Thousands of residents are languishing on the waiting list for social housing in Redcliffe amid a crackdown on rough sleepers
When John, 81, fled the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968 at age 24, he never thought he’d end up living in a park outside Brisbane, Queensland.
“Every time I come here I wonder if I’ll find him alive,” says Beau Haywood, the founder of local food charity Nourish Street. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s found a rough sleeper dead.
John has spent a year at the car park at Bicentennial Park, one of a growing number of people living in cars, tents and worse – sheltering in corners and in plain sight all over the Redcliffe peninsula.
On Thursday night, Beau visits every one of them. He knows all the spots; the former methamphetamine addict was homeless here himself only a few short months ago.
The Guardian rides with Haywood from suburb to suburb to a dozen spots across the region. Here six tents behind a public swimming pool, there 30 people at the local showgrounds. He estimates 120 people all told, all living on the streets.
At about 9.30pm he feeds Norelle Wilkinson. The 70-year-old mother of four and grandmother to 12 retired after being judged permanently disabled. An insulin-dependent diabetic, she is now losing her eyesight and needs surgery.
Wilkinson is on the social housing waiting list, but has no indication of when she’ll get a roof over her head. On Thursday night she slept in her car, potentially violating a council order; it could cost her more than $8,000.
For Nourish Street, the final of three large-scale homeless encampments of the night is at the Gayundah Coastal Arboretum at Woody Point. It’ll be the last barbecue there; the 13 residents have been ordered to move on by Sunday. It’s just the latest in a series of policies implemented by a council determined to put an end to what the mayor last year called a “lenient” approach to rough sleepers.
Redcliffe, about 27km north of Brisbane’s CBD, used to be one of the cheaper places to live in south-east Queensland.
At the 2011 census, an ordinary Redcliffe household earned well below the national average, but paid just $280 a week in rent.
Homelessness rises in tight rental markets because there are few or no short-term affordable options, according to research from the United States. The Real Estate Institute of Queensland last year described Redcliffe’s rental vacancy rate, then 0.6%, as “razor thin”.
In the last five years house prices in the area have risen 80%. As a result of record low housing approvals, Brisbane is now Australia’s second-most expensive city.
In December, City of Moreton Bay councillors amended their local laws to prohibit “the keeping of animals in public spaces” or “the use of caravans, camper trailers and other vehicles embellished for the purposes of camping”. People have been issued notices threatening a fine up to $8,065.
A spokesperson for the council says no resident has been issued a fine under the new local law and local government can only levy a fine of $806. The maximum possible fine that can be imposed is $8,060, but can only be levied by a court.
Haywood says after the ordinance there was an immediate reduction in street sleeping. Many scattered, moved away, or hid – but others soon took their place, and Redcliffe’s parks are as full as ever.
Haywood blames the cost of living. “I’ve only seen maybe 10 or 11 people go into housing in the almost year I’ve been doing this. The wheels turn real slow,” he says.
At last count there were 47,820 people on the waiting list for public or community housing in Queensland; more than 10,000 are either homeless now or at risk of becoming so.
But it’s even worse in Redcliffe. According to Moreton Bay council there are 4,421 people on the local social housing waiting list – “the highest in Queensland”. There has been a 90% increase in the last decade, council says.
Like many charities, including the Breakfast Club and the Stand Up Step Out bus, Nourish Street is doing the best it can to make ends meet for homeless people while they wait. Two vans share free burgers all over the suburb, with local businesses donating ingredients and petrol.
Two of Thursday’s volunteers, Antony and Kealy, are homeless themselves. Kealy is 23, pregnant for the second time, and hopes to have a home by the time she has her twins.
Not everyone is happy with how the issue of homelessness is being handled.
Members of the local community have long lobbied the council to clear out Woody Point.
Homeless people in the arboretum have reported everything from eggs and insults to bricks being thrown at them.
Some town residents even blame those helping the homeless – they believe people set up tents in Redcliffe because they can expect a meal.
Haywood says Nourish Street has “definitely got more lovers than haters,” but says it’s easy for people to look down on rough sleepers.
“People are like: ‘they’re pigs. They just trash the park, they need to move on’. But [then they argue that if you] put them in the house they’ll do the same thing,” he says.
“It’s like, well, what’s the answer then?”
The City of Moreton Bay says it was forced to move on the residents of Woody Point, due to their public health risk and in order to conduct six months of remediation. The residents there would be the first to admit there are unsanitary conditions, including rats, flies and food waste, though they blame a lack of bins and other council services.
Either way, they’re going by Sunday.
Councillor Karl Winchester says: “we’ve heard loud and clear that people want action, and I know we have the overwhelming support from community to remediate the site”.
Phoebe (not her real name), a Redcliffe resident of 35 years, moved out of her van after being issued a notice. Last weekend she was given seven days to leave her tent.
This time she says she might move out of Moreton Bay entirely, just across Redcliffe’s twin bridges into the Brisbane local government area.
Griffith University’s Dr Katie Hail-Jares suspects that may be the Moreton Bay council’s ultimate aim, pointing to statements by the mayor that people should live in a state park because homelessness is a state issue.
“Nimbyism really is not about fixing the issue or trying to alleviate people’s experiences of harm. It’s really just about making it someone else’s problem,” she says.
“I look at this, and I’m horrified, but I also worry that other councils are looking at this and getting ideas.”
The Moreton Bay council denies the allegation, with a spokesperson saying the park is closing “due to … an escalated public health risk under the Public Health Act 2005. It’s not safe for people to be residing in these conditions”.
Minister for housing Sam O’Connor says housing officers had offered temporary emergency accommodation to “every person willing to engage with us at the Woody Point encampment”.
“Our teams also work to connect people to support services and to get them in the system to find longer-term housing solutions.”
Benjamin Ramsey has been on the social housing waiting list for three years, ever since he became homeless. It’s a little longer than the average wait time of two and a half years.
Ramsey has been offered temporary accommodation in Spring Hill, 30km away, which he called “ridiculous”.
He predicts that he’ll be back at Woody Point in six months – moving back the minute council reopens the park to people like him.
“What other option is there? Temporary accommodation is exactly that,” he says.