Rapper Cashh speaks to the Mirror about his experience with deportation as his whole life was ripped away from him despite coming to the UK as a young child aged just 6 years old.
When rapper Cashh was deported from the UK, he was sent back to a country he barely remembered – ripped away from his home, his career, and his community. Years later, the South London artist still lives with the trauma of what happened, a daily reminder of what it feels like to be made “no one.”
Now back in Britain, he’s determined to tell his story not just for himself, but for the countless others still trapped in Britain’s broken immigration system. Cashh spoke to the Mirror to raise awareness of what really happens when you’re made to feel like you don’t belong.
He arrived in the UK at the age of six – a move that mirrored the path many Caribbean families have taken going as far back as Windrush. And though he was too young to understand the full picture, the UK quickly became the only home he truly knew.
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“There was just a moment when I realised I’ve been in England longer than I’ve ever been in Jamaica now,” he said. “Jamaica would have been still home and this would have been a strange place, and then eventually it flipped. The pendulum swung – this place became home.”
By the time he was deported, he had been in the UK for 14 years. He knew the things were on the verge and ensured he did everything that he could to stop it – but time proved his fight and years spent in the country didn’t matter to officials. He was stripped of the only life he knew.
“They’re saying the six‑year‑old overstayed, my memory at that age is just going from A to B,” he said. “I don’t know how I got to A to B, but I certainly wasn’t in control of when to go from A to B.”
“Even though I was in the UK, I didn’t know when I was supposed to leave or even if I was supposed to leave – I was just here, so it was a bit unfair to say that I overstayed as a child.”
‘A system stacked against you’
Cashh understood his immigration status as he got older, but kept it private, only sharing it with a few trusted people out of fear – fear of being kicked out, and fear of how people treat those labelled “immigrants.”
“There’s so many different things that people go through when someone knows that you’re illegal in the country,” he said. “Women go through things where they get sexually abused but these are the parts that mainstream media wouldn’t understand or wouldn’t necessarily speak on.”
The deportation came at the worst possible time – the rapper was then known as Cashtastic, he had just signed a deal with Universal Records. Soon after the announcement, someone close to him alerted immigration.
He campaigned to stop his deportation, with support from several organisations including MP Simon Hughes, who tried to intervene, even attempting to try and stop the flight.
‘I was living in limbo and slowly losing myself’
When he landed in Jamaica, things changed instantly. He entered a place he wasn’t familiar with – at most he had very vague memories of the country from funerals, parties – but it felt distant. Still he hoped things would turn around and he’d be able to return to the UK quickly.
“That’s why it took me like two and a half years to settle, because mentally I was still locked up,” he told the Mirror. “In my mind every day, because we were actively working on trying to get me back over here. In my mind it’s going to be another six months, and another six months, and you’re just kind of staying in that mental prison, where you’re working on trying to leave here so much, you’re not actually living here.”
Even in Jamaica, he felt out of place, “I’ve been sent here because I’m not British, I’m Jamaican – and now I’m in Jamaica, they’re looking at me like they’re from over there,” he said.
After five long years, he finally won his legal case and was able to return to the UK. But what should have been a joyous moment turned into another test of endurance.
“The last ten months were the most frustrating part of the five years – a lot of things broke down during that time,” he said. “It’s almost like, I could see the finish line and then it’s like, wait, was that a mirage? Or was it real?”
“Because every single day we’re waiting on a phone call to say ‘it’s time to go and collect your passport.’ and there’s no point of contact – no one for you to get in touch with.”
“Every day was mental torture, I was literally sat there waiting for a phone call – I got to the point where I was numb to it.”
After many years, he finally returned to Britain – an emotional full-circle moment. He had always imagined jumping for joy when the call came but by then, he was mentally worn out. The celebration didn’t come until his feet touched back on UK soil. But what people often assume would end the pain didn’t stop the trauma. Even now, he says he still carries the weight of it.
“I still have PTSD. Every time I fly, I panic – I think are they going to stop me? And they always do.” he said
‘Windrush is only part of the story’
Though not directly part of the Windrush generation, Cashh says he feels culturally and emotionally tied to it and wants people to understand that Britain’s immigration failures go far beyond just that group and it still happens every day.
“I’m from a different category of immigration within the UK – the media is fully aware of Windrush but there’s subsidiaries within the immigration system,” he said. “Regardless of if it’s first‑hand experience or whether I’m in that immigration category, the Windrush generation are still my people. So they still left from where I left from and came over here and helped to build infrastructure, healthcare and all of these things.”
“It’s a passionate feeling for me because in a different sense – I feel the same,” he added. “It’s like I came over here and I did everything that I could do and just like that, the rug gets pulled. I’m pretty sure they didn’t expect it.”
Fighting back and helping others
Now back in the UK, Cashh uses his voice in new ways through music that reflects both his Jamaican roots and British upbringing, and through action. He’s also working on Proud Immigrant Foundation to help others facing the same nightmare he lived through.
“The foundation has always been a dream of mine, to have something that gives back,” he said. “I want to be able to help fund people’s immigration cases and eventually build a facility in Jamaica that way once people do get sent back in similar circumstances that I did, we have a halfway house situation. Because when I got there, I knew nobody to connect with, I didn’t even know where the court was.”
“A lot of people who are deported, go back to where they’re originally from and most times there’s war going on in these places – they lose their life and no one speaks about it, because they don’t know about it.”
For him, the mission is personal – because he knows what happens when you’re put on that plane. “Once you get deported and you get on the plane that’s it. You’re no longer,” he said. Many are still stuck in the same system that he was, and he’s made it his mission to shine a light on the reality for those who’ve lived it.