Blog: Wrongful conviction is a life sentence

Wrongful conviction is a life sentence, even after you walk out of the prison gates. APPEAL continues to work with prisoners it has represented after their release in their fight to clear their names. But living in the free world with a conviction hanging over your head can leave you vulnerable. Last week one of our clients saw some light at the end of the tunnel – the opportunity to move to a new city and away from oppressive neighbours. But all was not as it seemed: 

“I needed to find a new home. A place that would accept the miniscule amount of housing benefit I am entitled to claim. I didn't want much but I needed to be away from here. I finally found a private landlady who seemed to have a suitable place. We exchanged messages. She insisted that a holding deposit was paid prior to me viewing the flat. I took advice and decided to risk it. I asked for and was sent identity documents and proof of title. 

The coach trip to the viewing was an epic, along the motorways through the torrential rains that were flooding the north of England. It was a journey full of conflicting emotions. Anxiety about returning to a place I haven't lived for many years. Excitement about being able to finally move my life forward; to be able to establish friendships, improve my mental health, recover from over a decade of being wrongly convicted, even begin looking at returning to work. So much depended on that flat being suitable.

In the damp, dark evening I stood outside the address, waiting. Waiting for the landlady who could make some of my dreams come true. A woman who had the power to change my life for the better.

But she did not materialize. And with a sinking feeling I realised I had been scammed. There was no flat. No new start for me. The passport and title deeds that she had emailed me were fake. I had been kicked in the teeth yet again. 

And now I sit here, in a house where I do not feel safe, trying to bring myself to search again for a new beginning. A new home. My motivation is shattered, I cannot concentrate on searching. There ARE one-bedroom flats that meet my practical needs but there are virtually none that will also accept housing benefit. I am lost in a system where housing is scarce, former prisoners are at the bottom of the list and where unscrupulous people can, and do, take advantage.

And I'm just too scared of another kick in the teeth.’

APPEAL and its supporters are committed to covering this prisoner’s moving costs for a van, a deposit and a month’s rent upfront. This moving fund just took a £225 dent thanks to a dishonest landlady – but we advised that the holding deposit be paid and the risk be taken, as the fresh start it could have led to was worth the risk and no alternatives were available. Our search for accommodation continues, but this time through recognised letting agents. This means APPEAL is also now looking for a rent guarantor for this prisoner up to a maximum of the rental contract for the year - which would be £5,400. Letting agents for private landlords now typically require this where prospective tenants are on Housing Benefit, even if, as is the case here, the benefit goes directly to the landlord, because of the slowness of the set-up process with Housing Benefit.

Taking the call from this prisoner, standing outside in the dark waiting for this landlady to show, and realising that this was not going to have a happy ending, brought home to us just how enormous the challenges faced by people released from prison without having yet won their appeals can be – and motivated us, once again, to keep up our fight for justice.