Did you know that mothers seeking asylum are not automatically granted the right to family reunion once they have legal status here?
I did not know that.
A mother who spoke out at the Mothers March event yesterday that she had to leave her three children behind when she fled from war in her country ten years ago. It took her eight years to be granted a legal status to remain here. After that she was told she had no automatic right to have her children join her here. She's fighting for that now but legal aid is being cut, cut for everyone so we have no recourse to anything anymore
Many many mothers are in her situation, wanting to be reunited with their children. There is a petition we signed but I didn't have time to pick up the leaflet to put the link on here.
This mother hasn't seen her children for 10 years. Ten years? Can you imagine? I can't imagine not being allowed to see my son for that long.
She, like others who spoke, experienced racism at her detention centre. It seems our asylum seekers are told by staff that they are only here for the benefits.
You've read right wing press, you've read that insinuation.
She said her country was at war. She said it was not easy to flee with her children so she left hoping for sanctuary somewhere safe. When she's told then, that she's only here for the benefits, she gets angry, because if our (by that I mean my) government didn't sell arms to her country's leaders which they then use to oppress people like her, then she might not be here at all, she might be home with her children.
Libya Libya Libya.... (No, she wasn't from there, there's war going on in many, many countries)
I hope she's joined by her children soon.
I'll be honest with you, I don't often pay attention to any news, good or bad, about asylum seekers or immigrants and thinking about it now, it's possibly because I am in competition with them, for housing.
They are entitled to housing, they are entitled to have their children with them.
They are entitled to have their children with them and live somewhere safe.
We need more housing and we need it urgently
We can't abolish legal aid
What a mess. What a flipping mess....
Showing posts with label Housing and political incorrectness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Housing and political incorrectness. Show all posts
Sunday, 13 March 2011
Wednesday, 21 April 2010
RRRARGH I get so ANGRY
Off the back of the libdem's help, I got an email from a man I've never known. CC'd were the two libdems responsible for council flat sell off's that one party, can't remember which, called "tweedledee and tweedledum" last night. Anyway, they all got this; I couldn't hold back my fury....
Dear Man I've Never Known,
I don't mean to sound ungrateful but temporary, temporary, temporary... move, move, move my son, keep me in the arms of the NHS for a lifetime.
I know there is an enormous problem down here but the policies around housing are flawed beyond belief. Back in September I went to view two properties that I wasn't shortlisted for. They wouldn't let me in but that didn't matter because they were in my block, where after four years, I've finally got a shed for my bicycle, which I still use to carry my son.
Ten of the 12 people viewing it were not British and had waited less time than me. Everyone refused the property, I wrote to the council. I can't tell you how many stories I have like this.
I had a Polish mother complaining to me that "Somalians" get housed before her who have only been in the country for two years. I understand of course but what upsets me is that she has more points than me when she has been waiting half the time.
A property I was 5th on the waiting list for was readvertised and my position dropped to 134th.
I play this brutal game by its rules but I cannot understand why the council keeps sliding me and my son down snakes instead of helping us up a ladder.
We are being evicted; we could be given extra points, we could be placed in a higher banding.
My son's life, as you have read, is as important to me as all your children's lives are important to you three gentlemen, if you have any.
There are properties despite the horrors happening in this borough for I bid on them all the time. I crave a positive outcome for my child and a fundamentally secure foundation in order to get on with our future.
I thank all of you for your help so far, do not think it does not go unnoticed.
Thank you Man I've Never Known for your email.
Kind regards
Dear Man I've Never Known,
I don't mean to sound ungrateful but temporary, temporary, temporary... move, move, move my son, keep me in the arms of the NHS for a lifetime.
I know there is an enormous problem down here but the policies around housing are flawed beyond belief. Back in September I went to view two properties that I wasn't shortlisted for. They wouldn't let me in but that didn't matter because they were in my block, where after four years, I've finally got a shed for my bicycle, which I still use to carry my son.
