Later, I ask 12-year-old Shayan how she feels about the protests.
She says she wants to engage with the protesters and is frustrated the hotel staff won’t allow her: “Me and my friends have always wanted to go up to them and speak to them face-to-face. What is their problem with the kids as well?”
Shayan and her brother say they are often reluctant to take the school bus that comes to collect them each weekday. “You never know what [the protesters] will do to the bus,” she says, adding that she is afraid one of them might try to board it.
She wants to stay in the UK, she says, but her life so far has been spent in uncertain circumstances: “Once we get settled in a place, then they move us, and then we’ve got to learn where we come from, like, learn that area, go to a new school, make new friends, and then once we’ve done that, they move us again.”
Since talking to me at the asylum hotel, Kadir and his family have been told they are to be moved on once more – to two hotels in different cities. Kadir and his baby daughter have been offered accommodation in one hotel, and Mira, Shayan and Roman in another, nearly 200 miles away.
But they are refusing to go. Kadir has already been told he has lost his weekly benefit and there is a chance the family will be deemed to have made themselves intentionally homeless.
The future for the family – like many other asylum seekers – remains anything but certain.