Experiencing homelessness as a teenager was completely out of Kwajo Tweneboa’s control. But after finally getting social housing that his family so vitally needed, his family were let down once again. The place they had hoped to call home was full of mice, cockroaches, covered in damp and mould. Sadly, these were the living conditions in which Tweneboa lost his father to cancer in 2020, and this was the catalyst which forced him to act.

Taking to social media in 2020, he uploaded photos and videos of his living conditions, tagging the housing association responsible for his estate. But he didn’t stop there, door knocking on neighbours and shining a light on their issues too. He revealed a hidden crisis, but one that is making thousands of people’s lives misery – one which landlords and housing associations would much rather have stayed hidden. But from the highest private rents on record in the UK to a record number of children impacted by homelessness with around 82,000 in London alone, it’s clear something’s got to give.

Over the past four years, he’s travelled from London to Glasgow, Manchester, Leeds and beyond to document other the appalling living conditions in rented accommodation. In his fight for better housing for all of us, he has advised the government, been nominated for an MBE, worked on social housing regulation, and spoken to countless people across the country on the sharp end of the housing crisis – from Grenfell survivors to the parents of two-year-old Awaab Ishak. Our Country in Crisis is a powerful debut non-fiction book from the UK’s most dedicated housing activist, which calls on readers to assert our housing rights and reimagine what’s possible.

Here, we speak to Tweneboa about his activism journey, what the Labour government needs to do to tackle the housing crisis and how we can hold politicians to account.

Many people will now know you as ‘the landlord’s landlord’. How did you get into housing activism and campaigning, and what motivated you to do so?

Kwajo Tweneboa: It was my own personal story. I had reached my limit of being sick and tired. I had lived experience with my family in social housing – slum conditions is the only way that I can describe it: cockroaches, mice, damp, mould, a bathroom that was nearly 100 years old, a kitchen that was falling into absolute bits… Before that in my teenage years in school, I had experienced homelessness. When we finally did get social housing, it was in an absolute state, but we were so glad to have somewhere that we could call home – even though it wasn’t somewhere that I considered ‘home’ because of its condition.

Then my dad was diagnosed with stage one esophageal cancer, which is a very hard cancer to treat. It progressed really quickly. For a year, he was fed through his stomach three times a day by district nurses in those conditions. But under no circumstances should anyone – whether you’re able-bodied or not – have to live in those conditions. The fact that someone with cancer was subject to those conditions was beyond appalling.

For a very long time I blamed myself for not being able to take him out of that situation. I speak about it in my book: I talk about how I’m able to go around the country and take others out of those situations and conditions, but for the most important person [in my life] I wasn’t able to do that. He passed away in January 2020 and on the day of his funeral in February, our ceiling caved in, and no one came out to look at it until October of that year. Even during that time, before they had come out to look at the conditions we were living in, they tried to evict me and my family during the pandemic. They were more concerned with giving us an eviction notice than actually dealing with the slum conditions we were having to live in, even after my dad passed away. 

They turned around a statement which said ‘we’re sorry that Kwajo feels he and his family didn’t receive the service that they deserved’. At that point, I was very, very depressed – even suicidal – and I thought to myself: either this is it, or I try to fight this somehow. So I decided to take pictures and videos and uploaded them to social media. It went viral and ITV News came down. It wasn’t just pictures of my home either, I went around my whole estate and knocked on everyone’s door. The rest was history. I knew at that point the only thing I could do was try to be a massive pain in the arse [for landlords], a massive thorn in their sides.

You’ve basically become the people’s Prime Minister.

Kwajo Tweneboa: It does feel like I’ve become the people’s MP. I’ve had so much support from people just on the street. Even the other day someone stopped me and said, ‘it’s really good to meet you, you helped my mum’. There’s so many situations where that has happened and that’s what means the most. That impact that it’s had with real people who have been struggling for years, that’s what keeps me going, that is the satisfaction I get. I mentioned with my dad’s story: I wasn’t able to help him, so being able to go out there and help others shows that it’s been worthwhile. I hope it goes on to change the lives of so many up and down the country, and then I’ll know I’ve done my job.

