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Jimmy Mubenga's widow: 'We never forget him' Jimmy Mubenga's widow: 'We never forget him'
(2 months later)
The police called Adrienne Makenda Kambana from her husband's phone. His number had flashed up and she rushed for it, thinking this was the call he promised he would make when he arrived in Angola after losing a long deportation battle. When she heard the unfamiliar voice on the phone, telling her it was the police, she dropped it in shock.The police called Adrienne Makenda Kambana from her husband's phone. His number had flashed up and she rushed for it, thinking this was the call he promised he would make when he arrived in Angola after losing a long deportation battle. When she heard the unfamiliar voice on the phone, telling her it was the police, she dropped it in shock.
She knew something terrible had happened, and she was frightened. She asked her brother-in-law to come round; he called the police for her. All they said was they needed to speak to Adrienne and that, she says, was when she knew her husband was dead.She knew something terrible had happened, and she was frightened. She asked her brother-in-law to come round; he called the police for her. All they said was they needed to speak to Adrienne and that, she says, was when she knew her husband was dead.
Several hours earlier, Jimmy Mubenga had been put on a plane, accompanied by three private security contractors from G4S, the notorious multinational that appears to lurch from one scandal to the next – following last year's failure to fulfil its contract to provide security guards for the Olympics, this week it was announced G4S would be facing investigation by the Serious Fraud Office for allegedly overcharging the justice ministry tens of millions of pounds on its electronic tagging contracts. Worse are the allegations of racism, and use of force, including on children and a pregnant woman, according to one report last year.Several hours earlier, Jimmy Mubenga had been put on a plane, accompanied by three private security contractors from G4S, the notorious multinational that appears to lurch from one scandal to the next – following last year's failure to fulfil its contract to provide security guards for the Olympics, this week it was announced G4S would be facing investigation by the Serious Fraud Office for allegedly overcharging the justice ministry tens of millions of pounds on its electronic tagging contracts. Worse are the allegations of racism, and use of force, including on children and a pregnant woman, according to one report last year.
We meet in the London offices of the campaign organisation Inquest, which has supported Adrienne in her fight to find out what happened to her husband on board a British Airways plane one Tuesday night in October 2010 as it waited to take off. She is an elegant, dignified woman. She speaks in halting sentences. When she makes rare eye contact, I can see she is close to tears.We meet in the London offices of the campaign organisation Inquest, which has supported Adrienne in her fight to find out what happened to her husband on board a British Airways plane one Tuesday night in October 2010 as it waited to take off. She is an elegant, dignified woman. She speaks in halting sentences. When she makes rare eye contact, I can see she is close to tears.
An inquest into Mubenga's death ended this week, with a jury recording a verdict of unlawful killing. They heard how there had been a struggle, and Mubenga had been heavily restrained by the guards for around 35 minutes, his hands cuffed behind his back. Bent forwards in his seat – the guards had claimed he was doing this himself – Mubenga had been shouting, saying he couldn't breathe. When he went quiet and it was clear something was wrong, the plane, by then taxiing to the runway, returned to the stand and paramedics were called.An inquest into Mubenga's death ended this week, with a jury recording a verdict of unlawful killing. They heard how there had been a struggle, and Mubenga had been heavily restrained by the guards for around 35 minutes, his hands cuffed behind his back. Bent forwards in his seat – the guards had claimed he was doing this himself – Mubenga had been shouting, saying he couldn't breathe. When he went quiet and it was clear something was wrong, the plane, by then taxiing to the runway, returned to the stand and paramedics were called.
The jury foreman said: "Based on the evidence we have heard, we find that Mr Mubenga was pushed or held down by one or more of the guards, causing his breathing to be impeded … The guards, we believe, would have known that they would have caused Mr Mubenga harm in their actions, if not serious harm."The jury foreman said: "Based on the evidence we have heard, we find that Mr Mubenga was pushed or held down by one or more of the guards, causing his breathing to be impeded … The guards, we believe, would have known that they would have caused Mr Mubenga harm in their actions, if not serious harm."
The eight-week inquest highlighted a number of issues with forced deportations and the private security firms contracted to carry them out: the restraint methods used, even though they are well known to carry lethal risks; the alleged lack of training; the way individual guards are paid according to whether a deportation is successfully carried out or not; the nature of the people employed as guards (two of the three who were escorting Mubenga were found to have a large number of extremely racist texts on their phones).The eight-week inquest highlighted a number of issues with forced deportations and the private security firms contracted to carry them out: the restraint methods used, even though they are well known to carry lethal risks; the alleged lack of training; the way individual guards are paid according to whether a deportation is successfully carried out or not; the nature of the people employed as guards (two of the three who were escorting Mubenga were found to have a large number of extremely racist texts on their phones).
Adrienne wasn't given any details of how her husband had died. At some point she was told Mubenga must have had a heart attack, which sounded unlikely given he was 46 and a strong, fit man. "I couldn't believe he had died," she says quietly. "How? Why?" Her children – they have five, the eldest now 19 and the youngest three – had come home that day when the police called to find her crying. All she says, over and over again, is: "They were shocked. Shocked."Adrienne wasn't given any details of how her husband had died. At some point she was told Mubenga must have had a heart attack, which sounded unlikely given he was 46 and a strong, fit man. "I couldn't believe he had died," she says quietly. "How? Why?" Her children – they have five, the eldest now 19 and the youngest three – had come home that day when the police called to find her crying. All she says, over and over again, is: "They were shocked. Shocked."
