We know everyone in this city, this city is ours
In the quiet retail strips of Leicestershire, a BBC investigation has surfaced a figure whose presence asks hard questions about the integrity of systems meant to protect borders and communities alike. Twana Jamal, once prosecuted in France as a kingpin of Channel crossings and sentenced to five years for people smuggling, was found running two small shops while awaiting an asylum decision in the UK — a country whose post-Brexit information-sharing arrangements left his foreign conviction effectively invisible to those processing his claim. His case is not singular: investigators found more than twenty others with overseas smuggling convictions living in Britain, suggesting that the gap between what border security promises and what it delivers is wider than officials have acknowledged.
- A man once described by French authorities as the 'godfather' of migrant camps — convicted, imprisoned, and deported — quietly resurfaced in England running sweet shops while his asylum claim moved through a government queue.
- Local councillors had raised alarms about the shops multiple times through official channels, filing reports on illegal vapes and suspicious activity, yet nothing moved until a national broadcaster arrived with cameras.
- The BBC's investigation did not stop at one case: it identified more than twenty people smugglers with foreign convictions living in the UK, with European law enforcement confirming at least fifteen — a pattern, not an exception.
- Post-Brexit, the rapid cross-border criminal record sharing that once allowed EU member states to flag dangerous individuals has become slower and patchier, leaving UK asylum vetting reliant on databases that do not automatically absorb foreign court convictions.
- The Home Office points to record enforcement activity and existing bilateral agreements, but the arithmetic of a five-year French conviction going undetected through an asylum process strains the credibility of those assurances.
- Both local government and Parliament are now pressing for answers, with the shops shuttered and an MP escalating the matter to the Home Office — the question being whether this exposure produces reform or simply closes one chapter while the system remains unchanged.
In the outskirts of Leicester, two shops called Candy Corner sold vapes and sweets without drawing much attention. What they concealed was more striking: the man running them, Twana Jamal, had been sentenced by a French court in 2016 to five years in prison for people smuggling — a conviction that came with a deportation order back to Iraqi Kurdistan. At the height of his operation, he had earned up to £100,000 a week moving people across the Channel, making him one of the most significant smugglers French authorities had ever prosecuted. Yet years later, a BBC investigation found him in Blaby, working illegally, driving without a licence, and apparently using a false identity while his asylum application sat in a government queue.
In recordings obtained by the BBC, Jamal spoke with casual confidence about his position. 'We know everyone in this city, this city is ours,' he told a contact, and described making good money moving cigarettes at £300 a job, claiming even police would not interfere. When reporters confronted him at one of the shops, local government finally acted: Blaby District Council shut both Candy Corner locations under anti-social behaviour laws and moved toward a three-month closure order. The intervention came only after the investigation was published — a detail that stung local Liberal Democrat councillors who said they had filed multiple reports about the shops for selling illegal vapes, with no response from county authorities.
Jamal's case, however, is not an isolated failure. The BBC's investigation identified more than twenty other people smugglers living in the UK with convictions from courts in France, Germany, and Belgium — at least fifteen confirmed by European law enforcement. The common thread is structural: since leaving the European Union, the UK's ability to rapidly check foreign criminal records has diminished. Asylum seekers are fingerprinted and checked against UK police databases, but those databases do not automatically carry convictions handed down abroad, and the agreements that once enabled swift cross-border sharing have grown more cumbersome.
The Home Office acknowledged the difficulty, citing mandatory security checks and existing bilateral agreements, and pointed to an 83 percent rise in arrests for illegal working as evidence of enforcement effort. But the presence of a man with an industrial-scale smuggling conviction operating retail businesses while awaiting an asylum decision suggests the gaps in those safeguards are real and consequential. The Conservative MP for South Leicestershire, whose constituency office sat next door to one of the shuttered shops, called Jamal's presence 'utterly unacceptable' and said he would raise the matter with the Home Office. Whether that pressure produces meaningful reform — or whether more cases like this one remain quietly embedded in the same broken system — is the question the investigation leaves open.
