Detention Center

JAPANESE VERSION 日本語版はこちら

“The Detention Centre is worse than a prison… in the Detention Centre you don’t have any time… you don’t know when you are getting out.”

Christopher spent eight months detained at the Tokyo Regional Immigration Bureau in Shinagawa. Reflecting on this experience, he emphasizes how different it was from anything else he has ever experienced, stating that “really it’s a different world” inside the Detention Center. Upon arriving, Christopher was surprised to discover that the facility was ‘guarded like a prison,’ because he had not broken any laws and was not a criminal. What was more shocking to him, however, was the fact that he would be held there indefinitely. Since he ‘never thought they would detain somebody just like that’, Christopher kept ‘expecting to leave the next morning. Every day. Every day.’ But it was not until eight months later, during Japan’s first coronavirus state of emergency, that Christopher was finally released.



1. Detainment

1.1. Arrest and Police Custody

“Why was I being held for crim de violence?!”

When Christopher arrived at the Tokyo Regional Immigration Bureau, he did not expect to be held there. Yet this is where he spent the next eight months in detention. It all started when a convenience store clerk refused to let him use the photocopy machine. Christopher’s attempt to know why he wasn’t to use the machine with an irate and lazy clerk, led to the clerk calling the police. Christopher found himself being taken into custody without any explanation of why this was happening. The experience was both shocking and confusing for Christopher, who questioned how he could have been held for “violent crime” when his interactions at the convenience store had been entirely verbal and non-threatening.

Christopher’s problem of being misunderstood in Japan is far from unique. Writing for the Japan Times, Amy Chavez discusses the ‘woes of the misunderstood gaijin

Although clerks no longer tremble, they still panic and call 119, an in-store English-language hotline that sends off sirens to summon the English speaker on the staff to translate.

“Okay, call my lawyer… because I have to go to the Immigration after two or three days.”

Christopher was taken to the local police station and questioned. At that point, the police officers discovered Christopher’s soon-to-expire visa status, and they immediately changed their approach, just letting him sit in the room. Recounting the investigation, Christopher suggests that the police deliberately held him in local custody until his visa had expired, thus creating a reason for him to be taken to the Detention Centre.

“So now they started verifying my documents… And when I gave them my documents they saw that I only had some few days left to go to the immigration, they changed the person… they wasted time with me, wasted time with me, wasted time with me. I said “Okay, call my lawyer because I have to go to the Immigration. I can’t stay here because I have to go to the Immigration after two or three days.”

Since Christopher was on a Designated Activities Visa which expired after six months, timely renewal of his status was imperative. However, being held under local police custody meant that he was unable to submit the necessary application before its due date elapsed. This resulted in a violation of the terms of his visa, providing cause for detention and investigation by the immigration authorities.

Reflecting on what took place, Christopher asserts that police intentionally made him overstay his visa so that he would be subject to immigration detention. He claims that the procedure was ‘abnormal’ because his request for a lawyer and his wish to renew his visa was completely ignored. It was not until the fifth day of police custody—after his visa had expired—that Christopher was granted access to a lawyer. Ironically, it was the police that forced Christopher to break the conditions of his visa. 

While it might be abnormal from the Christophers’ perspective, this is standard practice in Japan. Police have the power to detain people whilst they investigate them, for up to 23 days, even for minor offenses. If you are arrested, the police can question you before you are able to speak to a lawyer or an embassy consular officer. Investigations are not usually recorded and lawyers are not present. High-quality interpretation may not always be available.

This 23-day pre-indictment detention is carried out by Japanese law enforcement on a regular basis. In Christopher’s case, police held him for a total of twenty days by utilizing this rule. 

The United Nations has raised concerns regarding this system. In a recent report, they explain that:

In particular, the Committee deeply regrets that under this system, suspects can be detained in police cells for a period of up to 23 days, with limited access to a lawyer especially during the first 72 hours of arrest and without the possibility of bail. The lack of effective judicial control over pre-trial detention in police cells and the lack of an independent and effective inspection and complaints mechanism is also a matter of serious concern.

Such concerns are particularly relevant to Christopher’s case. The 23-day investigation process allowed his immigration status to lapse, enabling police to directly transfer him to the Detention Centre. 