A week later, she was able to see his body. "He looked like he was sleeping. The kids wanted to go, but I said no." She and Mubenga had met in Angola in 1992, and were together for nine months before they married. "He was a good person. Quiet. That's why I liked him." She is reluctant to talk about what made them decide to come to the UK in 1994, but Mubenga's lawyer has previously said he was a student leader, in a country in the grip of civil war, who had received death threats. Adrienne came first, in March, heavily pregnant. She gave birth to their first child two months later, and Mubenga arrived in June to his new family and life.A week later, she was able to see his body. "He looked like he was sleeping. The kids wanted to go, but I said no." She and Mubenga had met in Angola in 1992, and were together for nine months before they married. "He was a good person. Quiet. That's why I liked him." She is reluctant to talk about what made them decide to come to the UK in 1994, but Mubenga's lawyer has previously said he was a student leader, in a country in the grip of civil war, who had received death threats. Adrienne came first, in March, heavily pregnant. She gave birth to their first child two months later, and Mubenga arrived in June to his new family and life.
Eventually they settled in Ilford; both were granted exceptional leave to remain in 2000 (Adrienne is now a British citizen). Mubenga was working as a forklift driver, and she was doing a hairdressing and beauty course at college. She describes Mubenga as a devoted father, who would try to arrange his shifts so he could collect the children from school most days. "The parents at school, they didn't know me," she says, smiling. "They would only see me once a week. He would go 10 minutes before to chat to the other parents."Eventually they settled in Ilford; both were granted exceptional leave to remain in 2000 (Adrienne is now a British citizen). Mubenga was working as a forklift driver, and she was doing a hairdressing and beauty course at college. She describes Mubenga as a devoted father, who would try to arrange his shifts so he could collect the children from school most days. "The parents at school, they didn't know me," she says, smiling. "They would only see me once a week. He would go 10 minutes before to chat to the other parents."
It was a brawl in a nightclub that led to Mubenga's conviction for actual bodily harm and he was sent to prison in March 2006. "For me, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He told me he didn't do anything." Mubenga served his sentence and was then transferred to an immigration detention centre. "He didn't want to go back [to Angola]. He would say no, no, no. He didn't want to leave the children." A protracted and increasingly desperate legal battle began, during which the family changed solicitors several times because they didn't feel they were being given good enough legal advice. "I didn't know what to do. Every night I cried but I didn't want my kids to see it, and when I went outside people didn't know [how upset she was]."It was a brawl in a nightclub that led to Mubenga's conviction for actual bodily harm and he was sent to prison in March 2006. "For me, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He told me he didn't do anything." Mubenga served his sentence and was then transferred to an immigration detention centre. "He didn't want to go back [to Angola]. He would say no, no, no. He didn't want to leave the children." A protracted and increasingly desperate legal battle began, during which the family changed solicitors several times because they didn't feel they were being given good enough legal advice. "I didn't know what to do. Every night I cried but I didn't want my kids to see it, and when I went outside people didn't know [how upset she was]."
She remembers the children being taken to see him in the detention centre by a friend while Adrienne was recovering after an operation. "They were so excited to see him. He bought sweets for them from the [vending] machines. He was so happy. He phoned me and said, 'I'm really proud of you'." She starts to cry. "He told me," she says in a whisper, "that I was a good mother because the children were … They wanted to go and see him every weekend." But he eventually stopped the children coming because it was becoming too upsetting for them.She remembers the children being taken to see him in the detention centre by a friend while Adrienne was recovering after an operation. "They were so excited to see him. He bought sweets for them from the [vending] machines. He was so happy. He phoned me and said, 'I'm really proud of you'." She starts to cry. "He told me," she says in a whisper, "that I was a good mother because the children were … They wanted to go and see him every weekend." But he eventually stopped the children coming because it was becoming too upsetting for them.
Mubenga had been in the detention centre for about a year when he was granted bail and as part of the conditions, he had to report in every week. One day, Mubenga went to report and never came home. "He called me and told me he wasn't allowed to come back. He didn't know why." Shortly afterwards, Adrienne found out she was pregnant and, as with her first, she gave birth to their fifth child – a longed-for girl – without her husband by her side. Seven months later, in October 2010, Mubenga was put on a flight bound for Luanda, Angola.Mubenga had been in the detention centre for about a year when he was granted bail and as part of the conditions, he had to report in every week. One day, Mubenga went to report and never came home. "He called me and told me he wasn't allowed to come back. He didn't know why." Shortly afterwards, Adrienne found out she was pregnant and, as with her first, she gave birth to their fifth child – a longed-for girl – without her husband by her side. Seven months later, in October 2010, Mubenga was put on a flight bound for Luanda, Angola.
