There are people in Hemel Hempstead who live in constant fear; people who are too scared to leave their homes, or who fear for their children’s safety. Those people are not statistics, they are not numbers; these are their lives.
I wish to tell the House about someone called Tom—I have changed names and places for people’s safety. Tom served in the emergency services for 20 years, putting his life on the line for others. He served our community and kept us safe, yet now he is the one who lives in fear. Tom, who lives with his wife and four children, told me that he lives near a house that is used for drug dealing. Over 90 separate drug deals have been reported to the police and, thanks to his diligence, that is backed by hundreds of hours of CCTV footage and photos.
Drug dealing is a serious crime, but in its wake comes a wave of other antisocial behaviour, with the constant, endless noise of people coming and going at all hours, the slamming of doors, shouting, scaring children, motorbikes flying up and down the road, and the incessant smell of noxious drugs. Needles and paraphernalia lie strewn around the area that Tom is proud of—the area he protected for 20 years. Is that what Tom deserves, after protecting our community for so long?
Tom is not alone. Let me tell the House a story about Cassy—again, not her real name. Cassy has an eight-year-old son. He likes maths, football and playing outside. In recent months, however, he has been too scared to play outside, and even if he wasn’t, other children have also stopped venturing outdoors. Why is that? Because the communal garden where he once played his favourite sport lies littered with dog poo. People have tried to clean it up, but large, aggressive dogs let loose act as a deterrent to any community-minded people. The green space, once a makeshift football pitch, has turned into a place for people to smoke drugs, play loud music at all hours of the day, and shout abuse at any passerby. Cassy’s son, at just eight years old, lives in fear. Due to the ongoing stress, Cassy is on antidepressants and her husband Gary is in therapy. Their son is so fearful that he cannot sleep alone, scared that the thugs outside will make their way into their home.
It is not just drugs and aggressive behaviour, because another constituent at one of my surgeries, Maria, told me of her case. She and her partner, child and neighbours have been dealing with an abusive, unsafe and disruptive resident since June 2023, who has been letting intoxicated people into their building and threatening violence. Rubbish is piled high and attracting rodents, with smashed windows and alleged arson—those are just some of the things that Maria and her family have had deal with.
When considering Tom, Cassy, Gary and Maria, and the other 55 constituents who have written to me about this, as well as the others who are too scared to report their cases to me at all, there is a theme, but antisocial behaviour sits in a grey area. The hard-working police are often not resourced. The council often relays that it is a police matter, and housing associations are often limited in how they respond. Meanwhile, residents suffer.