I spent all of this morning standing outside Dallas Court, a reporting centre for asylum seekers, with supporters of a Cameroonian teacher and activist named Lydia Besong, who had been detained by immigration officers inside.

It wasn’t meant to be like this. A week ago I went to watch the debut performance of a very moving play written by Lydia, called How I Became an Asylum Seeker. Sofia, another asylum seeker who has generously let me into her life, [Sofia is in the blue dress, above] was playing a leading role and I went to support her.

Anyway, that evening when I heard Lydia get up and speak about her personal situation I knew she would be ideal as a second subject in my asylum series, if she and her husband Bernard were willing to help. The couple have been extremely active within their community since arriving in the UK three years ago, but at the end of October they learned their cases had been rejected and that they could be detained at any point.

I was told they had ok-ed the idea and so off went to Dallas Court early this morning, hoping to explain myself properly, get their consent and get to work as soon as possible, since time was of the essence.

I got there just 15 minutes after people started reporting, but Lydia must have already been in and got immediately arrested. The couple sign separately in case of this happening, and he’s now refusing to attend.

(Lydia in the play)

While Lydia’s supporters, MP and lawyer work to get her released and secure a judicial review or lodge a fresh asylum claim, her deportation to Cameroon has been scheduled for 21 December.

For me, this has presented some conflicting emotions. For one it reinforces the reality of this whole situation and helps me understand the terror felt by many people within the asylum system. Their fate – will they be detained this week, next or the following week – is entirely out of their control, which must be horrible.

Today also brought into sharp focus some of the conflicts I feel – and to some extent have always felt – as a journalist. My professional instincts told me to turn the situation today into something – that I could perhaps try to record a audio and/or photographic account of their now quite dramatic battle to stay in the country, then turning it into a different kind of piece to my previous one.

I didn’t though. With no outlet I can think of that would take such a piece, it felt somehow gratuitous to encroach upon a busy campaign, and on Lydia’s husband, at such a difficult time.

I’m kind of cross with myself about that but this to me is one of the endless frustrations about my job. The stories I want to cover are not what people want to publish or what people want to read, and that pisses me off a lot at times.

Equally though, most potential interviewees or subjects – for all they may moan about the mainstream media and may be computer/internet savvy – simply don’t see the value of self-published work.

In some ways I agree but it’s something I feel quite confused about at the moment. I feel I may have missed an opportunity to tell a story here but I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed by both the mess in my industry and the fact that my news values seem so at odds with everyone else’s.

(To support Lydia’s campaign, please contact the Home Office urging for her immediate release and Quoting HO Ref: B1236372. You should fax the Home Office on 0208-760-3132 or email CITTO@homeoffice.gsi.gov.uk, UKBApublicenquiries@UKBA.gsi.gov.uk, external@homeoffice.gsi.gov.uk and cc admin@rapar.org.uk )