As a teenager, Jenny struggled at school because of her epilepsy. She missed a lot of classes and was segregated from her schoolmates when she took her GCSEs in case she had a seizure. She was bullied around the time of her exams and thinks it was because she was seen as different.

Jenny wanted to stay on at school, but didn't as she couldn't face more bullying. After leaving, she took an Entry to Employment course that helped build up her skills and confidence. She applied for a number of jobs but did not get any response. She then decided to try and get an apprenticeship in an office.

She says: "I wouldn't have minded doing some other type, but because of my epilepsy I can't do certain jobs."

Jenny started her apprenticeship and was on £80 a week, but only stayed there for a short while.

"I thought they're not giving me much to do and they weren't teaching me much so I thought, this isn't really an apprenticeship so I didn't do it in the end."

Jenny is currently waiting to hear from the hospital about brain surgery that will hopefully reduce the epileptic fits. She is concerned that the wait could delay her finding work but says: "It might be a bit easier finding a job after my surgery, I'll have more options probably, because I can't really work in factories at the moment."

"The money that I get in my bank isn't enough for me and my child to live on ourselves. My boyfriend's a bus driver but the money varies, he may get more one week than another.

And because we have to buy all the stuff like clothes, nappies, bottles, baby wipes and so on, the money can be tight, so we just have to budget.

I do walk past some shops and think ‘that's lovely, I would love to get Chloe that'. One day, when I'm working, then I will be able to provide better for her and when she wants things for her birthday or Christmas I'll be able to get it for her. And I can be proud and say ‘I got this out of my money'. I don't want to be on the dole forever.

Poverty means different things to different people. One person might say it's a low income and someone else could say it's to do with housing situations.

I suppose you could say that I live in poverty but I don't see myself as always living this way, because I can see myself achieving that goal, getting out of it, like working and studying.

"I find it a great struggle because when the prices rise, fresh vegetables are the thing that I can't get hold of because my money doesn't stretch that far. I'd like to be able to buy fresh meat and fish as well, but I can't.

Some people have lived in poverty all their lives, and they're in that sort of circle. They can't get out of it. Poverty's not just about a lack of money. It's about education as well. A lot of people haven't been educated properly, and they've not been to the right school.

The government are not really listening to us. If they were to listen and really reach out to us, we could make things better, make a better change within the government.

If you are living in poverty you are treated like a bit of dirt on the carpet. You're treated like an animal, they got no respect for you whatsoever.

They say they do listen, but they listen in one ear and it's out the other, and that's the way it's always been.

You get your money in one hand and then it's gone. You've got to stretch your money as much as you can. You try and try and try, but no matter how you try it just seems to disappear.

 

 

"At the moment I'm finding it hard to juggle my money. I've got to look after the kids and as well as myself, and it's just it's a nightmare.

I've got a 26-year-old daughter, and she's got a 22-month-old baby. And both of us are trying to make sure he's got the best, making sure he's got enough food, enough clothes, enough everything. Even though sometimes we have to go without, it doesn't matter, he's my boy at the end of the day.

One thing or another has gone up, like gas and electric, and a lot of people on benefits are finding it very hard. Even people who are working on a low wage are finding it really hard make their money last.

It means you've got to make sacrifices. You try and make the food that you've got last. Even if you haven't got a lot of food in the house, you've still got to make that stretch.

I try to make my money last that bit longer. If I haven't got a major bill to pay, it will last, but if I've got another bill coming in, it may last me the fortnight or it may not. It depends on what I've got to pay.

It's a nightmare sometimes, knowing what to do, because you think to yourself ‘well I've got nothing much to pay this week so probably that money will last'. But then you get a bill coming in and its just one of those things."

"I've found it quite difficult in recent years, even though I've always been relatively frugal. The eleven years I looked after my parents I went through all my savings and subsequently have been constantly trying to get back into a situation where I'm in a reasonable financial position. I've never owned a car. Never married. Never owned a house. I'm living in the house, which my parents left to my brother and myself.

A fortnight ago I had an interview, and needed to get a new pair of shoes. The four pairs of shoes I've got have all got holes in them. I had to phone the Water Board and say, ‘sorry I can't pay you this fortnight, I'll have to pay you in a fortnight's time'.

All my outgoings go out on the day I receive them. I pay water, electricity, everything else. It's increasingly difficult and sometimes you feel you just can't cope, and wonder ‘what's it all for?'

Five weeks ago I went to the cinema for the first time in a year. I don't have a television, but I felt bad for days before going. Could I really afford to spend £4? I felt bad about the fact that I was actually having an evening where I was doing something for myself, and trying to relax.

