The email is brief and to the point. “I am at risk of being homeless as my fiance is kicking me out,” it starts. “I have lots of cuts and bruises from fights we have. I am scared. If he evicts me I have nowhere to go. I can stay at my nan’s until Sunday, but after that I have nowhere. I don’t know what to do. The violence is horrible.”
The plea from a young woman arrives on a bank of screens in a basement office, loaned to the organisation in central London, where staff and volunteers operate a helpline for the youth homelessness charity Centrepoint. It’s not exceptional: one in every 20 calls or emails are prompted by domestic abuse, another three in 20 by relationship breakdown. Most often, though, young people get in touch because they can no longer stay with their families.
“We ask them if they have evidence they have been shut out by their parents,” says Paul Brocklehurst, who manages the service. “For example, texts from their mum saying, ‘You can’t come home’.”
Such advice can sound shockingly clinical, but the Centrepoint team is skilled in knowing what evidence homeless young people need to make a case to local councils to get access to housing. The odds are stacked against them, and the chances of being assessed as having priority need are slim, but applicants are more likely to be successful if they can prove they are at risk or have a health condition. Often they may be reluctant to disclose a diagnosis, or unaware of the importance of doing so.
“I had a young guy last week who had been evicted and had severe mental health issues and had attempted suicide,” recalls Nina Calder, an experienced advice worker on the helpline. “It only came out later in the conversation that he was also diabetic and insulin-dependent. That could make all the difference to his case because insulin has to be kept in a fridge.”
Giving young people direct access to such specialist knowledge and practical assistance is why Centrepoint set up the helpline this year. The charity, one of three supported by this year’s Guardian and Observer appeal, is better known for providing long-term accommodation and support for homeless under-25s. But it realised there was a pressing need for a service that could offer instant advice and help, and build a better picture of a growing problem that becomes visible only when young men and women end up on the streets.
Of more than 1,600 young people who contacted the helpline in its first six months, one in five were sleeping rough. About the same number were still in the family home, anticipating leaving, but the biggest group – almost a third – were sofa-surfing with their friends or relatives and exhausting their welcome.
Just such a call comes in to Calder. It’s a young man, let’s call him Rakesh, who is staying at a friend’s flat in east London but can no longer afford to contribute to rent or bills. He had been in local authority care until he turned 21 this year, and says he was at that point offered a flat, but turned it down because he was going overseas for an extended break. His personal adviser, allocated by the council, had quit and he had acted without any advice.
Calder’s expression speaks volumes, but she makes no comment and patiently sets out Rakesh’s immediate options: he should ask the council if it owes any continuing duty of care to him, which is probably unlikely, but he must also make a homelessness application and, if he is assessed as having no priority need, be sure to ask for a housing referral anyway. That may be unlikely, too, so she also advises him on local housing organisations to which he can self-refer.
Rakesh sounds grateful for the tips and for Calder’s calm counsel, if bemused by the system he has to wrestle with. You sense he will be back in touch.
Grace Ogunyemi, the helpline team leader, says the system is intimidating at the best of times, let alone when a young person is under great stress. It is vital, for instance, that they insist on a written decision from the local council on their eligibility for priority-need housing, rather than accept a verbal rejection. Once they have that piece of paper, legal avenues can be explored.
Most of the calls and emails to the helpline come from young people in towns and cities, but problems can be just as severe in rural areas. Ogunyemi recalls a recent contact from Cornwall, where locals face an uphill battle for accommodation, with many properties used as holiday homes. A young man had received a negative decision letter but found that local lawyers wanted payment – £180 is typical – even to consider his case. Ogunyemi spent hours searching for a solicitor who would give him an hour for free.
Did she succeed? “Oh yes,” she says. “I was proud of that one.”
