Refugees from Iran, Afghanistan, Syria, Eritrea, Somalia and Ukraine have successfully integrated into local communities across the length and breadth of Scotland. ‘New Scots’, a two-year project by photographer Angela Catlin and the Scottish Refugee Council, shares their stories. At a time of increasingly toxic debate over asylum seekers and refugees in the UK, the project shows the positive contribution refugees bring to their new communities.
It was ten days after Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022 when Olha Kivlin fled her homeland.
As Russian tanks rumbled through her country and bombs began to fall, she left Cherkasy, a central city of about 300,000 people that sits on the banks of the Dnipro River, around 200 km from Kyiv.
“I left with nothing but the clothes on my back and documents in my bag,” says Kivlin, who spent a few months in Poland as a refugee before the UK accepted her. It is more than four years since Vladimir Putin’s illegal attack on Ukraine, an ongoing war that has left 200,000 Ukrainians dead and up to six million people displaced as refugees, with most crossing borders to neighbouring countries for safety. There are now 1,340,360 Ukrainians in Germany, 977,980 in Poland and 263,750 in the UK, among other countries.
Of that total, 29,112 Ukrainians have come to Scotland, their lives severely disrupted and in limbo as the war continues with no apparent end in sight. Kivlin – now living in Perth – says the Russian invasion changed her life completely. On escaping Cherkasy, she left her whole world behind – her job, home, dad, dog, and all her friends – but while the last four years have brought angst and turmoil Olha says life in Scotland has been good.
“People have been incredibly kind,” she says. “The scenery here is breathtaking – I’d actually never seen mountains before moving to Scotland.”
Olha is one of 40 refugees photographed by Angela Catlin, an award-winning photojournalist who spent two years travelling across Scotland to take portraits of people displaced by war and human rights abuses.
The project, entitled ‘New Scots’, was commissioned by the Scottish Refugee Council to mark its 40th birthday and Catlin’s portraits have been exhibited at the Scottish Parliament, in Edinburgh, the Mitchell Library, Glasgow, and Gracefield Arts Centre, in Dumfries.
To meet ‘New Scots’, she travelled far and wide. She visited Arbroath, Inverurie, Inverness, Kirriemuir and Crieff, among other Scottish towns and cities, as well as several islands.
In Stornoway, on the Isle of Lewis, she pictured teenager Abdullah Al Nakeeb on the beach with his brothers, Majid, aged 11, and two-year-old, Yazan, who was born in Scotland – boys from a Syrian family that arrived on the Hebridean island in 2017.
In Rothesay, on the Isle of Bute, she met the Fasi family, also from Syria. They run a local barber’s shop, a patisserie, and a beauty salon. One of the sons, Yahya, is a football coach with St Mirren football club, based in Paisley.
Other refugees Catlin photographed – now scattered across Scotland – came from Colombia, Iran, Sudan, Eritrea, Afghanistan, Somalia, and Yemen.
“What I found were people who had been at their most vulnerable in their home country, now adapting, adjusting and looking forward,” Catlin says.
“Children being born in Scotland, growing up in a safe environment and families integrating into their new communities. I hope the exhibition can at the very least increase awareness of New Scots and the richness of culture and positivity they bring.”
She documented some deeply personal moments including the wedding of Olha who married Scotsman Ben Kivlin in Perth on 12 July 2024. Olha met him after he’d travelled to Ukraine on a humanitarian trip. She says they are “very happy”, as is her son, Lev, who speaks fluent English with a slight Scottish accent. Olha’s mum is also now in Scotland.
“My son is 13 now and he’s really settled in,” Olha says. “He loves the local scouts, enjoys climbing, and is a huge fan of the traditional food here. He actually prefers the school system here; he finds it much more manageable than the Ukrainian one.
“My mom is a seamstress, and she found a job at a local clothing alteration shop. Also, I’m so happy that I managed to bring my dog over from Ukraine.”
Olha’s biggest challenge has been rebuilding her career. In Ukraine, she was a college lecturer in art and design for 15 years but getting those qualifications recognised in Scotland was an uphill battle.
She had to track down official documents including one from Kharkiv Academy, which “practically has no windows now” having been bombed by the Russians. It took six months.
“Even after becoming a registered teacher, I felt invisible,” Olha says.
“I sent out over 30 applications and didn’t get a single interview or any feedback. It was soul-crushing, especially since I was working in schools as a pupil support assistant and could see the teacher shortage firsthand.
“I’d be in an art class that I was qualified to lead, but it was being covered by an English teacher. That was really tough on my professional self-esteem.”
Thanks to her language tutor at college, Olha was introduced to a sculptor and started working in his gallery, teaching drawing classes for beginner adults and clay classes for kids.
Later, she spent two years working in schools with Ukrainian children with additional support needs from fostered families. While recent years brought fraught times, Olha says she’s survived with “much care and support” from family and friends.