Ten of the 12 people viewing it were not British and had waited less time than me. Everyone refused the property, I wrote to the council. I can't tell you how many stories I have like this.
I had a Polish mother complaining to me that "Somalians" get housed before her who have only been in the country for two years. I understand of course but what upsets me is that she has more points than me when she has been waiting half the time.
A property I was 5th on the waiting list for was readvertised and my position dropped to 134th.
I play this brutal game by its rules but I cannot understand why the council keeps sliding me and my son down snakes instead of helping us up a ladder.
We are being evicted; we could be given extra points, we could be placed in a higher banding.
My son's life, as you have read, is as important to me as all your children's lives are important to you three gentlemen, if you have any.
There are properties despite the horrors happening in this borough for I bid on them all the time. I crave a positive outcome for my child and a fundamentally secure foundation in order to get on with our future.
I thank all of you for your help so far, do not think it does not go unnoticed.
Thank you Man I've Never Known for your email.
Kind regards
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
I'm not a Lady Mr N, I'm a Mother
Everyone’s Entitled To A Home
399 points to my 351
Her daughter has points
Three years in a hostel
“No way PRS”
Just like me
five years in my flat.
“A Somalian mother got a place
She’s only been here two years,”
she said.
“13 years I’ve lived here.”
I understood everything
but I felt myself getting angry.
Why my son has no points?
“13 years?” I said.
“I was born here.”
The title of this post refers to a comment by Mr N in the paper that carried my story. In it he says my son and I will not get a secure tenancy. The title of the poem (?) is the original one.
399 points to my 351
Her daughter has points
Three years in a hostel
“No way PRS”
Just like me
five years in my flat.
“A Somalian mother got a place
She’s only been here two years,”
she said.
“13 years I’ve lived here.”
I understood everything
but I felt myself getting angry.
Why my son has no points?
“13 years?” I said.
“I was born here.”
The title of this post refers to a comment by Mr N in the paper that carried my story. In it he says my son and I will not get a secure tenancy. The title of the poem (?) is the original one.
Saturday, 19 September 2009
"Oh good, she's White"
After I posted my letter to Brown I went outside my door to see if the shortlisted had arrived. They had, there were a number of women with buggies outside. As I went to go downstairs I run into the Good Caretaker. "Are they doing both flats today? I'm going to go and accept them, fuck it, I don't care."
Down I go and see a man and woman, who I learn are the Ward Manager and the Estate Manager. "You can't smoke on the balcony," says the Ward Manager. I stare at her, two more tokes to finish it and put the butt in my pocket. "Have you come to see the flat? What's your name?" she asks, the Estate Manager takes out his list of people. "Are you on our shortlist?"
"Yes," I reply, "Sue de Nim, but I'm not shortlisted. I've come to accept it anyway."
"I'm afraid if you haven't been shortlisted you can't come in."
"I don't care. I don't need to. My son's friends live here."
I tell her my story, I tell her what I've been going through. I tell her it's about time I was shortlisted. She tells me the system allocates those with the "greatest need" and suggests that if I think I've got a case, to take it to a lawyer. I tell her I've done that, and the council knows I've done that and failed because lawyers wrote to them and they never bothered replying. I go back to the "greatest need" thing. In this time, three muslim families have arrived and one of these mothers waits outside with one of the buggies.
I ask her how the system decides who's in greatest need. She sidetracks this and says: "There are one or two people it doesn't benefit."
"What?" I say calmly from my lack of sleep. "Am I one of these one or two people who don't benefit from this system?" and she just looks at me. She's not going to talk to me anymore.
I turn to the Muslim mother. "Have you been waiting long?" I repeat it as she didn't expect me to start talking to her. "Three years," she replies with an exhausted tone in her voice, not dissimilar to mine.
"Where do you live?" I ask.
"In bedsit. My two childen, my husban," and shakes her head.
