Once upon a time, in a place very different, a travelling fair would come and visit. It was a wonderful fair with rides and stalls and candy floss. They had hook-a-duck where I could win a goldfish in a bag (is that still allowed?) and I used to spend hours within a womb-like atmosphere of flashing lights and loud music.

I had many favourite rides including the Rotor and, of course, the Waltzer and I loved to run to nab the inside position on the people-mover so that I could really squash my mates on the outside seat. One ride I particularly enjoyed was the cake walk. It had a fabulous moving walkway that hinged up and down like a sawtooth wave and it was more or less impossible to walk along it without falling over.

I remember when I came off those rides, I’d be so dizzy and I’d stagger around for a while until my head stopped spinning. It was brilliant! The thing that made it so good, of course, was that it was a contrast to the stable nature of everyday life. I could never imagine drinking a cup of coffee whilst riding on a waltzer or, indeed, eating cake on the cake walk.

Everyone needs stability. Many people need a permanent home, a job, a car, relationship etc and even the most nomadic people develop their own ways to have their stability. However, people who live in the secure estate do not have it. For example, I literally do’t know for sure where I will be sleeping tonight because we can be transferred anywhere at any point, either withing this same prison or to somewhere else in Scotland, potentially hundreds of miles away from friends and family.

People living in immigration detention centres won’t know for sure what country they will be in tonight. Children living in secure accommodation have no idea who is going to be their “corporate parent” (a despicable phrase) tonight.

We all try, in our own ways, to develop stability but the more successful we are with that, the more we are affected when we are blindsided by the sucker punch of an unexpected change. Can you imagine not knowing what clothes you will be allowed to wear this afternoon? Or what bed you’ll be in tonight? Or how you can contact your loved ones? How would you feel if the visit which you’ve looked forward to for weeks is cancelled literally at the last minute because you’re being moved?

In effect, now I’m riding that cake walk permanently; every waking minute, I’m struggling to stay upright and it doesn’t feel fun any more.

NaN.