Change language
Actions
Displays
Remove from selection
Add to selection
Abstract

Council house sell-offs and the failure to build social housing during a time of spiralling rents and house prices have led to unprecedented levels of loneliness among elderly residents, it has been claimed.

While pensioners have stayed in their council flats, many of their children have had to move from the borough, often being squeezed out of the capital altogether by the high cost of living.


Three long-time Clerkenwell residents, who fondly remember growing up in a “two rooms and a bucket” tenement costing a few shillings a week to rent, have told the Tribune that, while their housing situation dramatically improved after the war, their children have suffered a different fate.

“We grew up in the borough of Finsbury in the 1950s,” said Patricia White, 74. “In those days, you didn’t need to worry about losing your job. There was plenty of work. And you didn’t have to travel far either.

“We had two rooms and a bucket and rationing went on until 1953. We used the public baths in Amwell Street to wash ourselves. It was tough but that’s where we get our strength from.”

She added: “Clerkenwell was a really nice area, Exmouth Market was very nice. These days it’s no longer a market, but back in those days it was a busy, proper market.”

When Ms White was growing up, large-scale damage and destruction during World War II had made the already poor housing conditions in Finsbury even worse.

In 1951, the census recorded that 44 per cent of households did not have access to piped water or were forced to share a tap. A quarter had to share a toilet with other households. On both measures, Finsbury was the worst borough in London.

However, after the war, the Labour-run Town Hall launched one of the most ambitious slum clearance and rehousing programmes in London through a combination of economic revival and political will.

“Finsbury was really on the up after the war,” Ms White said. “My mum got a brand new flat. She had a bathroom and I could not believe we had running water. We were over the moon.

“Unfortunately, we didn’t get a vote when we amalgamated with Islington [as part of the reorganisation of London local government in 1965]. They wanted to link up one poor borough with a rich borough, so we got paired up with Islington, which was poorer than us back then. I don’t think an awful lot more [new council housing] got built after that.”

Ms White and neighbours Hilda Maley, 92, and Betty Landers, 76, have witnessed the transformation of Clerkenwell from a traditional working-class district to the trendy neighbourhood it is today, albeit one where poverty and extreme wealth sit cheek by jowl.

The loss of traditional factory jobs, the introduction of new sources of employment, the arrival of newcomers to the council estates, gentrification and the loss of the sense of a tight-knit community are something they know all too much about.

“I had aunties and cousins round the corner. I don’t think you get a lot of that nowadays. You used to talk to your neighbours. ‘How’s so and so’ and “Is your mother OK?’, that sort of thing,” Ms White said.

“At the end of the day it comes down to housing. Years ago we all lived together. But now this housing situation means that families all got scattered around.

“People have gone to Chingford, Stevenage, Harlow. Families have gone out further and further. That’s when you get elderly people that have no family around them. There are a lot of lonely people.”

She added: “My son lives in Kent. Our kids, they couldn’t get a council house so they moved out. They’ve sold so many homes off.

“I really think that [right to buy] was a big mistake. It’s left a huge shortage and it’s ripped families apart really. Young couples, they can’t all get a mortgage. They’re building and building but young people can’t afford it.”

Ms Maley grew up in Bethnal Green, and moved into a pre-fabricated house in Hackney after the war. She later moved to Clerkenwell. Her sons live in Essex and Northampton. “They moved out because they couldn’t get a place in London,” she said.

But the pensioners consider themselves to be lucky, not least because they love Priory House, the sheltered accommodation scheme where they live.

“We’re the lucky ones,” Ms White added. “We’ve got each other, and we love living here. My son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren visit me all the time. But there are people that have got nobody. There’s an awful lot of loneliness out there.”