About me…

My name is Tarik Lanbari — a veteran, law student, elite personal trainer, self-defence instructor, ADHD and professional coach, and survivor of both domestic and financial abuse. My life’s journey has been shaped by adversity, resilience, and an unwavering belief that even in the darkest moments, we can rise again.

A Journey Through Struggle and Injustice

For years, I was the primary caregiver of my daughter, raising her through her first seven years of life. Yet despite my devotion, I lost her through a system that failed to see the truth. False allegations, fuelled by money and influence, were used to construct a narrative against me. In the family courts — where cases are too often decided on the balance of probabilities rather than evidence — I was stripped of my role as a father.

On 6th June 2021, I was placed under duress and subjected to the ultimate coercion: either sign a mortgage agreement or lose my immigration status — and with it, my daughter. This scenario stands in direct contradiction to the basis of contract law, which requires that agreements be formed through free consent. Under English law, consent obtained through duress — defined as illegitimate pressure that leaves no practical alternative — renders a contract voidable (Barton v Armstrong [1976] AC 104). The principle is clear: if a party is compelled to sign not out of genuine agreement but to avoid severe consequences, there is no true consent.

This was not just a legal imbalance — it was a form of coercive and controlling behaviour, recognised under the Serious Crime Act 2015, Section 76, which criminalises patterns of behaviour that strip a person of autonomy and trap them in fear. Forcing a parent to choose between their basic rights, their immigration status, and their child is a textbook example of coercive control, as it uses threats and manipulation to dictate actions.

It also meets the definition of financial abuse, a subset of domestic abuse formally recognised under the Domestic Abuse Act 2021. Financial abuse includes controlling a person’s access to money, resources, or economic independence, often to maintain power over them. Research by Women’s Aid and the Co-operative Bank (2015, Money Matters report) demonstrates how financial abuse is used to entrap victims, leaving them economically dependent and unable to exercise true freedom of choice. By tying my immigration status — and my relationship with my daughter — to signing a mortgage under pressure, the system facilitated exactly this form of abuse.

Beyond contract and domestic abuse law, this coercion also breached my human rights under the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR), which the UK is bound to through the Human Rights Act 1998.

• Article 8 ECHR guarantees the right to respect for family and private life, which includes the right to maintain a relationship with one’s child. Coercing me into a financial transaction under threat of losing my daughter amounted to an unlawful interference with that right.

• Article 14 ECHR prohibits discrimination in the enjoyment of rights, including discrimination on the grounds of origin or immigration status. Linking my right to family life with my immigration status — and weaponising it against me — was a breach of this protection.

Taken together, this moment revealed how laws and institutions can be manipulated against the vulnerable, leaving fathers like me caught in situations that violate the principles of contract law, criminal law, domestic abuse law, and fundamental human rights.

The pain deepened when a judge told me openly in court that I could not travel with my daughter to allow her to connect with her heritage — because I had foreign origins. To be silenced in that way, and to watch a court order handed entirely in favour of my perpetrator, was not only devastating as a father, but also revealed the systemic bias and prejudice embedded in the institutions meant to deliver justice.

On top of this, I faced redundancy just couple of weeks before my qualifying period , in circumstances where personal betrayal played a role — my ex being a close friend of that employer. These blows, compounded with the scars of abuse, could have destroyed me. Instead, they became the foundation of my purpose.