1.2. Arrival at the Shinagawa Detention Centre

After being detained for twenty days at the police station, Christopher was driven directly to the Tokyo Regional Immigration Bureau in Shinagawa. Here he was surprised to find there was a detention facility since he had ‘never known that inside that immigration building, there is a place that people sleep’. Furthermore, he was shocked to discover that it was ‘guarded like a prison’ and found it hard to believe that he was to be detained there. Christopher expected that ‘maybe they were bringing me [to the immigration center] for my lawyer to take me home,’ since his lawyer had been waiting to meet them on the ground floor. However, upon arriving at the immigration center, police officers bypassed his lawyer, taking Christopher straight into an indefinite period of detention.

“In my country… when I had scuffs with the government… I could be taken and locked up but …I had never gone to that type of detention in my life. I found myself like “What is happening? What really is this?”

1.3. Facing Indefinite Detention

“I did not even expect to go in for detention… I was like dreaming that the next day I could go out.”

Christopher never considered the prospect of long-term detention because he ‘never thought they would detain somebody just like that.’ He did ‘not even expect to go in for detention’, let alone for eight months. While he always remained hopeful that he would be released, there was also a need to adjust to life in the Detention Centre. His ability to ‘grow with the situation’ and ‘integrate with the society within’ demonstrates Christopher’s great resilience in the face of prolonged and indefinite detention.

2. Life in the Detention Center

2.1. The Tantō

“It is not funny for the workers. The workers will not take it lightly… When something is bad, they cover it with a smile. Maybe smiling but they are dying inside.”

Most refugee asylum seekers detained at Shinagawa report a dim, even adversarial view of the guards often called “tanto” (or ‘those in charge’). For Christopher also, they informed a large part of Christopher’s experience under detention at Shinagawa. At one point, he explains the systematic intimidation of ‘inmates’ as acts of ‘evil’. And yet, he does not hate the guards individually; unexpectedly, he has a rather sympathetic view of their situation. This is similar in ways that echo his refusal to hold any animosity toward francophones in his own country, pointing out that the everyday citizen, regardless of his linguistic identity, is the one that made or enforced the restrictive laws that hurt anglophones.  Thus, Christopher points out that the tanto is constantly exposed to the negative atmosphere generated by detainees’ frustration and anxiety, even as the guards are the ones who force this situation on the detainees. 

One particularly negative aspect the tantō face while working in the Detention Centre is the need to clean up after detainees who soil themselves. Christopher explains that some of those held in detention at Shinagawa see frailty as their only way out. This is because the provisional release is sometimes granted when the immigration control authority ‘needs to release a detainee for health reason[s]’. However, the Immigration Services Agency’s Q&A page also makes clear that the immigration control authority does not have criteria for making a decision on provisional release’. Even though illness or physical deterioration does not guarantee release from the Detention Centre, Christopher explains that many detainees believe that they ‘cannot go out if [they] are not sick’, and go to extreme lengths to feign illness, leaving the tantō to deal with their mess.

Christopher recognizes the humanity of the tantō and feels concerned for their emotional well-being since they are forced to work under a harmful ‘negative thought form’. Inside the Detention Centre, he was able to maintain a broad view of the situation, taking into consideration not only detainees’ perspectives but also those of the staff employed there. Even after experiencing eight months of immigration detention, Christopher demonstrates a rare breadth of compassion by extending his sympathy towards the tantō who played a direct role in denying his freedom.

2.2. Other “Inmates”

“Let me call them inmates to be frank, because they are really inmates. They are prisoners.”

Christopher refers to the detainees at the Tokyo Regional Immigration Bureau as “inmates” as he sees their situation as being imprisonment. Nonetheless, he discusses his interactions with fellow detainees in a positive light, describing many scenarios involving cooperation between ‘inmates’. For instance, he recalls one of his roommates, a ‘professional gambler’ who would share his winnings upon returning to their room, much to the delight of the others.

“In my room was a professional gambler. So every day the man, he gambled and had two million yen from the detainees… And he had a rule of gambling…When you give you can receive

…After he gambles and wins a lot he comes to our room. We don’t gamble, we don’t do anything, but he will share [1,000 yen] with us …we don’t even tell the helpers that he is gambling.

So there is some help, some work with others. There are friends, we make friends inside too. You make friends, you live… you people are in a common situation.”

The cooperative nature of interactions between ‘inmates’ also reflects Christopher’s statement about the adaptability of human beings when placed in difficult circumstances. Regardless of their backgrounds, ‘inmates’ are united by their shared situation, that is indefinite detention in a foreign country. Christopher claims that this ‘common situation’ generates solidarity that transcends their different backgrounds, enabling ‘inmates’ to ‘make friends inside the Detention Centre’.

