The word paper is fairly neutral. When we were children, we scribbled on it. We used it to paint, to draw and to create art, with varying degrees of success. I was rubbish at art but I loved paper as there was nothing quite like a clean sheaf on which to scribble my ten year old thoughts. As we grew older, the word paper was adulterated to become synonymous with the cold hard face of currency. Today, the plural form of the word takes on a special significance in the vocabulary of the immigrant. Papers are a whole new currency- it is a hot commodity representing a passport to the right to reside in the developed world. The value of this currency never fluctuates.
There are paper chasers on the streets of Paris: the processions of sans –papiers of Cameroonian men and Ivory Coast women in Barbes-Rochechouart fill the churches of Saint Denis to pray to a God who would wash away old lives and give them new documented ones, in the same way that they fill the bank accounts of unscrupulous avocats who promise every year, next year they will have the legal right to reside and to remain. There are paper chasers in London- Nigerian men and Jamaican women who have overstayed the duration of their permits, armed with either a false British passport or a fake residence permit, or both. They work cash in-hand in hairdressers’ salons in Peckham and on construction sites in Hackney. There are thousands of paper chasers in Brooklyn, New York- Grenadian men and Guyanese women who have literally given up solid, reasonably well paid jobs in the Caribbean or brighter prospects at home, to become one of Patterson’s invisibles- they babysit in New Jersey literally cleaning up the shit after affluent
Paper chasing has its own rules, its own honour code of conduct and regulations, which vary according to the host country’s norms and mores. I quickly learnt that in the United States, a sophisticated money marriage system exists and it is rare to find a paper marriage for free. When it comes to marriage, there appears to be an irrefutable presumption of illegitimacy. I explained to a friend that someone I knew got married. The immediate question was “Papers?” Wedding photos on Facebook are gossiped and whispered about. More often than not, citizens are paid for their time and trouble, often to sums topping $5000- $10,000. This is presumably to represent the cost of the hassle- mere green card holders do not have permanent rights to reside, so often these arranged marriages subsist for over 7 years to ensure that the deal is seen through to completion. The United States’ Citizenship and Immigration Services is often swiftly on the heels- they require photos showing evidence of long marital life, and I have heard, anecdotally, that the questions they ask require intimate knowledge- what colour is your husband’s toothbrush, what was the colour of the dress you wore on your wedding day? A marriage for papers therefore requires forward planning- an easy familiarity with spouse’s family members and background- it is not for the faint hearted. However, many are unperturbed. I know of citizens who have married three times over to allow spouses to obtain rights to reside. I have heard of couples who plan to migrate and each to marry US citizens to obtain that elusive green card, and then to marry each other after the ordeal. I hope it is worth it and it lasts.
In the UK, there is a more covert, laissez faire approach to paper marriages. There is almost always the ruse of love, and even in cases where there is no ruse- overstayers use the criteria of citizenship to filter out any potential marriage applicants. It is the ultimate economic cost-benefit analysis. What good is it falling in love with someone who cannot help? Older women are often targeted. Lots of Eastern Europeans in economically strained circumstances consent to these marriages and contract them for sums as low as £1,000.
Nothing really surprises me about green card marriages in the US anymore except for the profile of those who overstay and who seek to undertake them. I probably expect them of persons who are unemployed in their home countries or those who really have nothing to lose. College graduates really should know better. Is at home so bad? The bourgeois set from the Caribbean/Africa whose parents sent them abroad every summer. Surely during their many sojourns proper research could have been undertaken as to the myriad ways to enter and to remain legally in the West. Up to two years ago, the UK offered working holiday visas and nanny visas to Caribbean nationals, yet thousands still chose to come through the system illegally. Is it the thrill of the chase or is it pure ignorance, the failure to question and to be informed, accepting this indignity of crouching low in another man’s country as the only way? Papers are ascribed an almost mythical significance- "she ehn fix up yet". Someone I know referred to a mutual friend with a BA, MA and PhD as "not having shit" on the basis that she did not yet have the permanent right to reside. This, to me, is incredulous.
Many who migrate do not tell us the real story, they present a skewed picture of what they romantically term the “hustle”. They do not tell the truth- that the hustle is really a sale. It is a trade in peace of mind for economic gain, without which many of our families would probably not have advanced, but this does not make the choice any more viable or sane. They do not say that the wheel of the hustle is notoriously difficult to climb atop because there are thousands, if not millions of hustlers running along for that chance, to do the job for longer hours than they would, at a pay vastly cheaper than they would, and yes, probably better than they would. They keep quiet the fact that not many employers would take the risk so that for every yes there are maybe one hundred no’s. That to pay bills and to keep on top of rent and demands at home, the hustle becomes two and three and even four hustles, with no time for rest. They keep it on the down low that they are often paid less than permanent residents for doing the very same job. That unscrupulous rich families in the East side would try to hold on to their passports and make them work for more than their contracted hours because they knew that they do not have a choice. That every hustler knows of at least one mother or father whose sons or daughters died whilst they were abroad and that he/she could not come home to bury their own children. And that yes there are no taxes, but undocumented there is also no NHS, no insurance, no services if you happen fall sick. That the hustle may also involve having sex with a man you do not like or love. That very often you learn to love the man you are having sex with, because only that offers a way out.
I do not judge our paper chasers. I envy their audacity and their resilience. I could not do it. I have too much pride to eat at the crumbs that fall of the table of another man’s country whilst its citizens dine Michelin-style. I judge instead the failure of our own countries to harness the skills of its citizens, to create employment opportunities, to encourage initiative among our people so that it won’t be necessary for us to leave. If all the “hustlers” hustled at the same rate in the same way in their home countries, the Third World would be buzzing with vibrance and economic actitivy. I judge the developed West with its McFoods and McJobs and McEducation that lure us with McPromises. And I hope, that by the Grace of God, I would never be placed in a position where all I feel I can do is to paper chase. No one should.
(Pic from www.paperchase.co.uk. All rights reserved. Paper Chase has nothing to do with paper chasing or illegal immigration).
