The Great British Drawbridge: Now With Extra Spice by Lawson Akhigbe

Shabana Mahmood
Suella Braverman
Priti Patel
Sajid Javid

Is it a coincidence that Asian UK politicians have a particular talent for yanking up the drawbridge with the enthusiasm of a castle guard who’s just spotted a caravan of undocumented aunties arriving from Heathrow Terminal 4? At this rate, one begins to suspect that every Asian Home Office appointee takes a solemn oath:

“I, child of immigrants, do hereby swear to close the door with such force that even my ancestors back home will feel the breeze.”

Sajid Javid: Father of the Modern Drawbridge

We start with Sajid Javid, whose shiny dome reflected the light of absolute authority. When the Shamima Begum file landed on his desk, he didn’t hesitate. Citizenship? Expired.
Legal precedent? Activated.

Javid single-handedly introduced “deprivation of citizenship” into the political vocabulary as casually as adding plantain to the Sunday roast. Generations of law students will study him and whisper, “This uncle did not come to play.”

Priti Patel: The Iron Auntie of Border Control

Priti Patel followed like a storm.
She didn’t just tighten borders—she laminated them.

Patel ran the Home Office like a disciplinary boarding school:

No talking,

No nonsense,

No entry.

Her Rwanda plan was pitched with the sincerity of someone offering travel insurance:
“Would you like a one-way trip to Kigali? No refunds, but excellent weather.”

Migrants began double-checking their GPS coordinates mid-Channel, terrified of accidentally entering Patel’s jurisdiction.

Suella Braverman: Border Security With Fire and Brimstone

Then Suella Braverman ascended, radiating the energy of a headmistress who confiscates your phone while announcing a school-wide crackdown.

Her rhetoric made even the Tory backbenchers clutch their pearls.

She didn’t just raise the drawbridge; she set it on fire, installed laser beams, and declared that asylum seekers crossing the Channel constituted an “invasion”—a level of drama that would make Nollywood directors kneel in respect.

And Then Came Rishi Sunak: The CEO of Rwanda Airlines

Enter Britain’s first British-Asian Prime Minister, Rishi Sunak—polished, precise, and determined to make the Rwanda scheme the flagship policy of his premiership.

Where Patel proposed Rwanda, and Braverman fantasised about it, Sunak tried to run it like a startup.
Think:
Rwanda Airways™ — Now Boarding (by force if necessary).

Sunak strolled into No.10 with spreadsheets, flowcharts, and a PowerPoint presentation titled:
“How to Export Migrants to East Africa and Still Smile for the Cameras.”

The man genuinely believed the UK could outsource asylum processing like customer service for a mobile phone company.

He trialled slogans too:

“Stop the boats.”

“Stop the small boats.”

“Stop anything that floats.”

At some point, Britons looked at the Channel and wondered whether even kayakers were safe.

Yet, no matter how many court cases, parliamentary showdowns, or protests erupted, Rishi clung to the Rwanda policy like a toddler clings to a favourite blanket. Even when flights never took off, he posed next to RAF jets like a proud father.

By the end, Rwanda wasn’t an immigration policy — it was an emotional support plan.

Shabana Mahmood: Labour’s New Enforcer-In-Chief

Just when everyone thought Labour would bring tea, sympathy, and warm jumpers for asylum seekers, Shabana Mahmood arrived with paperwork and a megaphone.

She inspected the asylum system and declared, “Chaos. Unacceptable. Bring the clipboard!”
The pigeons had barely recovered from Suella when Mahmood released a fresh batch of policy cats, lean and hungry.

If voters expected compassion, Mahmood made sure they got competence, which—depending on where you’re standing—can feel even scarier.

The Irony Olympics: Asian Edition

So here we are.
Asian politicians—descendants of people once scrutinised at ports—now handling immigration with the zeal of nightclub bouncers who recognise no guest list.

Perhaps it’s overcompensation.
Perhaps it’s political strategy.
Perhaps the Home Office air-conditioning emits a chemical that turns empathy into enforcement.

All we know is this:

Javid set the precedent.

Patel added the bite.

Braverman brought the flamethrower.

Sunak built the Rwanda conveyor belt.

Mahmood tightened the screws.

Somewhere, an old auntie is shaking her head:
“After all our struggles to bring you here, this is how you repay us?”

Conclusion: Britain Will Always Britain

Is any of this a coincidence?
Probably not.
It’s simply Britain continuing its favourite tradition: using immigrants to keep out other immigrants.

Only in the UK can the children of yesterday’s arrivals become the gatekeepers of tomorrow’s departures.

And the drawbridge?
It remains up—
reinforced, electrified, and maintained by people whose grandparents entered the country when border control consisted of a stern look and a clipboard.

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