“I think every person has a heart. Even if you are in detention.”

2.3. Productive Activities

There were of course quarrels and moments of bitterness given the environment of constant confinement and anxiety within the Detention Centre. Nevertheless, Christopher managed to diffuse such situations as a natural leader, gaining the respect and confidence of other detainees. He would persuade those in fights to recognize their common situation, telling them that “two wrongs can never make a right.”

I was even trying, at my own level, to make it like a class…. we go through the we go through the lessons, and try to learn Japanese together.

In addition, Christopher did his best to utilize his time in detention for productive work, including studying the Japanese language. He argues that the most important asset in Japan—both within the detention center and outside—is the ability to communicate in Japanese. Being placed in detention with nothing else to do was, therefore, a valuable opportunity to acquire this skill. Moreover, Christopher expanded his approach to spending time productively by persuading others to join him. Drawing on his leadership skills as a former union leader, Christopher used printed materials published by the NHK to establish a learning environment “like a class” within the detention center. 


A Japanese textbook (NHK World)

3. Issues with the Detention System

I went inside. I saw that it was not looking very funny, so I wrote to the Immigration about what is going inside.

3.1. Detainment of Convicted Criminals

Upon being placed inside the Detention Centre, Christopher immediately recognized two major issues concerning the detainment of convicted criminals. The first was the potential for such detainees to corrupt naïve ‘youngsters’. 

“A young man who has not seen anything like crime, you bring him here, to be with this group of people, they should separate at least their cells. Let people who are still young and who are not criminals to be different [otherwise they] learn how to do odd things.” 

Christopher’s primary concern is for the moral integrity of young adults inside the Detention Centre. While he does not feel personally threatened by cohabitation with convicted criminals, he is apprehensive about their possible negative influence on ‘youngsters’. His line of argument, therefore, is to separate detainees according to their backgrounds, thereby preventing ‘youngsters’ from learning ‘odd things’ which could lead to incarceration later in their lives.   

3.2. Deportation Order and Intimidation

“You cannot entice me to do what I don’t want. And that is me. When the going gets tough I also get tougher.”

Christopher explains that emotional manipulation takes place under various circumstances within the Detention Centre. The most prevalent method of intimidation is to present incoming detainees with a Deportation Order. Refusal of this Deportation order is then ‘treated as a crime’. Detention Centre staff attempt to coerce detainees into signing their deportation documents by making it known that they have little chance of staying in Japan. Christopher says that he was brought forward for interviewing on two occasions during his eight months at Shinagawa. He says that he was able to remain unfazed by guards’ repeated attempts to make him agree to deportation because he knew his rights. 

Far from being intimidated, Christopher openly challenged the guards to ‘just serve [him] with the deportation order’ and ‘send [him] back’ if they could do so without his signature. Nonetheless, Christopher acknowledges that guards’ tactics to manipulate and intimidate detainees to sign their own deportation documents are often highly effective.

Furthermore, Christopher argues that ‘intimidation’ by the Immigration Services Agency continues even after being released. While outside the Detention Centre on provisional release, most people are not permitted to work. This is because they have already been ‘served a deportation order’ which remains active outside the Detention Centre and prohibits their employment. As such, those in circumstances like Christopher’s face many difficulties even when they are released from detention.

Those on the provisional release are unable to work, claim national health insurance or travel beyond their residing prefecture without permission from immigration authorities.

3.3. Detention of Asylum Seekers

When they control, they don’t go very deep to see who is a true refugee and who is not a true refugee.

In discussing why Japan detains those seeking asylum, Christopher speaks about a ‘concept of fear’. In his view, many Japanese people fear that incoming foreigners may include ‘criminals’. While he acknowledges that yes, some foreigners are criminals’ and that many come in search of greener pastures’, he also points out that Japan’s border control policy is not directed towards discerning such cases. Christopher feels that the emphasis is instead placed on reducing immigration and that there is little interest in detecting genuine asylum seekers. There are plenty of grounds for such concern since Japan has one of the lowest refugee recognition rates among developed countries.

At present, the government has no impetus to raise its refugee quota because immigration is already a politically fraught topic. The problem of Japan’s minuscule quota for refugees is exacerbated by the length of the application process, which often includes extended periods of immigration detention. In an official statement, the Tokyo Bar Association points out that ‘the detention periods are extremely prolonged’ and that ‘[an] immigration administration such as this should not be accepted’.


