kind and gracious. After saying that he would miss them very much, he enjoined them to continue to be the very good civil servants they had been and told them that if they were to do this, they would be rewarded. The next day, Henry started his first full day at Group Z. He began by reading the handover note left by Mr Dryden, and then he began speaking to the executive officers one at a time as they each took their turn to come to his office for a chat. When Jasmine Blakes got to Henry’s office, the second to last to do so, the only person of mixed race among the executive officers, Henry remained in his seat instead of standing up. He did this out of respect for the woman, as he had done with the other executive officers, who were also women, all of them Caucasians. He did not smile upon seeing Jasmine and did not take her outstretched hand; instead, he asked her to sit down on the chair in front of him on the other side of the table. He did not raise his head to look at her as he spoke. “Thank you for having me here for this brief conversation. Is there anything, sir, you might want me to tell you about this group that you do not already know?” Jasmine said, noting that Henry’s reception was cold. “Nothing. I believe I don’t need to know anything else now. I will let you know if there is anything arises later which I need your knowledge for,” Henry replied. He raised his head for the first time to look at Jasmine, his face a bit drawn. “All right, sir. I will be around if you need anything from me. I am in room ten.” Jasmine got up and pushed the chair back in, preparing to leave the room. “Miss Blakes, sorry for asking, but who is the black sheep among your parents, your father or your mother?” Henry had a bit of a smile on his face as he got up from his chair. “Sorry, what is that? What do you mean, sir? I don’t understand. What do you mean by black sheep?” “Oh, sorry, I do not mean to be offensive. I can see that you are of mixed race, and I was just wondering who the Black person is, whether your father or your mother,” Henry replied, rubbing his chin with the fingers of his right hand.