Asylum Hotels
The Anger
People are angry about asylum seekers in hotels. I spent a long time trying to contact people who had expressed concerns online, asking them why they were angry.
The most common response was abuse. Many resented being asked to explain themselves and responded with more anger. They seemed genuinely stunned to encounter anyone who might question their outrage at all.
Among those who did try to articulate their concerns, two themes dominated: cost and the safety of women. The majority of these responses came from people who did not live near asylum hotels.
Their views were based almost entirely on what they had read on Facebook or heard on GB News. There was extensive misinformation circulating, alongside deliberate falsehoods. In particular there were widespread fears about sexual offences committed by asylum seekers, even those these were very rare. More of the protestors against asylum seekers had convictions for violence against women and girls than the people they were protesting about.
Those who claimed first-hand experience often revealed something else: they regarded any group of non-white men as asylum seekers — including medical students and migrant workers.
Why We Have Asylum Hotels
There are two main reasons why asylum seekers are housed in hotels.
First, when Priti Patel became Home Secretary she committed to reducing the number of people granted asylum. In practice she did not control asylum demand, so instead she slowed down decision-making. This deliberate throttling of the system created a massive backlog.
Existing accommodation became overcrowded and unsafe, creating serious public-health risks. The Home Office responded by leasing run-down former hotels to house people.
Second, there is a chronic shortage of dispersal accommodation. The Home Office relies on private landlords to provide housing, which often means poor-quality or unwanted properties in deprived areas, frequently owned by slum landlords.
The UK has a housing shortage — but not everywhere. Many parts of the country have large numbers of empty properties.
In areas controlled by Reform, councils are attempting to block new asylum accommodation, even though these decisions sit with the Home Office, not local authorities. They do this indirectly, by tightening HMO planning rules. This is not unique to Reform councils; Labour councils have done the same, often in an attempt to rein in exploitative landlords.
But there is another reason asylum hotels have become such a flashpoint.
Decline, Status and Rage
Online, people claim asylum seekers in hotels are living in luxury. This is obviously untrue.
These hotels were scruffy and run-down long before asylum seekers arrived. Some had been abandoned altogether; others were empty and losing money.
Once, many of these hotels were local landmarks: places for wedding receptions, anniversary dinners, visiting relatives. Their decline mirrors the decline of local services more generally, becoming symbols of communities that feel they are moving backwards.
The takeover of these buildings to house people they regard as inferior and undeserving intensifies the rage. A small number of crimes committed by asylum seekers — particularly a tiny number with a sexual element — are used to justify violent protests, often involving organised far-right activists.
But that is not the whole story.
Inside an Asylum Hotel
To understand the reality, I met an asylum seeker living in one of these hotels and a support worker who works in them.
Home Office rules prevented me from entering the hotel, but this was as close as I could get to the reality.
The hotel is a former Premier Inn. Even when operating as a commercial hotel it was run-down. It is leased to the Home Office by Mears Group, which describes itself as “one of the UK’s leading housing solutions providers”.
The Home Office’s Asylum Accommodation and Support Contracts (AASCs) were signed in 2019 with Mears, Serco and Clearsprings. The projected cost:
- £4.5bn over ten years (2019 estimate)
- revised to £15.3bn due to rising demand and hotel use
While the number of people in hotels has risen slightly since the change of government, costs have fallen significantly and profits have been aggressively challenged. Last month Mears was told to repay nearly £14m in excess profits.
Life Inside
There are 190 rooms, housing around 320 men. Most rooms are shared, with no choice over who you live with. Room allocations change regularly.
Communal areas have no natural daylight. One support worker compared it to the Overlook Hotel in The Shining.
Two nearby hotels house families. Women are prioritised for dispersal accommodation, which is why hotel residents are overwhelmingly single men.
Residents are meant to stay for a few weeks, but due to accommodation shortages many remain for a year or more.
Some residents are under 18 but are housed in adult male accommodation because the Home Office disputes their age. They wait months for “medical assessments” — despite the fact that no scientific test can reliably determine whether someone is under 18.
