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'It was everything': riot victims struggle to move on from what was lost 'It was everything': riot victims struggle to move on from what was lost
(9 months later)
Gwen McIlree had just finished supper and was settling down to watch television when her old life began to unravel. The 70-year-old heard a noise outside and, peering through the curtains of the first-floor flat in Croydon she had lived in for 37 years, was surprised to see hundreds of young people gathering in the street below.Gwen McIlree had just finished supper and was settling down to watch television when her old life began to unravel. The 70-year-old heard a noise outside and, peering through the curtains of the first-floor flat in Croydon she had lived in for 37 years, was surprised to see hundreds of young people gathering in the street below.
What followed was a blur. McIlree remembers the windows of the shops below her flat being smashed; a white van on fire, the flames spreading to nearby traffic lights; two girls running out of a grocer's shop, each carrying a bottle of vodka; a mother running down the street with a sack of rice under her arm. Then a neighbour was at her door, urging her to get out as smoke from the shops began to spread into the flat. Grabbing a box of paperwork, she left by the fire escape as flames engulfed the building.What followed was a blur. McIlree remembers the windows of the shops below her flat being smashed; a white van on fire, the flames spreading to nearby traffic lights; two girls running out of a grocer's shop, each carrying a bottle of vodka; a mother running down the street with a sack of rice under her arm. Then a neighbour was at her door, urging her to get out as smoke from the shops began to spread into the flat. Grabbing a box of paperwork, she left by the fire escape as flames engulfed the building.
Several months later, McIlree's voice still cracks when she recalls what she lost that night. "Everything. Everything. [After] losing my husband [the previous] Christmas and just getting over that – this is where I always go a bit – I still had his ashes and they are gone. It was just everything."Several months later, McIlree's voice still cracks when she recalls what she lost that night. "Everything. Everything. [After] losing my husband [the previous] Christmas and just getting over that – this is where I always go a bit – I still had his ashes and they are gone. It was just everything."
New figures obtained by the Guardian show that out of 4,500 compensation claims submitted to nine police forces under the Riots Damages Act, more than half have been rejected, leaving hundreds of people whose lives – and often livelihoods – were destroyed struggling to make ends meet.New figures obtained by the Guardian show that out of 4,500 compensation claims submitted to nine police forces under the Riots Damages Act, more than half have been rejected, leaving hundreds of people whose lives – and often livelihoods – were destroyed struggling to make ends meet.
McIlree moved in with her daughter Sarah after losing her home, and the pair have been fighting for compensation as the pensioner tries to rebuild her life. "I'd kept receipts from the year dot," McIlree says. "I always did, and people used to laugh at me. The people and their assessors, all they wanted was receipts. And I kept saying I haven't got any, they've gone up in smoke."McIlree moved in with her daughter Sarah after losing her home, and the pair have been fighting for compensation as the pensioner tries to rebuild her life. "I'd kept receipts from the year dot," McIlree says. "I always did, and people used to laugh at me. The people and their assessors, all they wanted was receipts. And I kept saying I haven't got any, they've gone up in smoke."
McIlree is one of 45 victims of the civil unrest that swept through England last August who were interviewed as part of the Guardian and LSE's Reading the Riots project. Researchers travelled to the towns and cities worst hit by the four days of rioting, speaking to victims ranging from priests to pensioners, shopkeepers to homeowners.McIlree is one of 45 victims of the civil unrest that swept through England last August who were interviewed as part of the Guardian and LSE's Reading the Riots project. Researchers travelled to the towns and cities worst hit by the four days of rioting, speaking to victims ranging from priests to pensioners, shopkeepers to homeowners.
The research paints a bleak picture of abandonment – both at the time of the unrest and in the months that followed, as promises of help from the authorities often failed to materialise. Many talk about how they haven't moved on – and can't move on – from what happened 11 months ago.The research paints a bleak picture of abandonment – both at the time of the unrest and in the months that followed, as promises of help from the authorities often failed to materialise. Many talk about how they haven't moved on – and can't move on – from what happened 11 months ago.
