Imelda (Mel) Morano last saw her son when he was 11-years-old. He’s 26 now meaning that “for half of his life I was not there for him”, she says.
The 52-year-old cried as she recalled the moment she found a letter on her doorstep confirming she would be one of the first beneficiaries of a scheme to regularise long-term undocumented people living in Ireland.
“I saw the face of my son smiling and my mom,” she says. “I will have no more fear.”
She has already booked a flight to the Philippines to see her family. The Dublin-based childminder says it is "life changing" to know she is no longer illegal in the State that has been her home since 2007.
Morano is a single mother and says she came to Ireland hoping to make enough money to send her son to college and because she could not pay the bills at home.
After six years studying dentistry, he recently qualified as an orthodontist.
“Yes it was all worth it,” she says, conscious of the irony in her minding other people’s children so she could give her own a future.
Living in the shadows has been hard, says Morano. For years if she saw a garda on the street “I would walk the other way or go into another street because I was scared they would ask for my passport”.
When travelling by bus or train she was also fearful in case of being asked for documents.
“I am actually scared of the person who checks the tickets,” she says.
Morano and her sister, a nurse also living in Ireland, have booked tickets to travel back to see their family in July.
“We were laughing and crying at the same time,” says Morano, who hopes her registration will be confirmed in June, after which she can get her passport stamped.
For most undocumented people the hardest thing about being separated from family is missing important milestones, both good and bad.
“You cannot go home for special occasions or for emergency situations. You watch these things go by,” she says.
Irene Jagoba, one of the leaders of the 11-year Justice For the Undocumented campaign, is also from the Philippines and has not seen her two children, now aged 22 and 16, since arriving in Ireland 14 years ago.
She came in 2008 on a tourist visa and stayed because her then two-year-old son had a congenital heart condition and money was needed for medical bills.
“I was fighting for his life,” says Jagoba, who has worked as a childminder, carer and cleaner during her time here to support family in the Philippines.
Advances in technology meant she was able to help her children with homework and check in with them daily through video calls.
“The hardest thing about being undocumented is not being able to see your kids and also you never know what you might encounter once you step outside your door. There is always fear,” she says.
Jagoba remembers having her bag stolen “with quite a big amount of money in it” but she felt she could not report the crime because of the threat of deportation hanging over her.
Neil Bruton, campaign lead at the Migrant Rights Centre Ireland (MRCI), says this same fear is holding back many who are eligible from applying to have their immigration status sorted.
“These people have been living in the shadows for many years, making every effort not to engage with any government organisation,” he adds. “People are afraid to go to the GP if they are unwell, they are afraid to report a crime. We know people who are self-medicating because they are scared to go to a hospital.”
This need to keep a low profile means undocumented people work in unregulated sectors often doing long hours for low pay, he says.
Bruton worries that the window – from January 31st to July 21st – for undocumented people to apply for their legal status might be too short and says it is important for the message to go out to them that it is safe to do so.
The MRCI estimates there are 17,000 undocumented people in Ireland and that anything from 10,000 to 12,000 meet the qualifying criteria of having lived in Ireland for four years, or three years for families with children.
There is a separate strand for asylum seekers who have until August 7th to apply if they have been in the system for a minimum of two years.
The Department of Justice says its International Protection Office has written to some 4,000 eligible applicants in the asylum system. So far, more than 1,300 have applied for their immigration status.
In total, some 5,000 applications have been made to the two strands and about 250 positive decisions have come so far, according to the department.
“More decisions and permissions are expected to be issued in the coming period,” it notes.
One of the 250 to have already got the good news is Cork-based Bikal Poudel, a native of Nepal, who has been here since 2014 when he arrived aged 22 to study hospitality. He said he was lucky to have "a decent job" as a chef but is aware of other undocumented people who are being exploited because of their precarious situation.
He says being undocumented has been like “having one leg out of the country”, with the possibility of being deported always a worry.
Poudel talks to his mother in Nepal daily on WhatsApp because she worries if she does not hear from him. He says “we cried it was so joyful” when telling her he would be visiting soon.
After applications opened on January 31st he applied “the next morning” and is grateful to have got such a fast response.
“I want to tell all the people who are still fearful to apply,” he says.
Having come from Nepal it is no surprise that the 30-year-old has climbed Carrauntoohil, Ireland’s highest peak, twice.
“When I came to Ireland it reminded me of home with the hills and mountains,” he says.
Following an 11-year campaign, Bruton says it is with thanks to the courage of many undocumented people that the breakthrough came.
“We know it’s daunting to apply for people who are still afraid but we don’t want people to miss this opportunity,” he said.
- Anyone who needs help with their application is urged to visit www.mrci.iefor information and support.