"Practically everything has gone up. My gas and electricity was £62 a month. It's now £90 a month. Water rates, they've gone up. My rent, thank heaven has stayed the same, but that's £350 a month.

Bus fares have risen eight times in the last couple of years. Three or four times last year they went up in price, and with us being on benefits, it's a hard thing to have to fork out for.

I shop round for the best prices for things like milk. I know it sounds awful, but I buy my milk wherever I can get it cheapest. The one thing I won't cut cost on is the price of bread. I'd rather pay £1.75 for two loaves than 45p because I know the girls are getting wholegrain. I'll search everywhere for good bread at a cheaper price. If I've got to walk there, I'll walk.

Weekend is normally the roughest patch because we get paid on a Monday. By the time the weekend comes around, if we haven't got it, we go without.

I'm trying to get a holiday this year. Not even an expensive holiday in a hotel. I want to be able to go by the sea, in a tent with my two grandkids. Is that too much to ask? But I know I can't afford it. It's pie in the sky."

Doug's residential home costs £945 a week, which is paid for out of his benefit entitlements and by the local authority. Because of the rules governing care home charges, he is allowed to keep £20.45 a week for his personal expenses. This covers clothes, entertainment and additional food.

If Doug works, he is only allowed to keep £20 of his earnings. The rest, unless he earns over £965 per week, must be used to pay for his home charges. £965 is the figure beyond which, he would have to pay all of his home charges. If his earnings were higher greater than £965, he might lose entitlement to benefits, which could affect other help he receives, such as his access to national health benefits.

In contrast, if he were able to access independent living within the community, his earnings would be ignored under the fairer charging guidance issued to local authorities. The barriers to working are not just financial.

Doug needs two personal assistants but there are only four in the home to provide help for all the residents. This creates difficulty on the days when he volunteers at the local school, because he needs help to get up in time.

“I want to go to work but, unless you’ve got a full time job, you’re having to pay for prescriptions, council tax that’s gone up, rent that’s gone up, and so on. You find out that your wages haven’t gone up like everything else and you’re stuck, you really are stuck.

Luckily I don’t have any loans on because we’re just managing to keep our heads above water again because we get child benefit. But it’s still hard to make ends meet. You’ve got to make sure you’ve got money for the week’s shopping or for the unexpected gas bill that comes through the door. Otherwise you’ll be sitting there in the winter with no heating because you can’t afford it.

I know people who are worse off than me. I see myself as I’m managing. We always get by somehow. I make sure my cupboards are full and freezers full. My kids come in and help themselves to what they want. They have a cooked meal every night. They don’t live on sandwiches or a piece of toast.

But sometimes all we can think about is ‘where’s the next £10 coming from for a new pair of shoes for the bairns?’ Or ‘can I pay this bill a week later and so I'll be able to do something for the kids?’”

She claimed asylum on arrival and was entitled to the basic support offered to asylum seekers, set at 30 per cent below what is given to those on income support. Like all asylum seekers, she was not allowed to work. She reported once a month and waited four years for a decision on her claim, which was eventually turned down in 2005.

Yeukai lodged a fresh claim, which she is still waiting to be processed. In the meantime, as a refused asylum seeker she lost all support and was left entirely penniless, without entitlement to housing and not allowed to work. She remains destitute, relying on the help of friends, well-wishers and charities.

She said: "It's really hard. I can't make any plans, I can't work or study. I feel as if I have been dehumanised by the system. It's difficult just to live, I have to rely on friends, beg from friends. I have nowhere to live, it is difficult for me to cope, and I feel vulnerable as I have no security."

Yeukai currently volunteers with various community groups and the Refugee Council, which is offering her what support it can. She remains politically engaged, actively opposing the Mugabe government from within the UK.

Ismail sought refuge in Britain after the Janjaweed militia attacked his village in Darfur. He had been out with his brother shopping in a nearby town and returned home to find the militia had attacked his village and killed his mother. As he and his brother prepared to bury her, some of the militia returned. Ismail's brother argued with them and they shot him dead. Ismail fled.

He came to the UK in May 2004 and claimed asylum. He was sent to live in Halifax in West Yorkshire, but his asylum claim was refused. The Home Office told him it was safe to return to Sudan, his support was terminated and he was made homeless. One day he stood on the edge of a platform at Leeds railway station, planning to throw himself under a train, when a woman took his hand and led him back from the edge of the platform.

He was helped by St Augustine's Community Support and Refugee Action, and is currently training at college on a fabrication and welding course.

He says: "I have been fighting for four years now to be allowed to live here in safety and I think I deserve a chance to live like a normal person. I am a skilled man; I want to be able to work to support myself."