Panic attacks, insomnia and anxiety — the price I’ve paid for prudence
PICTURE this. You are the victim of a crime. The perpetrator has been arrested, but when the case goes to court it is you, not them, who has to pay the fine and serve the sentence.
This is the situation happening right now to me and hundreds of thousands of people across the country. Our only mistake: to buy into the British dream of homeownership. Instead we have found ourselves caught up in a nationwide housing scandal in the wake of the Grenfell Tower tragedy, which has left an estimated 700,000 people living in potential fire traps and at risk of financial ruin.
There is, as we have discovered to our horror, nowhere to turn. The law cannot protect us; ministers seemingly won’t. And last month the bankruptcies we were promised would never happen have finally started.
The financial sums involved may be terrifying — estimated bills of £50,000 to remove cladding are not uncommon — but the human cost is just as sobering. Many leaseholders, already hit hard by Covid, complain of anxiety so extreme they are struggling to function.
A survey by the UK Cladding Action Group has found that 23 per cent have thought of suicide or self-harm, while 90 per cent have seen their mental health worsen. Alcohol, drugs and smoking have become coping strategies.
But I don’t need statistics to know how bad things are getting. At the beginning of this year I discovered that the materials covering my East London home, which is just four years old, were potentially combustible and had to be tested.
On October 23 they failed safety checks and two fire marshals now patrol my six- storey block, 24 hours a day. I’ve been warned the repair work could take years to carry out; until then I can’t sell or remortgage, so I’m trapped. Most worrying of all, although I’m a first-time buyer with a 40 per cent stake in my shared ownership flat, due to a quirk of my lease, I’m liable for the whole repair bill.
The effect on me has been devastating. I’ve had panic attacks and bouts of insomnia; for several months I took sleeping pills. I’ve been short-tempered and subject to mood swings. I did everything right — I saved for years and bought in good faith, with all the correct checks and balances in place. I trusted the professionals. Nonetheless here I stand, on the verge of losing everything if limited government funding to remove the cladding fails. I feel duped.
And it’s not just me. Since joining the End Our Cladding Scandal campaign, I’ve spoken to hundreds of leaseholders affected by this crisis. I’ve met pensioners unable to move to be near a loved one diagnosed with a serious illness. First-time buyers struggling to afford hiked service charges who have resorted to payday loans.
Women who have given up any ideas of having children because they are so afraid of what the future will bring. Professionals in law and finance having to face up to the loss of not only their homes but also their livelihoods if they get into certain types of debt.
ThE recent revelations at the Grenfell inquiry have only made matters worse. Phase Two has exposed a major corporate scandal — how some cladding and insulation manufacturers, desperate to take advantage of lucrative environmental initiatives, concealed that their products were a fire risk so they could be sold for use on high rises.
These materials, plus many other hidden fire safety defects now being discovered, can be found on tens of thousands of buildings across the country.
Yet the Government’s current plan is confused at best, cynical at worst: offer woeful levels of funding to fix parts of the issue, then make leaseholders take out huge loans to pay for the rest. Those who created this mess, it seems, have already been ruled out of any responsibility.
Cue more sleepless nights. Black despair. No sign of any real helping hand. The bills will soon hit; more bankruptcies are on the cards. This is the new year we face.