McIlree eventually received £3,700 compensation and in the past few weeks Croydon council has found her a new home. But she is still struggling to come to terms with her new life.McIlree eventually received £3,700 compensation and in the past few weeks Croydon council has found her a new home. But she is still struggling to come to terms with her new life.
"I'd been on my own without my husband for six months and I was just getting used to it. And now I've been with Sarah and the children for six months, and I'm going to have to go and learn to be alone again. And that's a bit scary.""I'd been on my own without my husband for six months and I was just getting used to it. And now I've been with Sarah and the children for six months, and I'm going to have to go and learn to be alone again. And that's a bit scary."
The victims' testimony reveals not only the emotional scars and financial battles, but also widespread frustration with the police for perceived inaction at the time and with the authorities subsequently. It also reveals a perhaps surprisingly varied attitude towards the rioters.The victims' testimony reveals not only the emotional scars and financial battles, but also widespread frustration with the police for perceived inaction at the time and with the authorities subsequently. It also reveals a perhaps surprisingly varied attitude towards the rioters.
In the days after his dry-cleaning business was destroyed, Okay Niyazi would wake up and begin getting ready for work – before the reality hit that the business his family had run for 40 years had been destroyed. The 56-year-old says it was not until he was standing outside the ruins of his business, watching the demolition crews, that it began to sink in.In the days after his dry-cleaning business was destroyed, Okay Niyazi would wake up and begin getting ready for work – before the reality hit that the business his family had run for 40 years had been destroyed. The 56-year-old says it was not until he was standing outside the ruins of his business, watching the demolition crews, that it began to sink in.
"Even when they was knocking my business down, I was there still holding my shop door keys. Then I looked at it and said to [the] demolition [crew]: 'What am I carrying these for?'""Even when they was knocking my business down, I was there still holding my shop door keys. Then I looked at it and said to [the] demolition [crew]: 'What am I carrying these for?'"
Like many of those interviewed, Niyazi's identity was wrapped up in his business. He submitted a claim of £100,000, and although he received less he says the final settlement was fair. However, many of the initial promises of support and guidance have melted away. "Every time I contact my MP, the MP contacts government, and they say the only thing you can do is sign on. They say you've got to look for a job – [but] my shop is burned down, I'm confused, my head is mashed up, I'm depressed."Like many of those interviewed, Niyazi's identity was wrapped up in his business. He submitted a claim of £100,000, and although he received less he says the final settlement was fair. However, many of the initial promises of support and guidance have melted away. "Every time I contact my MP, the MP contacts government, and they say the only thing you can do is sign on. They say you've got to look for a job – [but] my shop is burned down, I'm confused, my head is mashed up, I'm depressed."
Niyazi's relationship with his family has become strained, and he is thinking of selling up and moving to Yorkshire. What really eats away at him, though, is the feeling that he should have done more to protect his business. After hearing about the riots, Niyazi went to see for himself what was happening. He was confronted by groups of masked men, and decided to turn back.Niyazi's relationship with his family has become strained, and he is thinking of selling up and moving to Yorkshire. What really eats away at him, though, is the feeling that he should have done more to protect his business. After hearing about the riots, Niyazi went to see for himself what was happening. He was confronted by groups of masked men, and decided to turn back.
"I feel bad because I should be there, in front of the shop to protect my business. It makes you feel you wasn't strong enough, tough enough to fight them. Who are they to come and burn my business – and then I stay back and let them burn it?""I feel bad because I should be there, in front of the shop to protect my business. It makes you feel you wasn't strong enough, tough enough to fight them. Who are they to come and burn my business – and then I stay back and let them burn it?"
