
Features / Reportage
Behind the doors at an occupied council house
Old plastic milk bottles filled with water dangle from the corners of a sheet hung from the window of 44 Richmond Terrace, the site of a month-long stand-off between squatters and the council.
“Homes for all” the sheet says in reference to the fight to keep the former council house in public hands after it was technically sold at a controversial auction in April. It’s a fight which may well be over in a few days when the matter goes to court.
Amanda Patterson, the neighbourhood beat bobby for Avonmouth stands outside on her daily visit to check-up on what’s going on as a dog on a string tied to the doorway yaps at passers-by.
is needed now More than ever
Activist Steve Norman arrives in his car to join the protest, firing off a string of accusations about the council as he enters the living room. Among them is a claim of an internal power struggle at City Hall which saw police sent in with orders to evict before being pulled out again. Amanda offers no comment as she squats down to pat the dog, all smiles.
Rick Carey, of Bristol Housing Action Movement, gives a guided tour of the home sold at auction by the council:
Three people sit inside, holding out against the apparent threat of repossession or eviction which will be decided at Bristol Civil Court on Wednsday. It’s a threat that has been dangling over their heads in one way or another since the house was first thrust into the news to highlight the plight of one man and a city-wide housing crisis.
Anthony Palmer and his 18-month-old son, who no longer reside here, were the first to set up home. Fed up with allegedly shoddy temporary hostel accommodation offered by the council while Palmer sat on the waiting list for a home, he entered on the eve of a firesale of 15 council houses which sparked violent protests.
He has now left for another temporary room while he continues to wait. But the protest at this Avonmouth home continues beyond this one man’s story to get housed in a city with a homelessness crisis second only to London.
“The wider issue is there’s no need for any people like Anthony to be sent to a hostel when I can take you right now to see three empty council houses just in this small area,” Norman says as he sits on the sofa of the sparsely furnished but neat and tidy home.
Norman, like the other two occupiers and the dozens of volunteers supporting their cause (one of whom drops in to donate a broom on her way past which is used to sweep the sidewalk as we chat), sees the council’s practice of selling old homes in need of renovation as backwards thinking.
The practice is commonplace in councils across the country and is backed by housing associations who support reinvestment in new homes. In total 300 have been auctioned by Bristol City Council since 2005.
But Norman points out that hundreds of people are being housed in temporary hostels and B&Bs – including, he claims, Premier Inn and Butlins – by Bristol City Council, so acute is the shortage of council homes.
Figures released under the Freedom of Information Act show there are currently 9,238 people on the waiting list for a council home – and only 41 available.
Average waiting time for someone in Band One or Two is eight to 12 months, while Band Three is longer than a year. There are currently 300 families being housed by the council in temporary properties while waiting for a permanent move to a council home.
One of the sticking points of the Avonmouth protest is that Palmer and his son have been placed in Band Two and not Band One, where it is argued he should be as a an ex serviceman.
(The council argues, in an email seen by Bristol247, that because Palmer left the army eight years ago he is no longer eligible for their own policy of “reasonable preference” to be upgraded.)
Palmer declined the chance to speak about his claim after his case has already seen so much attention in the run-up to the election where the more cynical might say it was used by some for political gain.
But during the early days of the occupation he told Bristol24/7 he felt he was let down by the council at his previous council lodgings. He said he intended to stay there until the council has an adequate property to go to.
Since then details of his current temporary lodgings on North Street, Bedminster, have been revealed, with pictures sent to the council and local press of what is claimed to be a raw sewage leak in the basement of the building.
But although protesters at 44 Richmond Terrace say they will leave the day that Palmer is bumped up the list for rehousing, the occupation is about more than this one story.
Norman says the auction in April is an example of the council pushing through “backdoor” privatisation of housing stock – leaving those on the waiting lists housed in poorer quality temporary homes like the one Palmer is living in now.
Rick Carey, an occupier at the house who is also part of Bristol Housing Action Movement, says: “It’s greasing everyone’s palms in the same ways.
“It’s another advantage for rents to rise. The difference between social rent and private rent is investment. Bringing down prices through social stock. This is all departmental thinking, not oversight.”
Having said this, a new administration has just arrived with new mayor Marvin Rees who has barely had time to get his feet under the table.
He was a critic of the plans to auction the homes in April and has promised to build 2,000 homes – 800 affordable – a year until 2020.
There are also steps to set up a council-owned trust which could handle the new developments using money raised from George Ferguson’s sale of the port which looms just on the horizon of Richmond Terrace.
However, Norman is as skeptical as ever. “If the new administration seriously wanted to it would look at bringing this to a peaceful and sensible resolution. All they need to do is get on their horses or whatever and come down here, sit down with us, have a cup of coffee and talk resolutions.”
Bristol City Council declined to comment.
Read more: Port sale could fund affordable homes