LIVING IN HOVELS.

Taranaki Daily News, 18 March 1921, Page 5

LIVING IN HOVELS.

WELLINGTON’S HOUSING. INVESTIGATIONS BY AN M.P. Deplorable conditions in regard to housing in Wellington were revealed in a report by Mr. G. Mitchell, M.P., to the Wellington Progress League. Mr. Mitchell, who is secretary of the league, visited some of the crowded areas, in the city. In his report he says:— A friend, who desires to be nameless, accompanied me to most of the houses. The attached report covers some of the houses visited, and if it fails to convince the Government and our people that the bousing conditions are quite as deplorable, in many parts of the city, as they were, and that we as citizens are neglecting a duty towards our less fortunate fellow creatures, let them go and see with their own eyes the conditions which I have quite failed adequately to describe. A neat little child stood at the door of one of the dilapidated houses not far from Courtenay Place, which are, unfortunately, numerous in the city The child’s mother who answered our knock, was, like the child, neatly dressed, clean and tidy, and seemed quite out of place in the worm eaten old cottage which served her and her family as a home. The cottage consisted of two small rooms and a kitchen-scullery which served as a room. It probably cost about £5O to build many years ago. Many of the outside weatherboards had fallen to pieces with borer,

[dry jot, and general decay. Some win* Slows were broken and replaced by *ooards, if replaced at all. “We have lived in this placo about three years,” she said, in to our question, “and 12s a tyeek rent. It used to be 10s, Vtft they put it up» It is too much for this old place. You see, we have to boil our clothes on the range, there is no wash-house or copper, and no bath. Some of the floor boards have gone and the place wants doing up.” She hesitated to answer our question before telling us that she, her husband, and two children, together with another woman and two small children, making three adults and four children, occupied these three tiny rooms. “We have tried to get another home,” ehe said, “but it is no use, for we have children, and no one will let a house where there are children.” The next house visited was of the same type, two small rooms and a scullery, in which four adults lived. Its age and general repair were similar to the one just described, which is typical of the many houses visited. UNFIT FOR HUMAN BEINGS. Down a narrow lane a man and boy occupied a small house which was literally falling to pieces. The outer and inner boarding were quite gone in many places, and nothing but scrim and paper stood between the inmates and the outside world. The windows were broken and mostly covered with boarding. The spouting, the doors, in fact, the house itself, was in the last stage of decay, and was not a fit place in which to house a human being.

We next visited a queer little place in the same lane, where the woman implored me not to say anything about her house in fear that it should be pulled down, and leave them homeless. It is a very small building with low ceilings, dirty black rooms and rotten floors. The glass was gone from the windows, which were nearly all boarded up. At the back the window-casing had gone as well, and some empty fruit cases were built up against the opening to keep the weather out. The place, is shocking, both inside and out. Age and decay had made it unfit for human habitation years ago, yet a man, his wife and child call it home, and for rhe use of this wretched hovel the landlord diligently collects 12s per week. Down another narrow lane we found four adults living in a nome of four small rooms and a scullery. In another of the same size and type a man and wife with three children found a home, for which they paid I2s (id per week. In another house of the universal two rooms and scullery type lived a man, his wife, and child, and an old-age pensioner. The place and people were very clean and tidy, but the ordinary decencies of life cannot be properly observed under such conditions. A PENSIONER’S BURDEN. In another very tiny two-roomed cottage, which seemed as old as the occupant, a lady of about 80 years lived alone. On a table just inside the door the rent-book and the 10s weekly rent awaited the collector. We were invited to examine the book, which showed that she never missed her weekly rent for some years. “Ten shillings is too much for an old woman to pay out of her pension,” she said; “there is not enough left for food these hard times.” “But,” I replied, “you have more than a pension coming in.” “No, that is all, and it is not enough.” As bne looked at the tiny old woman, growing less in stature with each succeeding year, one’s heart swelled, and seemed to lose faith in the charity of mankind. Our reception was somewhat warm at the next place of call, and in a few short, expressive, but certainly not polite sentences, the male member of the household told us what he thought of ourselves, the commercial class, the City Council; the Government, and the Jand-i lord, especially the, landlord. He also told us of his own political beliefs, which did not leave one in any doubt about the fate that should await our ) present Constitution or of the people he condemned. The wife was not less trenchant in her own way, and who would not be if condemned to live in such a hovel? We put our head in a low, dismal kitchen from which the light had been excluded by bags and boards which replaced the glass of the windows. The walls and ceiling were blackened by years of dirt and smoke from a range which the woman said would never go. The floor had gone in places, and was sodgy and wet underneath. We did not visit the other rooms, but could imagine what they would be like in comparison with the kitchen. AN APPALLING CASE. Of the many other places visited, all more or less unfit for human habitation. I will content myself with quoting the final example, probably the worst of the appalling conditions under which some of our fellow-citizens are housed in Wellington to-day. The house is of tour small rooms, two down and two upstairs at the top of a narrow and steep stairway. The r e is no scullery or kitchen. The two small downstairs rooms are used as living room, kitchen, and bedrqom combined. They were almost filled with a large bed and a few furnishings. The walls and ceilings were black with age ant decay. In the upstairs rooms a bed in each case was the sole furniture, and no covering on the floor. There were no doors to the rooms, and the scrim and paper had come away from the ceiling and hung down over the bed on which the children slept. In this four-roomed hovel, four adults and seven children lived. One half was occupied by a man, wife, and four children; the other half by a man, wife, and three children. Outside a dilapidated lean-to, with a copper in the corner, served (for a wash-house. There was no tub, and the dirty water welled up from under the floor. * The lavatory was in a semi-open closet without a door. The outer walls of the house, like most of the other houses described, were falling to pieces with borer, dry rot, and general decay. Three bright little children rung around the mother’s skirt and looked appealingly at me as she told her story and pleaded for help in obtaining a better *home, and I came away feeling 4iow utterly we are failing in our duty when we condemn human beings to live in such places, and allow rent to be collected from them.