The Debt Advice Diaries

At the end of a phonecall with one of my clients, she asks if she can put her friend on. Let's call her Justine. Justine's not working, is on disability, and has some money problems - we work out it's about £6,000 of debt, mostly made up of Council Tax, water, and credit cards. This is a pretty verbatim transcript. __ Client: I spoke to some insolvency organisation but I'm confused. Adviser: Hmm. Did they talk about your income and your spending? Client: Yeah. They're having some sort of meeting this week. I don't really understand it. Adviser: Did that budget say you've got money left over? Client: Yeah, about £65. Adviser: Does that sound right to you? Client: No, they sort of made it say that. Adviser: Right. This is probably what's called an IVA - you'll probably be expected to make that payment for five years. I don't know for definite until we've talked a bit more, but it's very likely you can get what's called a Debt Relief O

A fairly standard week this week, albeit with the looming horror of 8% inflation and rumours of energy bills going up yet again in October. Debt advice isn't a solution to this. Even if you manage to get a DRO, they'll just build up again - and you'll quite probably have cut off any access to credit that could help keep your priority debts from accruing. And you can't get a DRO for another six years. Anyway. The highlight of the week was finally getting somewhere with one of my most vulnerable clients, by providing Housing Benefit with evidence of her son's receipt of Universal Credit. He'd previously been self-employed, with unfortunately absolutely no proof of his earnings - but at least we can get her Housing Benefit resolved since the point he went onto UC, and staunch the build-up of arrears that's been going on since last April. This client has so far been remote-only due to her health problems, and her mental health has meant gathering the evidence ha

It's sometimes very difficult to remember that success as a debt adviser isn't solely defined by the outcomes you achieve. Those outcomes are, of course, the reason I do the job. The scared and confused woman whose Housing Benefit you get back in payment, along with a DHP towards the arrears. The woman who's been sectioned twice in the last three years you shepherd through bankruptcy. The refugee who's just relieved to know he can't go to prison for falling behind on his water bill. And of course all those cups of coffee. But often - all too often - these things are out of my control. Sometimes, the reason for that is with the client. Not necessarily the fault, but for many things there is a lot of information I need before I can make progress. Reference numbers, documents, evidence of this health condition or that non-dependent's income. And for some clients that's just very hard to find and provide. In other cases, the client's situation is just dire,

I have never been in problem debt. I am white, British, middle class, and healthy. These are advantages I'm very aware of, particularly when, as is true most days, I am working with do not have them. But even so, I sometimes have to stop myself throwing my hands up and shouting, Well why did you do that? This week, I finally see a client I've been trying to arrange an appointment with for a while. Her elderly mother also attends. There's a whole lot of letters (we just want your most recent water bill, not the last three years' worth!), and in amongst them is a letter from her housing provider, dated two weeks ago. It turns out that in January, before she ever contacted us, this client received a Suspended Possession Order (SPO) for rent arrears. And since that SPO, she has made no payments at all. I don't think I physically roll my eyes. I scrap my plans for the appointment and instead we spend most of it talking to the housing provider and setting up a Standing O