My experience of the Housing Ombudsman

Housing in the UK is broken. It’s either too expensive to buy, too expensive to privately rent, or, if affordable, in a bad state of disrepair. My flat falls into the latter category. My situation I live in social housing, in a small housing cooperative managed by a large housing cooperative. I have written before about how important and transformational having a home has been for me, but it has not come without struggle. Struggle to obtain it (a different story), and struggle with the landlord over disrepair for the entire time I have lived here. I obtained the keys in February 2021 and immediately reported signs of water ingress in the hallway. I followed this up the next day with photos of how the paint I applied had literally rolled off the walls due to water saturation and damp. The landlord’s managing agent acknowledged the report and said they had

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The Rock of Sunset

As you can see, this rock contains the sunset. Apparently, if you are willing to stand there long enough, it might even become the sunrise. But I’m an impatient sort, so for me, it was only ever the sunset. A nice one though, don’t you agree? I was on a journey from one there to another along the North Downs Way when I found it. After about five minutes of a captivated stare (and the occasional cautious caress), I felt my corporeal existence waning. My body seemed to melt away and then, the next thing I knew, I was on a small boat on that sea, sailing towards that giant black cloud on the horizon. I realised that I was dying, but at the time, I didn’t seem to mind that at all. As I sailed, all manner of strange beasties jumped out of the sea and over the bow of

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On safety and security as surveillance

Safety and security have become trigger words for me. They are gateways to instant mistrust and suspicion because they have come to symbolise a loss of my personal power and privacy. The state, and authority more generally, has no interest in keeping me, and other ordinary people, safe. They are simply interested in controlling us. For instance, nowadays banks very often use those words – safety and security – to freeze online payments people make. They claim they do it to protect you from fraud and keep you safe, but in reality, all they are doing is forcing you to give them more information about why you are transferring money to a person or organisation: they know the who, but with these ‘safety checks’, they are also collecting the why and the what of your relationship to the recipient. Similarly, this online safety bill should be more honestly entitled the loss

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On recent news coverage of Palestine and Israel

This week, I have seen a couple of recent news stories relating to Palestine and Israel: one which enraged me; one which provoked me. I made a throwaway collage on 27th February for Ephemera for the former story about how a pro-Israel lobby group made a London hospital take down art work by children from Gaza as they felt ‘threatened’. I am still struggling to find words to explain how rage-full I feel in response to that. That people representing one of the most belligerent, violent, and militarised countries on earth could consider children’s artwork threatening is an egregious farce and an abuse of the English language. What they did not want was for anyone outside of Gaza / Palestine to know the reality of those children’s lives. That the hospital would capitulate to this lie of vulnerability disgusts me. Today I read the historian Simon Schama calling for British Jews to

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