In April last year, Leila, a pseudonym, sat nervously in front of a nurse at a London hospital. An asylum seeker from the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Leila had been held captive, tortured, and raped continually by a group of men prior to being trafficked to the UK. She had suffered a debilitating spinal injury — and been referred for further treatment. When questioned by the nurse about her ordeal, Leila couldn’t recall the details. “I was attacked over a period of time and I fainted a lot,” she says. “So, it is very painful and difficult for me to talk about these things.” The nurse grew visibly irritated at Leila and told her: “If you can’t remember what happened to you, then why are you here?”

Leila says that this wasn’t the first time she’d been insensitively interrogated by a public employee since seeking refuge in the UK. “I had to do my asylum interview with the Home Office in two parts because I couldn’t finish speaking the first time, I was so upset,” she tells me. “When they refused my application, I felt horrible. I told them everything, but they didn’t believe me.” Today, she regularly sees a psychologist who specializes in caring for forced migrants who have lived through sexual violence.

Leila is also receiving treatment for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and depression. “The clinic I go to now is much better,” she says. “But I know there are many women like me who are afraid to talk about what they went through because the doctor or the Home Office won’t be kind to them. They ask you all these questions as if you’re a criminal, and at the end of the day you don’t get any help.”