There is an activity room with a donated TV and pool table. There is no funded provision for leisure. Due to protests, the front doors are locked.
There are no cooking facilities. Residents receive three meals a day. Breakfast — eggs, toast, milk — is the most popular. Lunch and dinner were typically rice and some kind of sausage. There was no menu choice. Chilli sauce was prized — anything to give the food flavour.
The dining room was poorly maintained. Crockery and cutlery were often dirty.
Residents receive soap, toothpaste, and £10 a week, from which they must buy everything else, including clothes and shoes.
I have worked with offenders and ex-offenders. The accommodation felt strikingly similar to the criminal justice system — unsurprising, perhaps, given it is commissioned by the Home Office. Despite committing no offence, residents are treated with suspicion and, at times, as criminals.
The most striking feature was isolation. There was a clear desire to integrate, to mix with local people, to contribute. But lack of money, lack of opportunity, and organised hostility made this almost impossible.
Loneliness and mental-health problems were widespread.
The Process
People in hotels are waiting either for dispersal or a Home Office decision. The process is opaque, impersonal and bureaucratic.
Residents are expected to communicate by email, but the hotels have no internet. Instead they must register at the local library, which offers 20 minutes of access per day.
One resident received an automated reply stating that the Home Office expected to respond within 12 months.
This is not a glitch. It is a feature. Patel and Braverman deliberately slowed the system to create political theatre, leaving a backlog that will take years to clear.
If refugee status or leave to remain is granted, residents have 28 days to find housing. They receive little or no support, and in most areas are not given council priority.
They can then apply for benefits, including Universal Credit — but UC typically does not start for six weeks.
The Resident
The man I spoke to came from sub-Saharan Africa. He became involved in pro-democracy protests at 14, bringing him into conflict with government-backed paramilitaries.
At 17, a friend was killed during a protest. He was badly injured and still bears a prominent scar.
He travelled through Sudan to Libya, where torture by people smugglers was commonplace. From Libya he crossed to Lampedusa, then travelled across Europe, eventually reaching the UK hidden in a lorry.
He did not choose the North East. That was where he was allocated.
He studies English and IT and hopes to continue if his application succeeds. He attends college three days a week and volunteers with local charities.
He misses his family. He has been prescribed antidepressants that leave him drowsy. There was a sense of emotional numbness — a shutting down to survive.
A friend recently paid for him to join a gym. It made a noticeable difference.
He wants to integrate, but anger and suspicion make that difficult.
The Protests
Every Saturday there are protests outside the hotel. On those days residents stay in their rooms. They can hear the shouting.
People spoke of a genuine fear of racial violence. Tatty flags on lampposts were widely understood as markers of no-go areas.
One resident described how violent authoritarians had taken over his country — and how the UK now showed worrying similarities.
Why the UK?
For economic migrants, life is often better in Germany or Spain. Germany allows work after six weeks; Spain actively recruits migrant labour.
The UK’s appeal comes after status is granted. British residency — and eventually a passport — is seen as offering long-term security and the chance to return home one day.
For those with ambition, the UK is still seen as better for education and long-term prospects, despite its harsher asylum system.
Mr Bean was mentioned; soft power works in strange ways.
Why So Few Women and Children?
There are few safe and legal routes into the UK. Smuggling gangs are violent and ruthless. Women and children face serious risks of sexual exploitation.
Why This Matters
There is a vast gap between perception and reality.
Since the change of government in 2024:
- net immigration has fallen 69%
- small-boat crossings are down 25% over four months
- December is on track for a record low, with 28 days of zero crossings
Companies like Mears are on notice. Contracts will end. Profits will be tightly policed.
And yet nothing changes. The angry remain angry.
When immigration fell, the response followed the stages of grief: denial, bargaining, fury. Acceptance is unlikely — because some people want to be angry.
Anger is powerful. You can only love a few people, but you can hate infinitely. Hatred is addictive — especially when it feels righteous.
People do not give that up willingly. And they will rage at anyone who tries to take it away.