The row of shops where his business stood now has a board up saying the property will be rebuilt. But Niyazi, who was a leaseholder, is still waiting to hear if and when the work will start. In the meantime, the compensation money he received is dwindling as he struggles to support his family. "Business you can go and start somewhere else, but those people [the customers] … they were part of my family."The row of shops where his business stood now has a board up saying the property will be rebuilt. But Niyazi, who was a leaseholder, is still waiting to hear if and when the work will start. In the meantime, the compensation money he received is dwindling as he struggles to support his family. "Business you can go and start somewhere else, but those people [the customers] … they were part of my family."
Many interviewees remain deeply affected by the experience of living through a riot. The loss of property and possessions was compounded by a realisation that their own safety had been at risk.Many interviewees remain deeply affected by the experience of living through a riot. The loss of property and possessions was compounded by a realisation that their own safety had been at risk.
Polka Rastovic first realised something was not right when groups of young people began to gather outside her wine bar in Ealing. She told the customers to leave and locked up, waiting at the back of the bar to see what would happen next.Polka Rastovic first realised something was not right when groups of young people began to gather outside her wine bar in Ealing. She told the customers to leave and locked up, waiting at the back of the bar to see what would happen next.
"They started to burn cars, then I could hear the terrible noise of smashing, screaming, shouting and I just was so scared. I was thinking, hoping, they're going to miss us, because we've got such a small, narrow frontage," she says."They started to burn cars, then I could hear the terrible noise of smashing, screaming, shouting and I just was so scared. I was thinking, hoping, they're going to miss us, because we've got such a small, narrow frontage," she says.
As the looting intensified, her son, having earlier pleaded on the phone for Rastovic to leave, arrived at the back door. By now rioters had surrounded the building: a metal chair was thrown through the window and rioters poured into the bar, smashing anything they could get their hands on. Rastovic and her son locked themselves into the kitchen at the back of the building.As the looting intensified, her son, having earlier pleaded on the phone for Rastovic to leave, arrived at the back door. By now rioters had surrounded the building: a metal chair was thrown through the window and rioters poured into the bar, smashing anything they could get their hands on. Rastovic and her son locked themselves into the kitchen at the back of the building.
"We were cramped in this little space [which was] very dark. We could hear them smashing and it was really, really scary. We could hear them saying: 'Burn it, burn it – where are the monies? Where are the tills?'""We were cramped in this little space [which was] very dark. We could hear them smashing and it was really, really scary. We could hear them saying: 'Burn it, burn it – where are the monies? Where are the tills?'"
At the back of the building, hundreds more rioters had gathered, setting fire to skips and a nearby building. "I was just thinking: that's it, we're going to die now," Rastovic says.At the back of the building, hundreds more rioters had gathered, setting fire to skips and a nearby building. "I was just thinking: that's it, we're going to die now," Rastovic says.
She does not know how long they were trapped in the kitchen, listening as her business was smashed up. Eventually, when the noise died down, the pair made a dash for it, taking refuge in a nearby restaurant for the rest of the night. Their bar reopened three days later after help from the "broom army", and although Rastovic has yet to receive any compensation the business is doing well. But she says those few hours have changed her – and changed the way she views other people.She does not know how long they were trapped in the kitchen, listening as her business was smashed up. Eventually, when the noise died down, the pair made a dash for it, taking refuge in a nearby restaurant for the rest of the night. Their bar reopened three days later after help from the "broom army", and although Rastovic has yet to receive any compensation the business is doing well. But she says those few hours have changed her – and changed the way she views other people.
"I was afraid for a while, I have to say. A few occasions when I heard a noise at the back, my immediate thought is somebody going to break in. It's obviously made me aware.""I was afraid for a while, I have to say. A few occasions when I heard a noise at the back, my immediate thought is somebody going to break in. It's obviously made me aware."
The research unearthed many acts of bravery and compassion amid the horror. Simon Morris, 29, parish priest of St Mary's in Tottenham, returned from a retreat in Norfolk when he heard about the looting and violence, and says he was moved by the way his community pulled together.The research unearthed many acts of bravery and compassion amid the horror. Simon Morris, 29, parish priest of St Mary's in Tottenham, returned from a retreat in Norfolk when he heard about the looting and violence, and says he was moved by the way his community pulled together.