"Haven't you been offered the Private Rental Scheme?"
She shakes her head again. "Yes, but two childen, my husban and me I don wan everytime the landlor make me move."
I understand this, oh yes I do, so later in my email to the council I say "Why are they being shortlisted to view a flat and I'm being bullied into the prs, going into a hostel if I refuse?"
There's a British girl there, mixed race, with a toddler and I make an assumption that she's a lone parent like me and feel my anger abate a little. The others all had their husbands with them. Immigrant families, their spoken English to the Ward Manager was poor and I couldn't understand what they were saying to one another regarding the flat.
Suddenly everyone's gone and I ask the Ward Manager (who for the sake of this post was Black British)"Did anyone accept it?"
"No," she says, quite surprised. "None of them."
She tells the Estate Manager that they should go upstairs so I think righty oh, I'll go accept that one too. Once up there the kitchen fitter that I saw the other day comes out of the flat.
"Why are you power dressed?" he says.
"Power dressed? In a denim mini? I had a little breakdown last night and just wanted to get out of my jeans. Pick myself up, pretend in the school playground that everything's ok in my world."
Immigrant families are coming up to see this one aswell and then a British girl turns up with her partner and baby.
"Oh good, she's White," I say to Kitchen Fitter, thinking out loud. "Makes me feel better." He looks at me quite surprised. "Well..." I tail off for even I am quite surprised.
"There was a British girl downstairs, I think she's a lone parent like me. The only lone parent amongst these families."
"Well it doesn't make any difference does it?"
"It should," I say. "Imagine, you and me are married and I'm working, we'd just have to pay £50 a week each for that. £50 each!"
He looks at the flat and his eyes light up with only what I can call desire. I continue: "I might be able to pay the rent on that flat on my own. I can't pay the £250 for that box upstairs."
"I get your point," he says.
"Nah," I hear the White girl say to her partner. "I'm scared of heights, I can't take that, it's too high." The other families come out, speaking their native dialects.
"They're leaving," says Kitchen Fitter.
"The door's still open," I say.
"Yeah, I'm going back in there, finish the job."
"Oh right, oh ok, nice talking to you, bye!" and I walk down the balcony and barely shout over to the Ward Manager "Did anyone take it?!" I repeat it. I repeat it again.
"She won't stop following me!" I hear her say to Estate Manager. Following her? FOLLOWING HER?? I ask the Estate Manager as he's walking down the stairs. "Did anyone?" He shakes his head no.
No! None!! I race to my flat and straight away email 'allocations' and 'needs and access' to tell them to give it to me! I didn't mention 'immigrants' once. You can't with these council people, political correctness and all, equality and all. I'll spare you the letter, it was a garbled mess. For example I write: "Once again I want to clarify I was not a problem up there. When Ward Manager told me I could not smoke on the balcony (so where, in my flat it's a bad polluting habit that I already fail to hide from my side.." My side? My side? I meant my son. Punctuation was all out of the window as well.
I go and meet my MP, I go and pick up my son and I talk about the days events to a British mother. She listens without judgement (oh I could kiss you I could kiss you). "I'm not proud," she says. "But I used the race card." She tells me her story. "I said "you're being racist and three days later my daughter and granddaughter have a flat. Coincidence."
"I feel I'm being discriminated against," I say. "For being "white", being "intelligent," for "having resources" but I can't play any race card." I was relieved to see the White girl, because it signified to me, that neither could she. I do wish I knew how she got there though....
I am an immigrant myself in Camden. I wasn't born in the borough. But three notices in 6 years is beyond a joke now.
Five years ago Dobbie, my MP at the time, wrote to me saying "To be honest, I am at a loss to know how to advise you further..... but the process for all who find themselves in such a situation is that temporary accommodation is offered until such time as permanent housing becomes available. Camden Council would therefore be in great difficulty in offering you permanent housing at this point, going as you would before the hundreds of families before you who are in temporary accommodation waiting a permanent housing offer."