Speaking of Prime Ministers, a new Labour government under Keir Starmer has just come into power. What do you want to see from them?

Kwajo Tweneboa: I want to see action, not just talk. I want them to admit where the problems are, and make it clear that they are going to fix it, and fix it in the right ways. Not worrying about their electorate and what’s going to win them the next election in five years’ time, but making an impact on the lives of ordinary individuals. I’m talking about working-class individuals who are at the heart of this crisis. People in social housing; those that are homeless; the 145,000 homeless kids; the 1.3 million on social housing waiting lists; those that are being subjected to slum conditions for many, many years; those that have had their physical and mental health put at risk because of the conditions that they’re living in; those that are asking for a decent, safe and affordable home to live in. It’s not a lot that they’re asking for – it’s a human right. 

I also want them to look at the private sector too. Those that can’t even think about the idea of maybe one day owning their own home, who are just worried about paying their landlord at the end of the month. I want the government to deliver for them and acknowledge their reality – but not just acknowledge it, I want them to implement real changes that are going to fix the heart of this housing crisis.

It starts with social housing. It starts with addressing the state of our private rental sector at the moment. That is what I’m asking them to fix. Now we have Angela Rayner, someone from a working-class background, someone that has lived in social housing, [as the Secretary of State for housing] – it would be the icing on the cake if she was able to deliver what so many people have been begging for for such a long time. If she does, that would be huge for ordinary individuals, people from working-class backgrounds. But the question is whether there is enough political will to fix the right areas by the Labour leadership.

“I want to see action, not just talk. I want them to admit where the problems are, and make it clear that they are going to fix it, and fix it in the right ways”

In the book you dedicate a chapter to the tragedy of Grenfell Tower and the 72 lives lost in 2017. What were the lessons that should have been learnt by decision makers after Grenfell?

Kwajo Tweneboa: The lesson they should have learnt is that people’s lives shouldn’t be treated as a game of chess, where profit is put before the lives of ordinary individuals. Working-class people, especially in social housing, have been treated with such contempt and their complaints ignored, which led to the biggest disaster in housing history. That could have been avoided had politicians listened to them – and there were multiple opportunities for that to happen – yet they failed to. This ultimately resulted in the deaths of 72 innocent individuals. Now seven years on, people are still complaining about the same things, having their lives put at risk, and in the worst instances continuing to die in places that they should be able to call home. That is the lesson that they should have learnt and up until now, they’ve fundamentally failed.

Every politician says they go into politics to change the lives of ordinary individuals for the better, and that hasn’t happened. Now is their opportunity to prove that, but it’s about whether or not there is the political will behind it. I hope they prove themselves, I really do,  because I’m speaking to the people that are genuinely suffering at the grassroots level and seeing the misery they’re going through. Every single Conservative MP that was in power for 14 years that oversaw all of these issues and allowed it to continue and failed to do anything about it should be absolutely ashamed and disgraced for the roles that they have played in this.

What do you want every reader to take away from Our Country In Crisis?

Kwajo Tweneboa: Never be ashamed to share your experiences, because that is how conversations are started. That is how movements are started. Your voices matter as much as anyone else. Whenever you think of politics, think of housing and whether or not it’s improved. Think of how much you’re having to pay your landlord, think of whether or not you’re living in a place filled with damp and mould, whether or not you’re struggling – and that will be an indicator of whether or not our government has delivered for us. Don’t just accept what they say and think, ‘Oh, we’re gonna have to accept it because they’re our government.’ There is always a choice and they’re public servants, they serve us and our needs. That’s what people need to remember.

Our Country in Crisis is published by Trapeze on July 18.

More on these topics:Life & CultureQ+ABooksHousingKwajo Tweneboa