"It sounds corny, but it was a bit like the blitz almost. You know, in the face of a really awful situation, actually getting on with it and almost having quite a jolly time. I'd come [to the church] and play the organ in the evenings.""It sounds corny, but it was a bit like the blitz almost. You know, in the face of a really awful situation, actually getting on with it and almost having quite a jolly time. I'd come [to the church] and play the organ in the evenings."
Some victims express bewilderment as to why the riots happened and the motives of those taking part, but a significant number refuse to place the blame solely on the rioters.Some victims express bewilderment as to why the riots happened and the motives of those taking part, but a significant number refuse to place the blame solely on the rioters.
Dane Skaife, 25, manager of Timpson's cobblers in Salford, which suffered £80,000 of damage and was closed for six weeks, says: "There's no one to blame. I think it was just societal. It was more of a protest than an act of stealing for most people in Salford. I think Manchester were different, but in Salford they were just angry."Dane Skaife, 25, manager of Timpson's cobblers in Salford, which suffered £80,000 of damage and was closed for six weeks, says: "There's no one to blame. I think it was just societal. It was more of a protest than an act of stealing for most people in Salford. I think Manchester were different, but in Salford they were just angry."
Skaife points to the stark divide between the wealthy and the poor: "The people who are skint see that and get really angry. Plus they're not happy with the police."Skaife points to the stark divide between the wealthy and the poor: "The people who are skint see that and get really angry. Plus they're not happy with the police."
Ajay Bhatia, 52, whose restaurant in Birmingham was looted, is also sympathetic. "I don't blame those kids, they don't have anything to do, there're not jobs in the market, there's no work," he says.Ajay Bhatia, 52, whose restaurant in Birmingham was looted, is also sympathetic. "I don't blame those kids, they don't have anything to do, there're not jobs in the market, there's no work," he says.
Several interviewees mention unemployment as a key underlying factor. Angela Hall, 49, whose recruitment business in Tottenham was burned down on the first night of disturbances, says: "Unemployment in this area is phenomenal, one of the highest. I would like to be more involved in the kind of recruitment that will aid businesses in the area, and unemployment in the area.Several interviewees mention unemployment as a key underlying factor. Angela Hall, 49, whose recruitment business in Tottenham was burned down on the first night of disturbances, says: "Unemployment in this area is phenomenal, one of the highest. I would like to be more involved in the kind of recruitment that will aid businesses in the area, and unemployment in the area.
"I don't have any hatred, it wasn't personal, it was something that happened and everyone needs to look at themselves and work out why, what role they played – and what role they want to play going forward.""I don't have any hatred, it wasn't personal, it was something that happened and everyone needs to look at themselves and work out why, what role they played – and what role they want to play going forward."
Other interviewees express exasperation with the police for not doing more to protect their businesses and homes. A 53-year-old woman whose husband was held at knifepoint by looters at the family's shop in London says her repeated calls to the police were in vain. "I was on to the police and they said: 'I'm sorry, we can't do anything. We cannot send anybody there at the moment.' I called over and over again, and every time they said: 'Let me give you a crime reference.' I said: 'I don't want a crime reference, I want some help.'"Other interviewees express exasperation with the police for not doing more to protect their businesses and homes. A 53-year-old woman whose husband was held at knifepoint by looters at the family's shop in London says her repeated calls to the police were in vain. "I was on to the police and they said: 'I'm sorry, we can't do anything. We cannot send anybody there at the moment.' I called over and over again, and every time they said: 'Let me give you a crime reference.' I said: 'I don't want a crime reference, I want some help.'"
