Later Monday evening, Uncle asks if he could show me his rejection letter from the U.S. His case had been referred to the DHS for a resettlement interview, but wasn't accepted. The letter shows a list of possible reasons for rejection, with the relevant option ticked. The reason he was rejected was that the interviewing officer had given him an 'opportunity to present evidence to support his case', but as he could not produce it, he was rejected. The evidence he was asked to produce was a photo of him and Daw Aung San Suu Kyi, proving he was a member of the NLD. He'd left the photo at home, and asked if he couldn't bring it back to show him. The interviewing officer told him there was no time. And that was that.

Apparently, holding a UNHCR refugee card is not enough to prove you are refugee. One would think the resettlement interview would evaluate whether or not one would adapt well to living in that particular country. How many times does a person have to prove themselves to be believed? The resettlement decision process has basically no appeal process, and no oversight on decisions made by officers. One man decides the fate of individuals based on a 20 minute interview. Several people who interviewed with that same officer that day say how he was in a very bad mood and short with all of them.

The secretary was also rejected on the same day, but his case was referred to Australia - he left with his family last week. Uncle's family is in America, and he tells me he would rather die than go to a different country. He tears up as he tells me how much he loves America and asks for some advice on what he can do. Despite the fact that I feel his love is misplaced, it's still heartbreaking when I think about what he must be feeling. He's still waiting and hoping for some chance to reverse the officer's decision - a prospect with very little hope. The UNHCR is holding his case for referral to Canada, perhaps the only real alternative he has, since it might allow him to join his family again in America.

The DHS officer that interviewed didn't ask if he had family in America, though it may have been written in his case file. Uncle was one of the last interviews he'd had at the end of a long day, and I wonder if he thought about how important his decision was to the life of an old man, or if he thought about how many lives he'd arbitrarily judged that day. It sometimes feels like the whole refugee and asylum process is designed to make sure those who are applying are aware that they are simply not important in this world - that we would see fit to give civil servants a level of power over their lives that even judges don't have over criminals.