IN a recent survey commissioned by the British Red Cross, 18 per cent of those interviewed believed the UK was home to more than half of the world's asylum seekers. The actual figure, according to the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) is less than three per cent.

This is one indication of the problems asylum seekers and refugees face as they try to adjust to life in a new country. Perception, though, is just one of the barriers preventing refugees from getting jobs here.

According to the Refugee Education and Training Advisory Service (Retas) about 61 per cent of refugees in the UK are unemployed, with 85 per cent claiming they want to work as soon as possible.

Duncan Wells, director of Retas in Leeds, says language can be a barrier, and points out that refugees don't always know where to look for jobs, while employers often aren't aware that they have the same employment rights as UK citizens.

"Many refugees work really hard to improve their English but they struggle to get a job because employers often aren't aware of refugees rights to work. This creates a lot of confusion."

It means that many refugees struggle to get work and those that do often end up in menial, poorly paid work that doesn't match their abilities. "Many refugees are highly skilled and when employers are looking to recruit new staff refugees should be high up their list, because they are a highly motivated group," says Mr Wells.

"There are a lot of misconceptions that refugees are the same as illegal immigrants, and come from poor backgrounds, without any qualifications or skills." In most cases, he claims, the opposite is the case.

Retas is helping more than 300 refugees look for work, including doctors, teachers, accountants and engineers. "They come from all kinds of skilled professions. We even had a Russian rocket scientist a couple of years ago. Our job is to try and help them get work in their chosen field, rather than just being shoved into a warehouse job."

Nobody should expect that qualifications gained abroad will automatically guarantee them work in the UK, where levels of training are often far more demanding. But what refugee organisations argue is that there's a big pool of refugees who are willing and able to work that aren't being given a chance.

"There's a lot of highly skilled people working in factory jobs, which is a bit of a waste of resources," says Mr Wells. "We had a highly qualified welder who's just got a job but was working in a pizza shop. He was travelling to Grimsby from Leeds to get paid a couple of quid an hour."

Even when a job opportunity does present itself, refugee candidates can find their experience counts against them. "We have a highly qualified pharmacist who applied for a basic pharmacy job and was told he was over-qualified. So many refugees feel they can't win either way."

The number of people applying for asylum in this country is down from 87,000, at its peak in 2002, to about 23,000 last year. Despite this drop, Mr Wells believes the image of refugees remains largely negative. "The public perception of immigrants from Poland is they are hard working but it's not the same with refugees, even though in reality they slog their guts out just as much," he says.

"In many Middle Eastern and African countries, accepting benefits is seen as shameful, particularly for males. If you're a doctor or a journalist back in your own country, you are highly skilled and well respected, so to leave that behind as well as your family and friends is a huge thing. People aren't fleeing halfway around the world for a free terraced house in Leeds."

In an effort to change attitudes, Retas is working closely with the business community to encourage companies to offer job placements and interview training so refugees have a better idea of what potential employers want. Accountancy firm KPMG, for instance, helps mentor refugee accountants while Education Leeds has set up a support group for teachers.

For many refugees, however, finding a decent job remains a daunting prospect. Zewudu Mengiste fled here from Ethiopia in October 2006, and was granted refugee status a couple of months later. In his homeland he enjoyed a varied career working first as a nurse, then becoming a lawyer before re-training as a journalist.

It was while working as a freelance investigative reporter exposing alleged corruption that he was arrested by the authorities, spending six
months in jail. After being released, his family told him it wasn't safe for him to remain, and helped raise the £10,000 needed to pay for him to be smuggled to the UK.

But, rather than bringing an end to his problems, his arrival here created new ones. Since becoming a refugee he has applied for more than 25 jobs and had more than a dozen interviews, but he's still unemployed and claiming benefits.

"I can't get a job. I worked for 20 years in Ethiopia as a nurse, a manager, a lawyer and a journalist, but all the experience I have has no value here," he says.

Zewudu, 40, admits he feels ashamed to claim benefits. "I don't want to take them," he says, clutching his journalism certificate in his hand.

"I would take a clerical job if I had the chance, but I am told I must have experience. You
can't get that unless somebody gives you an opportunity. A friend of mine who is also a refugee has two masters
degrees from universities in the UK but he still can't get a job because he doesn't have the experience."

Rather than doing nothing, Zewudu spends his time on volunteer work for charities like Oxfam and Scope, and has set up the Leeds Ethiopian Community group. But, with his wife and two children now living with him, he is desperate for work. "I know that my qualifications and jobs from Ethiopia are difficult for an employer to interpret, but I just need someone to see my potential. Leeds is my new home and I really want to work and contribute to the economy and society."

Oxana Ivanova is another refugee struggling to find a job. She was a teacher in the Caucasus region of Russia when she was sacked for refusing to testify against Chechnyan children, whom she says the local authorities were trying to banish.

The 31-year-old says she was labelled a terrorist sympathiser, and claims she was blacklisted by the intelligence services, meaning she couldn't get another job.

Oxana arrived in the UK with her husband and young son more than three years ago, but has only recently been granted refugee status. During this time she has completed an English language course and has become a volunteer advisor for the Citizens Advice Bureau. She says her chances of getting a teaching job are slim.

"Places on the PGCE (postgraduate teacher training) course are competitive, and although I have a degree and lots of teaching experience from Russia, this is often overlooked.

"I have applied for countless jobs, but employers don't understand my qualifications. Also I am a refugee and I think people don't understand that I can work," she says. "But I hope to get a job, because my life is here now."