Fake websites, staged protests, and 'pseudo-atheists': How the industry of fictitious refugees operates - BBC report

From fake news websites to staged political protests and fabricated medical reports, asylum seekers and their assisting consultants use a wide range of falsified evidence to support fraudulent claims.

An investigation by the BBC has uncovered the existence of an entire shadow industry surrounding the asylum system in the United Kingdom. Undercover journalists discovered that asylum seekers and intermediaries, including so-called consultants, employ a broad spectrum of fabricated evidence to obtain refugee status.

This is not about isolated incidents but a well-established system in which migrants are offered paid services to create convincing yet fictitious stories of persecution. Common schemes include forged documents, staged political protests, fake medical reports, and even fabricated news articles.

A BBC journalist, working undercover, underwent training on the asylum application process. Posing as a student from Bangladesh, he expressed interest in seeking asylum as a means to remain in the country.

A man named Zahid Hasan Akhand, who presented himself as a lawyer, explained various options and how to deceive the Home Office.

Gay, atheist, or political activist

According to the intermediary, a person in such a situation has three main scenarios for seeking asylum: claiming persecution based on sexual orientation, religious beliefs, or political activity.

Akhand claimed he would handle the legal aspects of the process, but the choice of 'story'—whether to pretend to be gay, an atheist, or a political activist—was up to the applicant.

Each of these options requires thorough preparation. For legal services costing 1,500 pounds, Akhand promised assistance with the application, preparation for interviews, and conducting several mock interviews.

However, he noted that the applicant must provide convincing evidence to persuade the Home Office of the authenticity of their story.

Akhand added that, if necessary, he could connect the client with individuals who could help create such 'evidence' if no other options were available. The cost of such services ranges from 2,000 to 3,000 pounds, and the type of materials required depends on the chosen scenario.

For instance, in the case of the 'atheist line,' he recommended starting by posting content on social media that insults Islam or the Prophet Muhammad. According to him, this could provoke threats, which could later be used as evidence of persecution.

Additionally, he suggested establishing contacts with atheist organizations in the UK and Bangladesh that run blogs and online publications, where materials could be published for a fee to enhance the credibility of the story. He also advised using artificial intelligence tools like ChatGPT to write posts and articles.

He further noted that the applicant would need to attend events organized by ex-Muslim communities and speak at them, emphasizing, 'This is no longer the era of posts; it’s the era of live streams.'

Akhand also proposed a possible line of behavior for the Home Office interview. According to him, the applicant could claim to have become an atheist only after arriving in the UK, while not being one in their home country.

As an alternative, he suggested that in Bangladesh, such activities could be conducted anonymously—for example, publishing under a pseudonym. 

At the same time, Akhand stressed that verifying such claims is extremely difficult: 'It’s impossible to determine who is truly an atheist and who isn’t. You told me you’re not an atheist—so you’re not. But there’s no system that can check this.'

According to Akhand, the 'political' scenario is the most complex, as it requires evidence of criminal or administrative persecution in the country of origin, up to the initiation of a case against the applicant,' the publication writes.

The investigation pays particular attention to the practice of simulating affiliation with the LGBT community. For a fee, intermediaries coach clients on how to behave during interviews and what answers to give to convince immigration authorities of the risk of persecution in their home country. In some cases, even fictitious partners or 'support' from nonexistent organizations are offered.

'It’s much easier,' Akhand claims, 'to choose the sexual orientation 'line,' as in this case, they won’t dig too deeply into your past.'

'Questions related to homosexuality are personal, whereas politics and atheism are public spheres,' he noted. 'Therefore, proving the latter is significantly harder.'

Akhand added that, if necessary, he could 'connect the client with people who deal with such matters,' the BBC writes.

The services of such 'consultants' cost hundreds or thousands of pounds, and clients are often promised a high chance of success. According to the investigation, these schemes operate quite openly and attract an increasing number of people willing to exploit vulnerabilities in the system.

Fake websites

Akhand is far from the only consultant willing to assist in filing false asylum claims, the publication points out. BBC journalists managed to uncover a series of similar cases processed with the involvement of another Bangladeshi lawyer between 2018 and 2021. Judging by the available data, a significant portion of these applications were approved.

In most cases, applicants claimed to face persecution on both religious and sexual grounds—as atheists and as gay or bisexual individuals.

As evidence, online publications were used, posted on websites that positioned themselves as news resources. However, an analysis of open data revealed that the network of these sites was created by a person connected to this group.

In several articles, it was claimed that the applicants were allegedly involved in lawsuits in Bangladesh related to their political or religious activities. However, no confirmation of the existence of such cases could be found on official resources.

In other publications on related sites, there were mentions of alleged same-sex marriages of the applicants, accompanied by a 'wave of homophobic criticism' or threats from unidentified individuals.

It appears that these web resources were created deliberately to fabricate the illusion of persecution and support asylum claims, the publication writes.

'Political protests'

In other cases, according to available data, photographs from so-called political protests were used, which were organized solely for the purpose of photographing participants. These images were then submitted to the Home Office as 'evidence' of political activity and persecution.

Journalists also obtained testimonies from several asylum seekers who claimed that paid consultants recommended they visit general practitioners and simulate symptoms of depression. The resulting medical records were later used to support fictitious claims. In one case, a person even claimed to have pretended to be living with HIV.

In addition to fabricating evidence, intermediaries train clients on how to behave during key interviews with the Home Office, where the credibility of their stories is assessed.

One consultant told the undercover journalist that he provides sample questionnaires with questions recently asked of other applicants to help them better prepare for the interview.

One asylum seeker recounted that his lawyer instructed him not only on the content of his answers but also on facial expressions and emotional reactions in front of Home Office representatives.

'She told me to cry,' he said. 'I replied, “I can’t cry… I don’t know how to act.”'

Overall, the BBC report demonstrates that humanitarian mechanisms are, in some cases, being turned into tools for circumventing migration rules.

Against this backdrop, the picture becomes even more telling: a significant portion of so-called 'political emigrants' from Azerbaijan, who have built careers on high-profile criticism of their country from abroad, inevitably fall under a shadow of doubt. The uncovered schemes—from fabricating 'evidence' to deliberately crafting legends—show how easily a story of 'persecution' can be constructed if desired. This raises the possibility that for many such figures, the status of 'victim of the system' may not reflect reality but rather result from participation in a cynical and well-oiled industry of fictitious asylum.

Against this background, it is hard to ignore another aspect: a significant portion of so-called 'political emigrants' from Azerbaijan, who actively criticize the authorities from abroad, raises increasing questions. The described schemes—with fabricated evidence, staged stories, and 'training' of applicants—suggest that for many of them, obtaining asylum may not have been the result of real persecution but rather a consequence of participating in such fictitious mechanisms.