2004 he wrote me that. We are 2009. Those hundreds of families have been housed. Our turn now, surely?
Down I go and see a man and woman, who I learn are the Ward Manager and the Estate Manager. "You can't smoke on the balcony," says the Ward Manager. I stare at her, two more tokes to finish it and put the butt in my pocket. "Have you come to see the flat? What's your name?" she asks, the Estate Manager takes out his list of people. "Are you on our shortlist?"
"Yes," I reply, "Sue de Nim, but I'm not shortlisted. I've come to accept it anyway."
"I'm afraid if you haven't been shortlisted you can't come in."
"I don't care. I don't need to. My son's friends live here."
I tell her my story, I tell her what I've been going through. I tell her it's about time I was shortlisted. She tells me the system allocates those with the "greatest need" and suggests that if I think I've got a case, to take it to a lawyer. I tell her I've done that, and the council knows I've done that and failed because lawyers wrote to them and they never bothered replying. I go back to the "greatest need" thing. In this time, three muslim families have arrived and one of these mothers waits outside with one of the buggies.
I ask her how the system decides who's in greatest need. She sidetracks this and says: "There are one or two people it doesn't benefit."
"What?" I say calmly from my lack of sleep. "Am I one of these one or two people who don't benefit from this system?" and she just looks at me. She's not going to talk to me anymore.
I turn to the Muslim mother. "Have you been waiting long?" I repeat it as she didn't expect me to start talking to her. "Three years," she replies with an exhausted tone in her voice, not dissimilar to mine.
"Where do you live?" I ask.
"In bedsit. My two childen, my husban," and shakes her head.
"Haven't you been offered the Private Rental Scheme?"
She shakes her head again. "Yes, but two childen, my husban and me I don wan everytime the landlor make me move."
I understand this, oh yes I do, so later in my email to the council I say "Why are they being shortlisted to view a flat and I'm being bullied into the prs, going into a hostel if I refuse?"
There's a British girl there, mixed race, with a toddler and I make an assumption that she's a lone parent like me and feel my anger abate a little. The others all had their husbands with them. Immigrant families, their spoken English to the Ward Manager was poor and I couldn't understand what they were saying to one another regarding the flat.
Suddenly everyone's gone and I ask the Ward Manager (who for the sake of this post was Black British)"Did anyone accept it?"
"No," she says, quite surprised. "None of them."
She tells the Estate Manager that they should go upstairs so I think righty oh, I'll go accept that one too. Once up there the kitchen fitter that I saw the other day comes out of the flat.
"Why are you power dressed?" he says.
"Power dressed? In a denim mini? I had a little breakdown last night and just wanted to get out of my jeans. Pick myself up, pretend in the school playground that everything's ok in my world."
Immigrant families are coming up to see this one aswell and then a British girl turns up with her partner and baby.
"Oh good, she's White," I say to Kitchen Fitter, thinking out loud. "Makes me feel better." He looks at me quite surprised. "Well..." I tail off for even I am quite surprised.
"There was a British girl downstairs, I think she's a lone parent like me. The only lone parent amongst these families."
"Well it doesn't make any difference does it?"
"It should," I say. "Imagine, you and me are married and I'm working, we'd just have to pay £50 a week each for that. £50 each!"
He looks at the flat and his eyes light up with only what I can call desire. I continue: "I might be able to pay the rent on that flat on my own. I can't pay the £250 for that box upstairs."
"I get your point," he says.
"Nah," I hear the White girl say to her partner. "I'm scared of heights, I can't take that, it's too high." The other families come out, speaking their native dialects.
"They're leaving," says Kitchen Fitter.
"The door's still open," I say.
"Yeah, I'm going back in there, finish the job."
"Oh right, oh ok, nice talking to you, bye!" and I walk down the balcony and barely shout over to the Ward Manager "Did anyone take it?!" I repeat it. I repeat it again.