4. COVID-19 and Release

4.1. Fear and Panic

“All of us were afraid because we knew that if at all [COVID-19] entered the centre, all of us will die. We were really afraid.”

Christopher was released from the Detention Centre in Shinagawa following an increase in COVID-19 cases in Tokyo. When the novel coronavirus pandemic began to spread across Japan, the detainees watched the news on television with fear, knowing that a single infection within the detention center could rapidly spread throughout the entire facility. With no way of escaping, and with little provided in terms of personal safety such as face masks, Christopher says that all detainees were ‘really in panic’. 

You’d [rather] die outside than dying inside… Outside you have a chance, but inside, if it comes, every person will be infected.

Detainees’ fears of becoming infected inside the Detention Centre stem from both their physical proximity and their overall poor health. The “Three C’s” — environments with high transmission risk due to being closed, crowded, or involving close contact — describe the conditions inside the Detention Centre perfectly. Furthermore, many of those detained for prolonged periods at the Shinagawa Detention Centre suffer from poor health. The Japan Federation of Bar Associations points to these problems in their official statement regarding detainment during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Not an insignificant number of long-term detainees suffering from basic illnesses currently receive insufficient medical treatment. Under such conditions, it is concerning that once a detainee becomes infected, his/her condition could seriously deteriorate, even to the extent that it poses a risk to his/her life.

In addition to detainees’ personal health concerns and the Three C’s within the facility, the daily movement of staff produced an ongoing connection between the Detention Centre and Tokyo at large. Knowing they were not isolated from the outside, detainees at Shinagawa watched in fear as Tokyo’s ever-increasing COVID-19 rate was reported on television news.

” We were really disturbed because [the guards] were the ones going out. We are the ones staying inside. They could come with the COVID [and] spread it to us. That is what we feared.

After Japan’s first coronavirus state of emergency was announced on the 6th of April, 2020, visiting rights to the Detention Centre in Shinagawa were suspended. Nonetheless, a constant flow of people from outside including service people and even some new detainees were still trafficking in and out.’

4.2. Release

Faced with the prospect of COVID-19 infection inside the Detention Centre, some detainees attempted to leave by voluntarily submitting to deportation. 

Under ordinary circumstances, ‘illegal foreign residents’ who proactively seek to leave Japan are exempt from immigration detention under the Departure Order system.

In the cases of those who are expected with certainty to depart from Japan immediately, the authorities have been taking measures to allow them to depart from Japan without, in fact, detaining them… illegal foreign residents who satisfy certain requirements may depart from Japan without being detained in accordance with simple procedures.

However, the total cancelation of flights around the world meant that detainees submitting to deportation were unable to leave the country. Instead, the Shinagawa Detention Centre responded to the viral pandemic by releasing large numbers of detainees into the general population. 

On May 1, the Immigration Services Agency announced it would begin to allow “provisional release” …it appears that 50 were released from each Ibaraki and Shinagawa almost at once, with no warning and no support, and thus no way for the detainees to prepare at all.

The article by Slater and Barbaran quoted above also points out that ‘no detention center wants to be responsible for the death of detainees’ and, since detention facilities in other countries followed similar trends, ‘detention centers in Japan are not different from any others around the world. There is, in fact, no way to keep anyone in captivity — detention, imprisonment, or hospital — safe in the face of a viral outbreak’.

Christopher’s time in detention ended abruptly when he was released on the 1st of May, 2020, during the first wave of COVID-19 in Tokyo.

He was pleasantly surprised to be the first in his block to receive instructions to ‘gather your things’ and leave. Despite the continued risk of COVID-19 outside the Detention Centre, Christopher asserts that he would rather ‘die outside than dying inside’.

4.3. Impact of the Detention Centre

Reflecting on his time in the Detention Centre, Christopher provides a wide spiritual explanation of why he might have been detained. He suggests that his own intrapersonal changes brought about by this experience can be passed on to others to induce a larger positive change in Japan.

After being transferred to the Tokyo Regional Immigration Bureau on the 23rd of August, 2019, Christopher spent more than eight months in detention before finally being released on the 1st of May, 2020. During this time he discovered that he had ‘looked at Japan [in] a very wrong way’. He explains that he ‘really saw the true nature of Japan’, that is, ‘what people are suffering’ beneath the nation’s façade of equity and decency. He, therefore, hopes that those who come to know his story will ‘manifest some good tidings to this particular environment, Japan’.