I attended a meeting the other day
where a bunch of people gathered in a community centre to discuss the
impact of the Welfare Reforms. I was pleasantly surprised to find
that for once the audience wasn't made up of the usual suspects.
Instead of Council employees filling page after page with meaningless
notes, the room was home to mainly disabled people. Broken bodies and
broken minds with some pretty serious axes to grind.
The coffee was strictly Government
issue. Think prison. Think hospital. Think school. Starbucks might be
teaching us all we need to know about dodging tax, but they have a
long way to go before the great organs of the State discover that a
few pence extra spent on decent coffee is actually a pretty damn fine
way of infesting public funds.
Whatever.
The event was run by a couple of
enthusiastic young women. Once they overcame the mandatory mini
crisis with the power point projector, they kicked things off with
statistics.
The numbers on the screen soon started
to ring bells and make connections. Numbers introduced themselves in
my mind and started to network.
Amount chopped from the Welfare Bill?
£27 billion a year, mainly from those guilty of the crime of being
disabled. Ouch.
Other recent numbers stepped forward
and said “Hang on a minute, you're a bit like me!”
Cost of four nuclear subs to carry
Trident 2? £32 billion.
London pocket money for the Scottish
Government to provide roads, cops, hospitals and schools for 5
million people? £30 billion.
Bankers bonuses last year? £40
billion.
Don't you just love the logic of the
capitalism of the new Millennium. Bankers screw up. Bankers crash the
world. So what do you do? Well, duh! Give the self same bankers £40
billion and take it out on the real bad guys to the tune of £27
billion. Because we all know in our heart of hearts that all the
problems of the last few years are entirely down to those scheming
swine in wheelchairs. Did they seriously think they would be allowed
to sabotage the American mortgage market and actually get away with
it?
Once the numbers
were done with, the presentation moved along to an unexpected
destination. Human Rights. One by one the screen showed the terms and
conditions of the various carved in stone rights we can all now
demand and enjoy. The fruit of seventy years worth of careful work to
try and make sure that there can never again be the kind of crash in
the value of human life the world witnessed in 1940's.
We were told there
is no means testing when it comes to having access to these Human Rights.
All you need to qualify is to be a bona fide human being. Once you
tick the Homo Sapiens box, you are eligible for the right to be safe,
free, sheltered, warm and fed. Those in charge of nations have a
legal duty to make sure these rights are in place for every man,
woman and child in the Realm.
Each one of the
these commendable terms and conditions asked pretty serious questions
of the Welfare Reforms. Is the Department of Work and Pensions
actually breaking the law by plunging so many into near destitution
in the name of austerity and helping the cause of George Osborne for
Prime Minister?
It seems like they
probably are. Not that anyone is about to take them to court any time
soon. So a moot point then. It's the hard edged world of Uncle Joe Stalin.
When a person is killed it is a tragedy. When a million people people
are killed it is a statistic. When mentally ill poor person on a
benefit sanction nicks a Mars bar in a Spar shop, they will be hauled
up in front of the judge to have the book thrown at them. When the
DWP ignores all those cast in stone human rights and picks the
pockets of millions of disabled people, well there isn't an ambulance
chasing lawyer in sight.
Break time. I
collared one of the enthusiastic young ladies to ask a couple of
questions about the small print.
You were saying that
to be eligible for Human Rights all you need to do is prove that you
are a human being.
Yes.
What about if you
are a migrant?
Ah.
Not really a human
being then?
No. 'Fraid not. You
are only an actual human being if you have the right kind of
paperwork for the country where you happen to be at the time. You
need a state to be deemed to be an actual human.
So if you are in a
country that has signed up to guarantee Human Rights, you are not
actually eligible for any Human Rights unless you have the right
paperwork. And if all the paperwork you DO have comes from a country
where they don't do Human Rights whether you are deemed to be a human
being or not, well then of course you can't have any Human Rights
because there are none to be had.
I can't say I was
surprised. It was the same bottom line we are seeing quite a bit of
at First Base right now. We are feeding two of these non human being
families at the moment. Four adults and eight kids under the age of
ten and not a human being among them.
To say they have no
Human Rights at all would not be true. If they get stabbed, they have
the right to call the cops and the cops will come. And the kids are
human enough to have the right to go to school although they are not
human enough to warrant free meals and help with the cost of
uniforms.
Warmth, shelter and
full bellies? Forget it. Not a chance.