"The police did nothing to stop it," says David Cox, 50, whose sports shop on Walworth Road in south London was ransacked. "The government is always talking about taking funding away from the police, so I think it was their perfect opportunity to say: well, look what's happened. It will only get worse when there's no policemen around." Cox's view, it should be pointed out, was not supported by any of the police testimony gathered for this project."The police did nothing to stop it," says David Cox, 50, whose sports shop on Walworth Road in south London was ransacked. "The government is always talking about taking funding away from the police, so I think it was their perfect opportunity to say: well, look what's happened. It will only get worse when there's no policemen around." Cox's view, it should be pointed out, was not supported by any of the police testimony gathered for this project.
The overriding picture that emerges from the victims' testimony is one of lives permanently changed, businesses and homes destroyed, identities lost.The overriding picture that emerges from the victims' testimony is one of lives permanently changed, businesses and homes destroyed, identities lost.
Zak Hussein's cafe in Ealing, west London, was devastated by water damage after firefighters pumped gallons of water on to a fire next door: "Even now, when I go back to the shop, my heart sinks because I put so much effort trying to lift the business off the ground," he says. "I'm really, really struggling. I've got nothing to live off."Zak Hussein's cafe in Ealing, west London, was devastated by water damage after firefighters pumped gallons of water on to a fire next door: "Even now, when I go back to the shop, my heart sinks because I put so much effort trying to lift the business off the ground," he says. "I'm really, really struggling. I've got nothing to live off."
Marianne Simons' hairdressing shop in Croydon was looted and vandalised: "No one knows how long it took me to open this shop. No one knows how hard it was. So that's why I was thinking I wanted to kill [the rioters] – because they don't understand what I went through just to open the shop. But no one's interested now. It's come and gone, hasn't it?"Marianne Simons' hairdressing shop in Croydon was looted and vandalised: "No one knows how long it took me to open this shop. No one knows how hard it was. So that's why I was thinking I wanted to kill [the rioters] – because they don't understand what I went through just to open the shop. But no one's interested now. It's come and gone, hasn't it?"
The sense of desolation is striking even among those who have received some compensation and support. Mehmet and Burcin Akbasak arrived in the UK from Turkey eight years ago and in 2008 they brought their first property, a spacious flat above the Carpetright store in Tottenham. On the first night of rioting the building was destroyed and the couple lost all their possessions.The sense of desolation is striking even among those who have received some compensation and support. Mehmet and Burcin Akbasak arrived in the UK from Turkey eight years ago and in 2008 they brought their first property, a spacious flat above the Carpetright store in Tottenham. On the first night of rioting the building was destroyed and the couple lost all their possessions.
Sitting in their new flat three miles away in Crouch End, Mehmet says even friends have struggled to understand the impact that night had on them. "Some friends were discussing: 'Mehmet and Burcin will probably get hundreds of thousands.' No, they were saying 'they'll probably get millions – they are probably going to be rich'. But we don't want to be rich. We didn't want to change our lives. We were quite happy. Even if government gives me £1m, it doesn't bring our life back."Sitting in their new flat three miles away in Crouch End, Mehmet says even friends have struggled to understand the impact that night had on them. "Some friends were discussing: 'Mehmet and Burcin will probably get hundreds of thousands.' No, they were saying 'they'll probably get millions – they are probably going to be rich'. But we don't want to be rich. We didn't want to change our lives. We were quite happy. Even if government gives me £1m, it doesn't bring our life back."
In fact, the couple had to fight hard to get any compensation, and received less than £2,000 in the end – small comfort, they say, for the trauma they have been through. "I still feel this emptiness," says Burcin. "It's not about the money. It's really your life changed a little bit. Everything completely gone wrong. That's how we feel. You feel really empty."In fact, the couple had to fight hard to get any compensation, and received less than £2,000 in the end – small comfort, they say, for the trauma they have been through. "I still feel this emptiness," says Burcin. "It's not about the money. It's really your life changed a little bit. Everything completely gone wrong. That's how we feel. You feel really empty."
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