Let them in

"Let them in," said the deep baritone voice that was of Mr Jonathan Peters. "They're humans like us too.”

Emily Watson was dumbfounded by Mr Peters' booming voice. Was he allowing the migrants in? Had he any idea about the problems the refugees from war-torn countries would bring?

"I disagree," said Emily. She stood up to address Mr Peters, "Letting them in is going to be a huge mistake."

The entire room was silent. No one ever dared to question Mr Peters’ decisions, for he had complete veto powers to decide on the country's borders.

"I think it's going to be a huge mistake," said Emily, "Allowing entry to these migrants is going to make London a sitting duck!”

"Mistake?" retorted Mr Peters, "Emily, have you any idea that your beliefs are in absolute contradiction to human rights? How could you even think of letting these people suffer?"

Emily replied Mr Peters' words with a dash of anger.

"For gods sake, they don’t know the first principle of human rights," said Emily, "They hail from countries that have never heard of human rights. They're just coming here to spread their way of life; that's all!"

Some of the other members were thinking that Emily's stand was right. But they dared not voice it out, for everything had to be politically correct in this room.

"Emily," said Mr Peters in a voice full of restrained anger, "You can't judge these people by their religion or way of life. Just last week, you said that you would rather die than allow Donald Trump to enter this country. Your thinking is just like his, ignorant and foolish."

"I am neither ignorant nor foolish," said Emily, "I'm just saying this for the safety of the UK and the Commonwealth."

"Safety? You think any of the migrants had any safety net? They risked their lives coming this far."

"And for what? Britain isn't their new Middle East," yelled Emily.

Emily and Mr Peters' debate was getting out of hand. The rest of the advisors were tempted to step in, but on their better judgement, they decided it would be wiser just to sit back and enjoy the show.

"I agree with your concerns Emily, but these people bring no harm," said Mr Peters, “Look at their faces, all yearning for a new life after decades of oppression. We're lucky to be born in the Commonwealth where freedoms are aplenty."

"Looks can be deceiving," argued Emily, "You may see suffering on their faces but their ultimate goal is to stuff their extremist ideology down our throats."

Mr Peters was about to reply, but Emily persisted.

"It may be politically correct to bring these people in, but have you spared a thought for us, women? The migrants have absolutely no respect for the fairer sex. Their religion makes them treat us as mere objects with no rights. I doubt that I could even debate with you like this if these people had their way."

"You can't bring religion into this," said Mr Peters, "Religion is not at fault here; it's the people. If they were as sexist as you think, why could I see that two-fifth of the people down at the gates are women?"

Emily had no answers for Mr Peters' words. She was not going to give up so fast, yet she could feel the tide turning against her.

"Emily," began Mr Peters, "We have been blessed with good fortune to be born in this nation.  The Arabs are blessed with oil too but they're not as successful as us."

"How is that even relevant?"

"A thousand years ago, during the Middle Ages, Europe was a wasteland. The Middle East was then flourishing with a hive of intellectual and scientific discourses. People from stagnated backwaters of Europe were flocking to these lands to have a piece of the action. If they could take us in then, and treat us as one of their own, why can't we do it now?"

Emily was silent. She finally realised that Mr Peters had a point.

"No Syrian, I believe, would have wanted to be born in a civil war like theirs. Disaster had ravaged the childhood of many. We have a memorable tale to tell about our childhood days, but some of these children never had a single happy moment in their lives."

"We can let the children in if you are hell-bent on giving them a good future. We cannot do the same to their parents. They are going to be the ones who radicalise their children and make them terrorists."

"How can you believe in such hogwash?" asked Mr Peters, who was beginning to lose patience with this girl.

"It's true..." Emily began, but before she could complete her sentence, Mr Peters butted in.

"Emily," said Mr Peters, "The only way we can curb this problem is through inclusiveness! Making them feel loved in our country!"

Emily was baffled by Mr Peters' words. Talk about making them feel loved, she thought. These migrants were only going to bring in more social problems.

Her heart sank when she thought of her now-deceased fiancé, Lucas. Lucas had been the closest person she had ever been with, and she loved him deeply. Her troubled mind flashed back to the day she was engaged.

"Lucas," said Emily, "I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. Please don't go to Paris."

"Emily my dear," said Lucas, "This is going to be my last trip to Paris. You know very well that I have a business to run there. Please, I promise you it will be my last journey."

Lucas smiled, and that was the last time she saw his charming smile. Eight hours later, Emily received the devastating news that her husband-to-be, Lucas had been killed in the Paris attacks. She was devastated. She cried and mourned for her fiancé for two weeks.

She may have recovered from the incident but the wounds of Lucas' death still lingered. If he were to let them in, thousands of people are going to suffer just like me, she thought.

"I strongly disagree with your views," said Emily calmly, "The love that you intend to give them is going to backfire on us."

"It will not," said Mr Peters, "We can include them in our plans."

"Really?" said Emily as she rolled her eyes, "How exactly are you going to do that?"

Mr Peters did not reply her words, but instead stood up.

"Gentlemen... And Emily," he addressed his subordinates with a look in his eye, "All of us want to be remembered here for the right reasons, don't we?"

They all nodded, except for Emily.

"All of you here have your own baggage and stories to tell. Not all of us are the same. Hence, everyone has a different opinion on how we should tackle this. "

"But mind over matter is not going to solve the problem. These people are helpless and stranded over 9000 miles away from their homelands. How inhumane would it be for them if we were to go down there and tell them to go back to where they came from?"

Emily was about to intercept but fell silent. She realised the truth in his words.

"These people need a new home. And we, members of the Commonwealth, need to make that happen. We need to be inclusive and appreciate their diversity and culture. If we are going to create an equal and just world for everyone, we need to give these migrants a second chance. That is, a new home and a new life."

"If we are going to be an inclusive Commonwealth, we should just let them in and not worry about the 'what-ifs'."

Mr Peters sat in his chair, panting from his speech. A few seconds of silence had occupied the room before loud thunderous applause ensued.

Everyone in the room realised that Mr Peters was right. Apparently, his words had effectively dissed out Emily's arguments. The right thing to do was to let them in and be the inclusive Commonwealth that they had all yearned to be.

However, Emily was not going to tolerate Mr Peters’ explanation. She jumped out of her chair and yelled, "Do you not care about people's lives?"

"Emily," said Mr Peters, who had run out of patience, "I do care about other people's lives. But if you were one of them waiting for a new life, would you like it if someone was to discriminate you and declare you a criminal for no substantial reason?"

Emily fell silent. She looked outside the gate, at the migrants. Their faces were devoid of expression, and they were all impatiently waiting to start life anew. I think he is right. I can't let them suffer because of my selfishness and fixation on safety. I have to let them in.

“Fine," surrendered Emily,"Let them in.”