Within a week, my car was broken into. There was music all hours, people in and out. Then the smell came through. Cigarettes, cannabis, then something harsher. My kids started getting headaches.” Jenny* has lived in Perivale, a west London suburb once nicknamed “Nappy Valley” for its safe streets, family-friendly feel and quiet gardens, for 20 years.
That changed for her in 2021, when the house next door was bought by an investment company and converted into an HMO (house of multiple occupation) which housed a mix of British residents from troubled backgrounds. In recent years, there has been an explosion of HMOs, with the soaring cost of living in the capital meaning that many cannot afford to rent a flat themselves. Now, asylum seekers are likely to overwhelm a system already at breaking point.
According to Home Office data, there were more than 32,000 asylum seekers in hotel accommodation as of June 2025. Protests outside asylum hotels became a familiar scene in London this summer. From Epping to Canary Wharf to Islington, placards and chants echoed a singular demand: move asylum seekers out of taxpayer-funded hotels and “protect” local communities, especially women and children. Epping Council even took its objections to the High Court, arguing that asylum seekers housed in the local Bell Hotel posed risks. Their case will be heard again on October 15.
Meanwhile, the Labour government has committed to ending the use of hotels altogether. The Government is scrambling for options to rehouse the asylum seekers currently in hotel accommodation, with ex military sites a current focal point. But there isn’t enough space to house everyone there, and with thousands arriving in small boats every week, Keir Starmer’s new home secretary Shabana Mahmood faces a Sisyphean challenge.
This will mean a dispersal of asylum seekers into HMOs and that, campaigners say, could turn a housing model already riddled with crime, exploitation and profiteering into an even more volatile flashpoint.
What is an HMO?
A property is classed as an HMO if at least three tenants forming more than one household live there, sharing kitchen or bathroom facilities, while large HMOs house five people or more. They range from student flats and young professionals’ digs to council-commissioned properties used to house vulnerable groups: ex-offenders, addicts, rough sleepers and people with mental health problems. A third of Britain’s HMOs are in London, comprising a key part of the city’s rental infrastructure.
Payman, a 32-year-old Iranian, came to the UK on a small boat after he was persecuted in Iran for converting to Christianity and holding perceived anti-regime beliefs. He spent months in a west London asylum hotel before gaining refugee status and being given 28 days to leave the hotel. “Friends helped me find an HMO run by a private company. They keep Iranians together, which makes it safer. But others are not so lucky. A friend was placed with an alcoholic who brought home rubbish bags every day,” he says.
Payman watches the protests on TV with unease. “People think hotels are bad. But at least there’s some control. In houses, you can’t put security on every door. It can be worse for the community,” he says. “People protesting refugees in hotels should be careful what they wish for.”

HMOs can come with problems, and critics say the risks multiply when vulnerable people are packed in without proper safeguards.
‘It changed everything’: when HMOs move in
For Jenny, the house next door in her previously pleasant Perivale street made life completely unbearable. As though the drugs seeping through the walls and making her children sick wasn’t enough, soon she noticed groups of men loitering on corners, dealing drugs during the day. “One HMO nearby had a registered sex offender. It was next to a school. He flashed at children.”
The breaking point came when Jenny herself was threatened. “I’d just come back from shopping. Two men were outside my gate — I asked them to move. They taunted me and threatened to rape me. Afterwards, I shook for hours,” she says. Jenny later learned that other tenants were recently released from prison, with serious mental health needs.
“They need help, support, a way back into society,” Jenny says. “But they were crammed into shoebox rooms with no supervision. That’s not rehabilitation, it’s a money-making scheme.”
HMOs proliferated from 2015 partly due to a change to the planning act which allowed landlords to convert family homes into small HMOs, known as the “permitted development right”. Housing shortages and rent increases created additional demand for HMOs.
Local authorities could still introduce an Article 4 Direction — a regulation to limit HMO conversions which is often used in areas with high concentrations, but only after lengthy consultation.
Tightened licensing regulations then meant that the number of new HMOs has been falling since 2018. The Office for National Statistics estimated there were 142,483 HMOs in London in 2023, with Ealing, Brent, and Tower Hamlets having the highest numbers per borough. That is now likely to change — and not just because of asylum seekers entering the system.
Some experts report a recent “explosion”. “People cannot afford to rent a home or a flat in their own right”, says Faraz Baber, COO of planning consultancy Lanpro. “That, of course, for those landlords that are operating family homes, means they are able to accrue a premium because they’re getting multiple people living in one of their properties.”