In the outskirts of Leicester, two small shops selling vapes and sweets operated under an unremarkable name: Candy Corner. What made them remarkable was who was running them. Twana Jamal, once described by French authorities as the "godfather" of migrant camps in northern France, had set up business in Blaby while his asylum application sat in a government queue. A BBC investigation found him there, working illegally, making deliveries, driving without a licence, and apparently using a false identity.
Jamal's history should have disqualified him from ever being in the country. In 2016, a French court sentenced him to five years in prison for people smuggling—a conviction that came with a deportation order back to Iraqi Kurdistan. During his operation, he had earned up to £100,000 a week moving illegal immigrants across the Channel, making him one of the most successful smugglers French authorities had ever prosecuted. Yet here he was, years later, operating retail shops in the East Midlands and boasting about his reach. "We know everyone in this city, this city is ours," he told a contact in a recording obtained by the BBC. He spoke casually of making "good money" moving cigarettes from a warehouse at £300 per job, and claimed that even police would not interfere.
When BBC reporters confronted him at one of the shops, the machinery of local government finally moved. Blaby District Council shut both Candy Corner locations for 72 hours under anti-social behaviour laws, with plans to seek a three-month closure order at Leicester Magistrates Court. The closure came only after the investigation was published—a fact that stung local councillors. Two Liberal Democrat representatives said they had previously reported the shops for selling illegal vapes, one making five separate reports to the county council and another alerting Trading Standards three times, yet nothing had happened. The Conservative MP for South Leicestershire, Alberto Costa, whose constituency office sat next door to one of the shuttered shops, called Jamal's presence "utterly unacceptable" and said he would escalate the matter to the Home Office.
But Jamal's case is not an anomaly. The BBC's broader investigation uncovered more than 20 other people smugglers living in the UK, with law enforcement officers in Europe confirming at least 15 of those cases—individuals with convictions from courts in France, Germany, and Belgium. The pattern points to a systemic vulnerability in how the UK vets asylum seekers since leaving the European Union. Immigration officers told the BBC that post-Brexit, checking criminal records from other countries has become significantly harder. Asylum seekers are fingerprinted and checked against UK police databases, but those databases do not automatically contain convictions from foreign courts. The agreements that once allowed rapid cross-border information sharing have become more cumbersome.
The Home Office acknowledged the challenge in a statement, noting that it conducts mandatory security checks on all asylum claimants and maintains "a number of agreements" for sharing criminal records with other countries. It also pointed to record enforcement activity, with arrests for illegal working up 83 percent. Yet the fact that a man with a five-year French conviction for industrial-scale people smuggling could operate two shops in England while his asylum claim was being processed suggests those safeguards have significant gaps. The question now is whether the government will tighten its vetting procedures or whether more cases like Jamal's will emerge from the same broken system.
Citas Notables
We know everyone in this city, this city is ours. No-one touches us here. Even the police won't stop you.— Twana Jamal, in a recording shared with the BBC
Let's be clear this man should not be in Blaby, should not be in this country.— Alberto Costa, Conservative MP for South Leicestershire
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
How did a convicted people smuggler end up running shops in England in the first place?
He applied for asylum after his release from a French prison. The system fingerprinted him and checked UK records, but those records don't automatically include foreign convictions. Post-Brexit, checking French criminal databases became harder. He slipped through.
And no one caught him until the BBC showed up?
Local councillors had reported the shops for selling illegal vapes multiple times. Trading Standards was alerted. Nothing happened. It took a BBC investigation and publication to trigger the council to act.
What was he actually doing in those shops?
Working illegally—making deliveries, driving without a licence, using a false name. But he was also bragging about moving cigarettes from a warehouse and claiming the police wouldn't touch him. He was running the shops as cover.
Is he the only one?
No. The investigation found over 20 other people smugglers in the UK. At least 15 have confirmed convictions from France, Germany, and Belgium. It's not a single failure—it's a pattern.
What does the Home Office say about this?
They say all asylum claimants get security checks and that they have agreements with other countries to share criminal records. But clearly those agreements aren't working fast enough or thoroughly enough. They also point to record enforcement activity, but that doesn't address the vetting gap.
What happens to Jamal now?
The shops are closed. There's a court hearing scheduled. But the bigger question is whether the government will actually fix the system that let him in.