Guards at the removal centre reported seeing him crying in his room earlier that day, distraught at leaving his family. "I was on the phone with him [when he was on the plane]," says Adrienne. "He was so upset. He wanted to speak to the kids. He told the oldest that he needed to look after his mother, and that he would see him again." He told Adrienne he would call her back.Guards at the removal centre reported seeing him crying in his room earlier that day, distraught at leaving his family. "I was on the phone with him [when he was on the plane]," says Adrienne. "He was so upset. He wanted to speak to the kids. He told the oldest that he needed to look after his mother, and that he would see him again." He told Adrienne he would call her back.
Last year, 21 months after Mubenga's death, the Crown Prosecution Service announced there would be no charges. "I was shocked. I couldn't believe it. Someone died, and you say you can't charge them? Why?" She went to a meeting with Keir Starmer, the director of public prosecutions. "I ask him, you said you can't charge them but you tell me what was the cause of death? I said I need an answer. My mind was all over the place, thinking what to do. Jimmy can't die like this because I know in this country there is a law. The law should do something, and I was surprised they didn't." The CPS is now reviewing that decision after the verdict of the inquest.Last year, 21 months after Mubenga's death, the Crown Prosecution Service announced there would be no charges. "I was shocked. I couldn't believe it. Someone died, and you say you can't charge them? Why?" She went to a meeting with Keir Starmer, the director of public prosecutions. "I ask him, you said you can't charge them but you tell me what was the cause of death? I said I need an answer. My mind was all over the place, thinking what to do. Jimmy can't die like this because I know in this country there is a law. The law should do something, and I was surprised they didn't." The CPS is now reviewing that decision after the verdict of the inquest.
The hardest part of the inquest, she says, wasn't hearing the evidence from the guards, but from the crew and passengers on the plane who'd heard her husband begging for help. One witness, who had been sitting a few rows ahead of Mubenga, said: "As I took my seat I heard a male's voice shouting 'Let me up, you're killing me. You're killing me. You're killing me. I cannot breathe. I cannot breathe'." Although the guards claimed not to have heard him, the inquest heard from witnesses that Mubenga had begged for help around 50 times.The hardest part of the inquest, she says, wasn't hearing the evidence from the guards, but from the crew and passengers on the plane who'd heard her husband begging for help. One witness, who had been sitting a few rows ahead of Mubenga, said: "As I took my seat I heard a male's voice shouting 'Let me up, you're killing me. You're killing me. You're killing me. I cannot breathe. I cannot breathe'." Although the guards claimed not to have heard him, the inquest heard from witnesses that Mubenga had begged for help around 50 times.
"No one tried to do anything," says Adrienne quietly. "Some of them said they were scared, but scared of what? I don't know. His hands were cuffed, he couldn't have done anything to them. He died because he couldn't get help. He did not deserve this kind of death. He would have given you help if he could. But for him, no one was there.""No one tried to do anything," says Adrienne quietly. "Some of them said they were scared, but scared of what? I don't know. His hands were cuffed, he couldn't have done anything to them. He died because he couldn't get help. He did not deserve this kind of death. He would have given you help if he could. But for him, no one was there."
Her wish, she says, was for a verdict of unlawful killing, and when that came back, she says she was "happy and sad. My happiness was the truth is coming out. My sadness was why did Jimmy die like that, in front of people?"Her wish, she says, was for a verdict of unlawful killing, and when that came back, she says she was "happy and sad. My happiness was the truth is coming out. My sadness was why did Jimmy die like that, in front of people?"
It is still not over. The next step is a meeting with the CPS, and another meeting with Lord Ramsbotham, the former chief inspector of prisons and crossbench peer who has supported the family and described the initial CPS decision as "perverse". "I want to sue them [G4S]," says Adrienne. "I don't want anyone else to be in my shoes. It's not going to go away for me. My mind is damaged. Nothing we can do will change it, nothing at all. But we need to protect people, to make sure all the security guards have training."It is still not over. The next step is a meeting with the CPS, and another meeting with Lord Ramsbotham, the former chief inspector of prisons and crossbench peer who has supported the family and described the initial CPS decision as "perverse". "I want to sue them [G4S]," says Adrienne. "I don't want anyone else to be in my shoes. It's not going to go away for me. My mind is damaged. Nothing we can do will change it, nothing at all. But we need to protect people, to make sure all the security guards have training."
How has she coped? "You try your best. You have no choice." It helps, she says, that her children, even though they are still so young, have been "easy. They understand and they are strong. But all this happening, they have suffered."How has she coped? "You try your best. You have no choice." It helps, she says, that her children, even though they are still so young, have been "easy. They understand and they are strong. But all this happening, they have suffered."
The children talk about him all the time she says, and smiles. "The way we live, we never forget him. But my daughter was a baby. She doesn't know anything about him. She won't have the chance to know him." And her? "I think of Jimmy every second. I feel like someone …" She pauses and her eyes well up. "I'm not the same like I was before."The children talk about him all the time she says, and smiles. "The way we live, we never forget him. But my daughter was a baby. She doesn't know anything about him. She won't have the chance to know him." And her? "I think of Jimmy every second. I feel like someone …" She pauses and her eyes well up. "I'm not the same like I was before."
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