Renting individual rooms generates higher income than renting to a single household
The HMO attraction for landlords
It’s a lucrative business. According to research by Aldermore Bank, 30 per cent of HMO landlords have gross rental income of between £100,000 and £199,999, compared to just 10 per cent of non-HMO landlords. This is because renting individual rooms generates higher gross rental income than renting to a single family or household. For landlords, HMOs can mean guaranteed rent. When vulnerable groups need housing, landlords will get rent directly from housing benefits. For some investors and landlords, ex-offenders, addicts and asylum seekers are a profitable market. Some councils even pay a premium rate for harder-to-house groups. “It’s an absolute money-making scheme,” one Perivale resident says bluntly.
Councils overwhelmed, residents ignored
Yet while landlords cash in, residents say local authorities are failing to protect them. Jenny’s group, Medway Village Residents Association, sent around a thousand emails to Ealing Council, warning about drug use, sexual harassment and antisocial behaviour. Responses were slow and, they say, dismissive.
“Councils like Ealing consistently fail to enforce licence conditions,” Jenny says. “We had to fight for an Article 4 Direction to stop automatic conversions. It took protests and sleepless nights. But the community is united and is a driving force on its way to eradicating problems completely.”
Ealing Council told The Standard: “We investigate all complaints of anti-social behaviour and poor waste management and encourage residents to contact us if they are aware of these problems. If properties are found to be poorly managed, and if anti-social behaviour is not appropriately dealt with by the licence holder, we will take action to revoke their property licence.”
As the question of where to house asylum seekers looms, Article 4 can be overruled by the Secretary of State. A government paper states: “There are certain permitted development rights that cannot be withdrawn by any Article 4 direction. These exemptions are to ensure permitted development rights related to national concerns.”
“We are working closely with local authorities, property partners and across government so that we can accelerate delivery and more detail will be set out in due course,” said the Home Office in a statement to The Standard, when asked about the future of asylum seeker accommodation, should hotels no longer be used. Government contractors such as Clearsprings Ready Homes are seeking landlords willing to house them in HMOs. The offer includes guaranteed rent, long leases and management handled by the contractor.
“A five-year fixed deal with a government contract is very attractive. For investors, the numbers add up,” says Baber.
But he warned that moving asylum seekers into HMOs could raise concerns for local communities. “In hotels, services and security can be provided. Once dispersed, they could be anywhere — next to schools, care homes, on quiet estates. HMOs don’t control who lives together.”
There are also questions over the impact on existing renters, who are already seriously squeezed with London’s soaring rental costs. “Landlords may decide to switch because the return on an HMO with a government contract is far higher. That could push private tenants out,” Baber says.
Vulnerable women at risk
For charities working with women, the implications are stark. Neelam Rose, a women’s rights activist who supports and advocates for survivors of domestic and sexual violence, worked with a female tenant who was groomed by an HMO landlord, who offered reduced rent in exchange for sexual favours.
She also supported Sarah*, a young woman fleeing honour-based violence, after council housing placed her in an HMO in north London with refugees. “She thought it was a safe haven. Instead, she was isolated, surrounded by men she found menacing. Eventually she disclosed she’d been sexually assaulted by one of them. She didn’t report it. She had no other housing option,” says Rose.
“I don’t want to stigmatise all male asylum seekers,” Rose stresses. “Predatory behaviour isn’t unique to them. But cultural misogyny, isolation and lack of safeguards make women especially vulnerable. This will get worse if asylum seekers are funnelled into HMOs.”
Solace Women’s Aid reports similar cases with HMO tenants from British backgrounds. “We supported a woman who was given temporary accommodation in an HMO,” a caseworker says. “She felt so unsafe seeing groups of men outside that she didn’t even enter the property. She went back to her abuser instead. That happens monthly.”
The charity notes that harassment can start with small, unwanted comments or touching, before escalating into assault. Survivors often stay silent, fearing eviction.
For experts, the winners are clear: landlords and investors. “The Government is trying to end hotels by stealth,” one Medway group member said. “But unless they fund enforcement, extend move-on times, and commission proper supported housing, this will only worsen exploitation — of both communities and migrants.”
If the High Court sides with Epping Council this month, the pressure to close asylum hotels will only grow. For landlords, the financial pull is obvious.
*some names have been changed