The New Scots project comes as protests in Scotland against migrants are spreading. It is often said that Scotland is more welcoming to refugees than other parts of the UK, notably England.
But that claim is disputed and since last summer there have been protests against refugees and asylum seekers – some of which turned violent – in Aberdeen, Edinburgh, Dundee, Falkirk, Perth, and Inverness, among other Scottish towns and cities.
The Scottish Refugee Council says Scotland has a “proud history” of welcoming refugees but warns that a “small but vocal minority are scapegoating people who have come to Scotland seeking safety and causing fear and division” in our communities.
“Conflicts don’t start with bullets, they start with words, and the language we’re all using matters,” says the charity.
Its warning is echoed by Dr Steve Kirkwood, head of social work at the University of Edinburgh, who says refugees in Scotland often experience harassment, abuse and racism, as they do elsewhere.
However, he adds that recent research on Scottish attitudes towards immigration suggests more people north of the border wish it to increase rather than decrease – immigration appears to be less of an important issue here than in England.
Arguing there are “some important distinctions” at a policy level that make Scotland “more supportive of people who seek asylum” when compared with England, he cites the New Scots Refugee Integration Strategy, a Scottish Government initiative involving the Scottish Refugee Council, local authorities and other organisations. Its aim is to ensure refugees can access essential services such as education, housing, health and employment, all devolved powers of the Scottish Parliament.
He also says Scotland received a higher proportion per capita of Syrian refugees compared with England, and that there was a “very positive response” to Ukrainians displaced by the Russian invasion.
The New Scots policy is also raised by Alison Phipps, UNESCO Chair for Refugee Integration through Education, Languages and Arts, at the University of Glasgow, who says its principles have been praised by the UN High Commissioner for Refugees.
“This is the kind of international respect that grown-up policy making receives,” she says, adding it suggests that Scotland is doing the “hard graft of trying to get a chronically underfunded sector and a group of people maligned repeatedly by the UK government, to live their lives alongside their neighbours in ordinary and dignified ways”.
Catlin believes that the 40 refugees she photographed “all felt welcome”. They include Shatha Altowai who says that since moving to Edinburgh she is “able to be normal again”.
Shatha is a refugee from Yemen, a nation riven by conflict for more than a decade, albeit there’s been a tentative ceasefire in place for two years. A visual artist, she lives in Edinburgh with her partner, Saber Bamatraf, a musician. The couple moved to Scotland in 2020 and say they have settled well.
“I feel like I’m inside a movie,” Shatha says. “War was my normal life so I’m now in a peaceful place.”
EDINBURGH – Shatha Altowi (artist) with husband Saber Bamatraf (musician) arrived from Yemen to Scotland in November 2020. Shatha is a visual artist and Saber a musician. Now that they feel safe and settled in Edinburgh, they are focusing on producing art, immersing themselves in the community and leaving a positive impact.
Shatha, who studied IT in Yemen, is doing a Master’s degree in creative industries at Edinburgh University, and Saber is studying music composition at the same institution.
“I am a self-taught piano player and composer,” he says. “I graduated in Yemen with a bachelors in IT because there are no music schools in Yemen, so that’s why we ended up in IT.”
For Shatha, arriving in Scotland was a “culture shock” in terms of the weather, the accent, and even the different types of clothing. But she’s settled well in Scotland’s capital and adores the scenery.
“I only saw these kinds of beautiful scenes in movies,” she says. “It’s more than a home.
“You don’t choose where you’re born but you can choose your identity, and I feel like I belong here more than Yemen to be honest. Here, I feel safe, I feel like I can be myself. It’s where I feel welcome.”
Saber agrees. “We consider ourselves very, very lucky and fortunate to be here in Edinburgh,” he says. His initial impression of Scotland was “it was just like a dream” and for the first year he was afraid to open his eyes in the morning in case he was back in Yemen. “I could never have imagined that we could make it to such a safe, peaceful world.”
They miss Yemeni food and their families but both believe they have a bright future in Scotland. Their long-term goal is to run an organisation – based in Scotland but with global influence – that supports cultural rights and artists at risk from human rights abuses around the world.
Read more: Refugee Day: Journalism, fiction and photography telling refugee stories around the world
“I think Scotland will be our main home,” Saber says. “I cannot think of living or moving to any other place than Edinburgh.”
Back in Perth, Olha offers her thanks to Scotland. “I’m so grateful to see how much people here support Ukraine – whether it’s fundraising for vehicles for the frontline, sending humanitarian aid, or helping local Ukrainian families. The council does a lot.
“My son’s primary school teacher did an incredible job making him feel welcome when he started with almost no English. From my college tutors to my colleagues, the support has been immense. I’ve seen Scottish people host my Ukrainian friends and become like family to them. It’s truly heartwarming.”
All photographs by Angela Catlin.
