Sara Samuels, Nottingham Socialist Party
Recently I was in the unfortunate position of facing eviction. My landlord hadn’t been doing what they were supposed to and therefore was having their property repossessed.
I received a notification to ‘the occupier’ of this and started a process in which I believed I was being responsible and acting early enough to prevent my and my children’s homelessness.
I looked online and found the correct form to submit to the court. I compiled a document folder of evidence to prove my legal occupation of the property, created a rent statement, wrote a witness statement and printed off utility bills. This, if successful, would give me an additional two months to find somewhere else to live.
Fortunately, I have the means to create and print documents, access to technology and the skills to use it, many don’t.
Unfortunately, what I wasn’t able to do was to get through to different advice and support services when I tried to call them. A combination of a demanding full-time job and limited opening hours added to the barriers.
I spoke to my employer, and they allowed me to have some time during work hours to present my documents down at the courthouse. Another thing many would not benefit from.
When I arrived, after waiting for a longer time than expected and being searched, I walked to the help desk and was met with a locked door with a sign saying ‘appointment only’. Nothing online had told me! I called the telephone number and asked for an appointment or to be able to submit the documents. I was told I would have to submit them all online.
I left feeling despondent and frustrated. I felt played with by the system.
I submitted all of the documents online and received a reply within 24 hours. However, the reply said that they couldn’t submit the request to the judge as I wasn’t a ‘named party’. Should I wish to become a named party, I needed to make that application separately and then resubmit my application.
If I’m honest, I cried. What does being a named party mean? Does it make me liable for any legalities? How was I going to find time to do that and work and parent and live? And swallow the anxiety that was now becoming part of everyday life?
I tried to get through to the support services printed on the back of the notice – I didn’t get through.
I contacted the court: ‘We can’t tell you anything’.
I contacted my landlord, who promised me the eviction was cancelled.
All I could do was wait, with this horrible heavy lump in my stomach that the court-appointed bailiffs may still turn up, that my landlord wasn’t being honest, or that the system would just not work.
Stuck with my landlord, stuck with the legal system, stuck with overburdened, underfunded support and advice services, and stuck in a housing crisis created by a system that does not serve the very people that keep it functioning with our labour.
I sat on eviction day by the window waiting for the bailiffs, they didn’t come. The eviction was cancelled and my family aren’t homeless.
I consider us lucky. Hundreds of others aren’t. During 2024-25, over 1,300 homeless children and around 640–700 families were stuck in temporary accommodation across Nottingham. Why? High rents that exceed the local housing allowance and a mass shortage of social housing.
We need an alternative!
