Refugees and asylum-seekers using Refugee Sanctuary Scotland’s Bath Street hub in Glasgow are getting more than practical support as they settle into new lives. They are also learning the kind of everyday Glaswegian phrases that can help them feel at home.
Learning the local lingo
Ronald ‘Ronnie’ Tagwireyi, the newly appointed chief executive of Refugee Sanctuary Scotland, said the organisation gives people “a crash course in Ouija.” He was referring to Weegie, the Glasgow dialect, not a spelling mistake that might alarm newcomers.
“Things like ‘I’m away up the road’,” says Mr Tagwireyi, “and ‘I’m brand new, by the way’ and ‘that’s me off then’.”
The Bath Street hub has been operating since early this year. On a recent visit, there were around 20 women practising yoga. In June, more than 500 refugees and asylum-seekers visited the centre, which offers help with claims, accommodation and personal safety.
The space also runs digital skills training, yoga, art workshops, English conversation classes and football sessions. And now, it is helping people understand the local speech that comes with life in Glasgow.
A life shaped by displacement
Mr Tagwireyi’s own route to Scotland was long and difficult. He first arrived in the UK from Zimbabwe in 1991 on a Commonwealth visa and later worked for BT. After the suspicious death of his father and his criticism of the Mugabe regime, he sought asylum in Britain. His claim was refused, with no reason given.
He lost the right to work, experienced homelessness and addiction, and turned to petty crime. He served short sentences in Pentonville and Wandsworth, and said he remained trapped in the asylum system for almost two decades.
A prison officer helped change that. “This man said to me, ‘You’re not a criminal, Ronnie. You can turn things around.’
He later entered rehabilitation, volunteered and went on to hold senior roles with organisations including the Scottish Refugee Council and Migration Exchange. Last year, he was granted limited leave to remain in the UK.
Support, dignity and integration
Mr Tagwireyi said the Bath Street centre is intended to give people more than advice. It is also meant to provide a sense of purpose and dignity for those who may have fled war, persecution or hardship.
He said many arrivals face long waits for decisions from the Home Office, which can take years. During that time, their mental health can suffer.
“They’re just thinking, thinking, thinking and anxious,” says Ronnie. “And their mental health suffers. So this is a place where you can come in and where there is no judgment and people can support each other through challenges.”
He also argued that integration should not be seen as a one-way process. He pointed to traditions in many countries where families care for their elderly rather than placing them in care homes.
“Integration is a two-way street. If you don’t feel welcome, you’re less likely to try to belong. So many people don’t know many of the reasons why people come over.
“Let’s talk about climate change. Here, I’ll speak for Africa, where I’m from. Many countries are enduring temperatures of 45 degrees Celsius for six or seven months of the year and that’s with no rain. People in the West think climate change doesn’t really matter to Africans because we’re used to the heat. But now, we can’t grow anything.”
Mr Tagwireyi said the internet and social media have also changed how people see life elsewhere, making migration feel more possible and more immediate. He said that can shape how families at home view work in the UK and the money sent back through the diaspora.
For the Glasgow centre, though, the immediate focus is practical: helping people settle, stay safe and feel welcome. In that process, a few local phrases may go a long way.