One of the families
is rapidly approaching complete crisis. D Day arrives on 17 May which
is the day when they will be thrown out onto the streets. A mum and a
dad and four young kids, one of whom isn't very well at all. They
have asked nicely for the right to shelter and warmth? But asking
nicely hasn't got them very far. The answer is always the same. Just
go home. You lack the right paperwork for us to classify you as the
kind of human being who is entitled to all that warmth and shelter
stuff.
So go home. Do not
pass go. Do not collect £200.
Home? Sunny Tunisia.
Enjoy the beach and the museum and as a free extra, you can yourself get cut in
half by a Paradise seeker with an AK47. Sunny Tunisia where a young
market trader doused himself in petrol and flicked his lighter.
Remember? A flick of a Bick and the Arab Spring was born. Jihadis and
secret policemen and 50% unemployment and the shadow of hunger
stretching out further with every passing day.
But never mind all
that. Just go home. We really aren't remotely interested in any of
the niceties. The small print. Not our problem. We have a book to
follow. To the letter. And the word is as clear as clear can be. If
the person doesn't have the paperwork to categorically prove they are
a genuine human being, then they get nothing. Nada. Zip.
End of.
Is it worth
mentioning that the kids are settled in their school and English is
now their first language? That they are used to different letters
entirely from Arabic letters? That they are used to writing from left
to right and not from right to left? Does that not make even a jot of
difference?
Oh pleeeeeaaase.
Spare me the whining. What do you take us for? Some kind of assholes?
Come on. Just piss off home.
Actually, at this
point I really need to be fair. I know for a fact the the good folk
in Dumfries and Galloway Council have no wish whatsoever to see our
Tunisian family out on the streets. Their instincts are to follow
each and every one of the Human Rights requirements available to
human beings with the right paperwork. But there is a problem. Her
Majesty's Home Office is darkly suspicious of Scottish Councils. They
don't trust Scottish Councils to crack the whip in the required
manner. So Her Majesty's Home Office is keeping a very close eye
indeed on these pesky Scottish Councils. And a very clear message has
been sent. If we catch you giving Human Rights to anyone who lacks
the right kind of paperwork to be deemed to be a human being worthy
of such rights, then we will most certainly throw the book at you.
As in the High Court
and the best QC money can buy. And we will take you to the cleaners
and we really, really don't give a shit how broke you are. Not our
problem. Got yourselves a fine of £500,000? Oh diddums. So lay off a
few bin men. Serves you right. It's all about being better together,
right?
So there we are. The clock is ticking
down to May 17. The dad came in to see me yesterday. Excellent
English quietly spoken. Just a long shot. A straw clutched at. If I
could think of anything. Anything at all....
And what can you say? Can I imagine
being in his shoes? No. No even nearly. Four young kids and nothing
you can do to stop the nightmare from happening. Not eligible for a
penny of State support. Not allowed to do so much as an hour's worth
of work.
And of course I felt useless and angry
and ashamed and all the usual stuff but not a single one of those
emotions was worth a jot to the dad with despair in his eyes.
So here's the thing. The community is
the only show in town now. Maybe there is a deal to be struck. Just
maybe. Maybe there is somebody out there with a big house and a big
garden. And maybe they are entering the autumn of their years and
keeping on top of the big house and the big garden is starting to be
too much. And maybe they lack the funds to employ the services of a
housekeeper of a gardener to help out? Maybe? Well, I have had a chat
with the dad and he says he would do the garden and his wife would do
the ironing and the cleaning in return for a roof over their heads.
Or maybe someone out there has a
caravan site and might be interested in offering a caravan in return
for work undertaken?
Maybe. Of maybe someone out there might
have some other ideas. If you have, please share them. Absolutely
anything. Because you know what? These good people absolutely ARE
human beings no matter what the Home Office has to say about it. Are
we going to see this lovely family tossed out onto the street? Or is
there something we can do about it?
Here's hoping. If you know anyone or
have any good ideas give me a bell on 07770 443483.
Here's hoping.
Tragic, just tragic. If I could, I'd invite them to stay with me, but sadly I don't have the room.
ReplyDeleteMark, I'll be down your neck of the woods, a week on Monday. I have a couple of bags of clothing, that I can drop off, if you can use them.
Hi there. We aren't actually geared up to store clothing - every square inch is given over to food parcel stuff. However make sure you come in to say hello. The kettle will be on. We are open between noon and 2pm
ReplyDeleteI will pop in, would be good to meet you, and your heroic team.
DeleteI'll give the clothing to a charity shop.