"She won't stop following me!" I hear her say to Estate Manager. Following her? FOLLOWING HER?? I ask the Estate Manager as he's walking down the stairs. "Did anyone?" He shakes his head no.
No! None!! I race to my flat and straight away email 'allocations' and 'needs and access' to tell them to give it to me! I didn't mention 'immigrants' once. You can't with these council people, political correctness and all, equality and all. I'll spare you the letter, it was a garbled mess. For example I write: "Once again I want to clarify I was not a problem up there. When Ward Manager told me I could not smoke on the balcony (so where, in my flat it's a bad polluting habit that I already fail to hide from my side.." My side? My side? I meant my son. Punctuation was all out of the window as well.
I go and meet my MP, I go and pick up my son and I talk about the days events to a British mother. She listens without judgement (oh I could kiss you I could kiss you). "I'm not proud," she says. "But I used the race card." She tells me her story. "I said "you're being racist and three days later my daughter and granddaughter have a flat. Coincidence."
"I feel I'm being discriminated against," I say. "For being "white", being "intelligent," for "having resources" but I can't play any race card." I was relieved to see the White girl, because it signified to me, that neither could she. I do wish I knew how she got there though....
I am an immigrant myself in Camden. I wasn't born in the borough. But three notices in 6 years is beyond a joke now.
Five years ago Dobbie, my MP at the time, wrote to me saying "To be honest, I am at a loss to know how to advise you further..... but the process for all who find themselves in such a situation is that temporary accommodation is offered until such time as permanent housing becomes available. Camden Council would therefore be in great difficulty in offering you permanent housing at this point, going as you would before the hundreds of families before you who are in temporary accommodation waiting a permanent housing offer."
2004 he wrote me that. We are 2009. Those hundreds of families have been housed. Our turn now, surely?
Monday, 16 March 2009
Voices of others
Molly, in hostel accommodation for six years, two children:
If you come from abroad you get the privileges, the people that are born here, that's as far as the privilege goes. Immigrants are on the same level. White middle class people think they should be prioritised and that creates anger. I'm like "Why has she got more points than me?" It's wrong but it's how the situation makes you feel.
Matt, in hostel accommodation for one year, pregnant girlfriend and one daughter:
Because we're normal, can go to the shops, can maintain our house yeah, we're left on the side because we can manage. So the government prioritise crack heads, mental people, people with issues, someone who harms themselves quicker than I would yeah. Why would someone who harms themselves need a flat? They do even worse; they've got their place, there's no rules, no supervision. The justice system's upside down.
Mohammed, in hostel accommodation two years, then temporary flat for one year, then hostel another two with wife and two children
A few weeks ago someone got a flat with 365 points, less than me, and I wasn't called to view. I ask downstairs "What is this?" and they say "people need it more than you do"... Probably those people in temporary flat. I should get priority.
They are not alone in thinking what they think. It's noisy down here
If you come from abroad you get the privileges, the people that are born here, that's as far as the privilege goes. Immigrants are on the same level. White middle class people think they should be prioritised and that creates anger. I'm like "Why has she got more points than me?" It's wrong but it's how the situation makes you feel.
Matt, in hostel accommodation for one year, pregnant girlfriend and one daughter:
Because we're normal, can go to the shops, can maintain our house yeah, we're left on the side because we can manage. So the government prioritise crack heads, mental people, people with issues, someone who harms themselves quicker than I would yeah. Why would someone who harms themselves need a flat? They do even worse; they've got their place, there's no rules, no supervision. The justice system's upside down.
Mohammed, in hostel accommodation two years, then temporary flat for one year, then hostel another two with wife and two children
A few weeks ago someone got a flat with 365 points, less than me, and I wasn't called to view. I ask downstairs "What is this?" and they say "people need it more than you do"... Probably those people in temporary flat. I should get priority.
They are not alone in thinking what they think. It's noisy down here
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