t was tragic to hear of the death of Paulette Wilson, who was one of those caught up in the Windrush scandal. She died aged 64; and you must wonder whether the stress of her situation didn’t lead to a premature death. Paulette came to the UK from Jamaica aged 10. She never returned there, grew up in Britain, and worked as a chef for most of her life – including a spell at the House of Commons – had 34 years of National Insurance payments, and had a British child and a British grandchild. But in 2015, the hostile environment policy meant her benefits were stopped, she was sent to Yarl’s Wood detention centre and was very nearly deported. The most important thing to say about Paulette was how incredibly dignified she was throughout. She had that in common with most of the victims of the Windrush scandal. Hers was a generation who came to Britain from Commonwealth countries in the sincere belief that they were coming to the “mother country”. They loved their countries of origin but were proud of being British. And it did not occur to them that they were not British. They had been taught solely British history at school in, had learned to recite British poetry by heart and had been encouraged to revere the British royal family. Paulette described how, when she received the letter from the Home Office about her deportation, she walked around in a dazed state for many days. Completely perplexed, all she could say to herself was: “Why am I illegal?” But this letter and the deportation threat were not random. They were the direct consequence of legislation passed two years earlier. And the Immigration Act of 2014 was not just a Tory bill. The Conservative-Lib Dem coalition was then in government. Sad to say, the Labour party’s official position at that time was not to oppose this legislation. Unfortunately there is a long Labour parliamentary history of “constructive opposition”, as its proponents like to call it. But in truth, this is often neither constructive nor real opposition. Very frequently it is destructive of the rights, liberties or wellbeing of British citizens or those in other countries. The 2014 act created a system of internal security border guards – obliging everyone from teachers, medical professionals, and social workers to landlords and employers to report on people they suspected of being an illegal immigrant. Anyone who gave this a moment’s thought would know in advance that the innocent victims of this would overwhelmingly be people with black and brown skin. People who looked like Paulette. But even if many of my fellow MPs did not give the consequences of their actions a second thought, some of us were there to point them out. We said innocent people who were British citizens would be ensnared in the system, either through confusion or through wilful discrimination by the informant or the bias of the system. Theresa May, then the home secretary, dismissed our concerns and said instead she would “deport first, and hear appeals later”. Jeremy Corbyn, John McDonnell and I were among the small group of MPs who repeatedly voted against the bill becoming law at every stage. But the act passed. Paulette was never actually deported. But as a direct consequence of this legislation and the “hostile environment”, many other British citizens who originated in the Commonwealth were deported, tried to appeal and were refused. Some of them died without ever being reunited with their friends and loved ones. Others were denied healthcare, housing or access to benefits. As Wendy Williams, the author of the government-commissioned Windrush: Lesson Learned review said: “Members of the Windrush generation and their children have been poorly served by this country. They had every right to be here and should never have been caught in the immigration net.” Paulette’s untimely death also reminds us that the victims of the Windrush scandal are an ageing cohort, and consequently the delay in compensating them is a mounting scandal. Paulette apparently got some of the compensation she was entitled to. But unless the Home Office drastically improves the process for obtaining compensation, many more will die without receiving a penny. The claim form is 18 pages long with 44 pages of guidance. Lawyers working with people trying to submit a claim say that many are struggling to provide documentation that they never had, or have long ago put to one side. More than 1,200 claims have been made but there have been just 60 payments. And only £360,000 has been paid out of a compensation pot that officials had estimated should be about £500m. Money cannot compensate for the fear, pain and misery caused to Paulette Wilson and others like her. The material problems caused by the Windrush scandal to its victims were great. But for Paulette and others, what hurt was the humiliation of being told – contrary to what they had believed all their adult lives – that they were not actually British. There have been a lot of crocodile tears from all quarters, particularly from government, about the Windrush scandal. But if this government really wants to honour the memory of Paulette Wilson there are several things it has to do. The government needs to implement the 30 recommendations of the Windrush: Lessons Learned review, including appointing a migrants’ commissioner. It also needs to put an end to the hostile environment, which caused the misery of Paulette and thousands of others like her in the first place: this will involve repealing the 2014 Immigration Act and related legislation. And, above all, the government needs to speed up the compensation scheme to ensure that no more Windrush victims die, like Paulette, without getting the full financial compensation they are entitled to for the injustice they endured. • Diane Abbott was shadow home secretary from 2016 to 2020