MIGRANT hotels are at the centre of political debate and discussions across the UK just now. But what is life really like for the 80 asylum seekers living in the former Mercure Hotel in Dumfries. Is it all bed, breakfast and benefits, or is daily life much more basic?
“I have freedom but not real freedom,” is how Mohammed, 23, from Syria, sums it up. He is one of the current residents, who also hail from Nigeria and the Sudan, and on behalf of them he is keen to address some of the more common rumours. “We can come and go from the hotel, but we cannot stay more than seven days outside the hotel,” he explained. “It’s not locked down, we feel free but in prison because we cannot do anything.
“What’s the meaning of freedom? I cannot work, or talk to people because they are scared of me.”
Three meals a day are provided and each man receives a weekly allowance of £8 from the government for essentials like shampoo. There is access to bicycles and charities supply clothing, but there’s few luxuries. And with a ban on work during their first year in the country, the days are long. Mohammed, whose first language is Arabic but speaks excellent English, said: “I wake up, have breakfast, do some coding to refresh my skills. “I maybe do a TikTok live with people to answer some questions. We get an online course to study English, only one hour a week.
“People say we are coming for the hotel but they cannot imagine: the first week it’s good, after that you feel like in a prison.”

While the local branch of the TUC offers subsidised gym passes and there’s some football and sports sessions too, that still leaves a lot of free time. Ideally, Mohammed would like to explore and meet more locals, many of whom have been ‘lovely’. But he is aware too of a growing backlash locally, saying: “Most of us are scared to meet people. People are playing with us sometimes. They just want us to argue.
“We are scared, if I am walking near a school now I change direction. People are blaring horns at us. People say to me go back to your country.
“I am scared to say hi to people. There are rumours about us filming but these are not true. We are blamed for everything.”
Acknowledging the concerns about large groups of young men hanging out in town, he added: “It’s just protection not gangs, they just walk together. It’s natural to hang out together. They are not trying to be intimidating, they are just walking with friends.”
Also addressing concerns about cultural clashes, he continued: “Yes we are adults, but we are kids in this country, we do not know the rules. We are learning.”
His message to townsfolk is to take time to talk to the migrants: “Just connect, try to talk to us,” he says. “Do not judge people without talking with them or knowing anything about them. We are living in this area if you like it or not, you have to make community with us.”
It’s nearly six months since Mohammed arrived in Dumfries, and coming up for a year since he left his family in search of a better life. As the eldest son in the family he faced conscription into the army for eight years as soon as his university studies finished. Fighting, and killing, his fellow countrymen was not something he could ever countenance: “I cannot kill my own people,” he said. “I ask myself why should I go to the army? I would not think for a second I want to go and fight my own people, I would rather die on the journey out.”
Tentatively he began to make plans to leave, keeping them secret as it’s hard to trust anyone in ‘lawless’ Syria. “The walls have ears,” he said. “You do not know who to trust. People will report you.”
His parents were against the idea but eventually his mother sold her jewellery to help pay the people smugglers, which ended up costing £8000. A near kidnapping and the death of his grandfather in a bombing cemented Mohammed’s decision and in June 2024 it was time to say goodbye. He admits he had to turn off his emotions and think logically from then on.
Although the UK was not the initial plan, he had always dreamed of going to London since studying English literature. But the hazardous trip had to be faced in stages – and getting out of Syria was the first risk. “You cannot travel around Syria, they think you are a spy for another government,” he explained. “I had never left Syria in my whole life before. “I was thinking to reach UK but I said it’s too hard, when I look on maps and see it’s 3000 km away and two or three seas.”
There’s a sense of frustration at the preconception he risked his life to exploit the UK welfare system, as he explains: “We do not come here for the hotel and £8 a week. We want to try to work, we have family to support back in our countries.
“People think we are the reason for crime, housing, the NHS problems but we are not the reason, we are 0.7 per cent of the population.
“Other countries all take more refugees. If comparing Germany or any European country, they give more money, healthcare, a house. Here you cannot do anything. “After one year we can apply for work from an approved list of jobs like warehouse, factory, NHS care, farming, cashier, something basic.”
It may be a longer wait in his case, however, as his application is ‘on pause’ following a change of government in Syria. Also back home, his father has been kidnapped and his mother has received threats. When asked if it’s all been worth it, he replies: “It was my dream to reach UK, to try to improve English, study here, learn here. “But at the same time I am watching my family destroyed. It’s good side, bad sides.”
If his asylum bid is successful, he intends to stay in Dumfries, get a job in something mechanical, ideally with an apprenticeship, and pay his taxes. But if he’s rejected then it will be back to Greece or another country – but not his homeland. He’s resigned to never going back there and possibly never seeing his family again. “I was not happy in Syria. Dumfries is starting to be home,” he added.