Homelessness with a Roof

"This is a place where dreams go to die."

(Rude Awakenings from Sleeping Rough.)

?I heard those words years ago, standing outside a derelict building masquerading as the "happily ever after" solution to my own homeless status. That phrase proved sadly prophetic, not just in relation to my own circumstances, but to the state of housing across the United Kingdom. Through my journey, I have witnessed the systematic warehousing of vulnerable people up and down the country in properties that proved to be dream-killers rather than sanctuaries of hope.

?There is an assembly-line efficiency to how vulnerable individuals are packaged and stored in these properties, with the same care and consideration given to the dented tins tossed in the bargain bin at your local supermarket.

?Meat is processed. The homeless deserve better.

?The signs of decay are consistent before you step inside. Unkempt yards stand in vivid contrast to the neighbouring properties as overgrown weeds compete with scattered beer cans for aesthetic glory. Overstuffed trash cans spew forth empty pizza boxes and rotting, half-eaten food for the local vermin to scavenge. Windows streaked with impenetrable grime that even rain can’t wash away prevent the need for curtains. Drug paraphernalia adorn the entranceways like macabre Christmas decorations strung by elves high on Rudolph’s ‘snow.’

?Inside, the scenario grows more grotesque. The stench of stale beer, marijuana and mold assaults your olfactory senses as you cross the threshold. Walls showcase peeling paint, torn wallpaper and unidentifiable stains. The stairwells feature broken banisters, with nails and splintered wood protruding from each treacherous step. In the communal kitchens, more drug paraphernalia litter the countertops while the overflowing rubbish bin provides a reeking, rotting, revolting buffet for flies, maggots and mice.

?"These are not sheltered sanctuaries from the dangers of the streets. These are holding pens for charities to shelve their processed clients, often throwing alcoholics and addicts together in a single house to succumb to their chemical dependencies hand in hand in a freefall of enablement." (Rude Awakenings from Sleeping Rough.)

?Hardened addicts are housed alongside those desperately hoping to overcome their demons, creating an environment where relapse isn't just likely - it's almost guaranteed. County lines operators have recognized these buildings for what they are: warehouses of vulnerability, ripe for exploitation. They no longer need to scour the streets for targets to exploit – the system has conveniently gathered them under one roof. Driven by addiction and debt, the residents become active participants in the expanding drug networks, selling them on the streets, in the schoolyards, even the homeless charities and soup kitchens themselves.

?These ‘sanctuaries’ are not stepping stones to a better life - they are dead weights dragging people deeper into despair. They provide minimal support while pocketing millions for slumlords and drug dealers. Meanwhile, legitimate support services are stretched beyond breaking point as they fight the onslaught of problems these properties create.

?For the chaos extends beyond the lives of the individual residents, significantly impacting local communities through increased crime rates and anti-social behaviour. In addition to spreading drugs, rising incidents of violence, prostitution, and theft contribute to declining safety, particularly at night. Local services strain under this pressure, with police resources diverted from other priorities.

?The number of crimes committed by and against the homeless and tenants in these supported accommodations that are prevented from being reported by the police and charities themselves would likely horrify the general public - not just petty misdemeanours, but serious criminal acts including burglary, violent assault, and rape.

The charitable sector's marketing materials never show these details, especially at Christmas. Their glossy brochures and heartwarming social media posts showcase smiling, grateful faces and clean, welcoming spaces. They weave heavily edited stories of transformation and redemption, of lives rebuilt through their benevolent intervention. It’s lovely. It’s heartwarming. It brings in the money. It’s crap.

?What they don't show is the reality of what happens after the photos are taken and the donations secured.

?They communicate with Orwellian double-speak that permeates the homeless sector. Questions are met with stone-faced smiles and variations of "Don't worry about it. Are you feeling okay?" "It's too complicated. Are you feeling okay?" or the especially chilling "We know what we're doing. …. Are you feeling okay?"

?When concerns are raised, the response is depressingly predictable. Staff members hold "informal chats" that feel more like performance art than genuine dialogue. Promises are made, then broken; questions are deflected and concerns are dismissed with the ubiquitous response, “You misunderstood. …. Are you feeling okay?” The truth gets lost in the unending fog of gaslighting.

?And they make damn sure they control the narrative, the paperwork, and the public discourse. The processing assembly line continues unabated, while the marketing machine churns out more success stories, more transformative narratives, and more calls for donations to support their ‘life-changing work.’

?What is particularly insidious is how this system perpetuates dependency while claiming to promote independence. Too many charities running these properties often lack proper aftercare for success beyond keeping the beds filled. They continue to refer vulnerable individuals into these properties while knowing the conditions and dangers. They continue to celebrate "successful outcomes" while sweeping incident reports detailing violence and abuse under the bureaucratic rug. They continue to promote their solutions to “end homelessness” with your money, while their clients flee back to the streets for safety.

?Invariably, those clients are forced to return through charity and police intervention, with threats of arrest and sectioning if they don’t comply. Stripped of their dignity, they are lectured, chastised, even punished for daring to resist the suffocating ‘care’ that imprisons them. Each return is a brutal reminder that their survival depends on submitting to a system that calls its oppression kindness. And the cycle of benevolent terror begins again —a relentless cycle of institutional abuse masquerading as compassion.

?“This is not a step to independence, for the conditions make it virtually impossible to obtain employment, let alone keep it for any length of time. Whether intentional or not, the tenants are simply set-up for failure. Many do, and find themselves falling deeper into their addictions, falling back onto the streets, and calling on the charities that put them there to pick up the pieces again. You don’t need a career in business journalism to know the best customer is a repeat customer." (Rude Awakenings from Sleeping Rough)

?And repeat customers are exactly what this system produces - individuals revolving between street homelessness and these ‘benevolent’ holding pens, never breaking free.

And here lies the cruel paradox at the heart of the system: many choose to return to the streets rather than remain in these "safe" accommodations. The charity fundraising materials never mention this bitter truth - that their "solutions" can be more dangerous than the problems they claim to solve. The streets, with all their dangers, offer more safety than these confined spaces of sanctioned violence. Better to face the known risks of the streets than be trapped in an enclosed space with unpredictable violence. At least in the streets, you can run.

?This is not housing – it is homelessness with a roof, a storage facility for people society would rather not see, packaged with just enough "support" to maintain the illusion of help while ensuring a steady stream of repeat customers. This is not successful resolution, but dehumanising machinery of false hope, grinding vulnerable lives between the gears of fundraising campaigns and minimal accountability.

The solution isn't simply more regulation. We need a fundamental rethinking of how we approach supporting vulnerable individuals. Reform must prioritise the well-being of residents and the surrounding communities. This can only be achieved through greater transparency and accountability, increased community involvement, and open communication between the charities, social services, the police, the general public —and the homeless themselves!

Until we acknowledge this reality - until we stop accepting the charitable sector's PR campaigns about "successful resolutions" and "happy endings," nothing will change. The processing will continue. The stone-faced smiles will persist. The marketing materials will keep promising transformation while delivering trauma. And vulnerable individuals will continue to be warehoused in conditions that make independence impossible, trapped in a system that processes people with all the care and consideration of tinned meat on a supermarket shelf.

We are not “ending homelessness” – we are simply giving it a roof and calling it salvation. The truth is much darker: we have created a system where the streets themselves become a refuge from our purported "solutions," where the absence of shelter can feel safer than the presence of walls. We can do better. We must do better.

I know. Because I’m back on the streets again. Escaping the drug users. Escaping the violence.

Merry Christmas England.

Do better.