Feature: Unemployment on Grimsby's East Marsh

IT'S 10.30am on a grey and chilly weekday morning and Freeman Street is looking even more desolate than normal.

Without the buzz of market day the street's shortcomings are thrown into even sharper focus – as long lines of shop shutters stare out onto the deserted pavements opposite.

There is at least one business, however, that appears to be doing a roaring trade. The Corporation Arms, on the corner of Nelson Street, is already filling up quite nicely.

Given the time of day, it would be easy to assume that most of those inside do not work for a living.

But the man smoking a cigarette outside does.

Aged around late 40s, he has just clocked off from his shift at Aquila Processing on the North Wall of Grimsby Docks.

But as I prepare to ask him what he as a working man feels about more than half of his fellow East Marsh residents claiming out-of-work benefits, he reveals that he actually lives on the Willows estate.

In fact, it turns out very few of his colleagues actually live in the East Marsh.

"Most of them live in Waltham," he says.

Also popping out for a cigarette is 46-year-old Wayne Lane. He does live in the neighbourhood, in one of the high-rise tower blocks nearby.

Having previously lived in Scartho, Wayne describes the East Marsh as "a different way of life".

He estimates that about three-quarters of fellow regulars at the Corporation Arms are, like him, out of work.

Due to a heart condition and mental health problems, the former factory worker hasn't had a job for about 15 years.

He receives incapacity benefit, which he says leaves him with a little bit of disposable income at the end of the week.

And although he accepts that "there are people worse-off than me", he insists he would be better off working.

"It is not good money, whether you are disabled or not.

"I have been refused disability allowance four times and things are far worse today than they were five years ago. They are definitely cutting back on support for mentally-ill people, which is not good."

Walking over the zebra crossing to the other side of Freeman Street, I approach a grey-haired man, aged in his early sixties, striding briskly along the pavement with a white carrier bag in his hand.

When told about the East Marsh's high proportion of benefit claimants, he remarks: "I'm not surprised. It's because of all the foreigners."

When asked if he worked, he replies: "I'm too old to work. I'm retired," before continuing on his way.

Walking further up the street, close to the Post Office, is 42-year-old Barry Newbold, of Comber Place.

Asked what he thinks of his neighbourhood being labelled a "benefit ghetto", he says: "I don't think that's a fair reflection."

An epilepsy sufferer who lost his last job at a sandwich factory when a seizure resulted in him falling onto the production line, he becomes visibly upset, almost tearful, when describing the reaction that he gets when he tells people he is on benefits.

"People just look at you differently, and wonder why you don't go out and get a job, but when you have got epilepsy, a lot of employers don't want to take a risk.

"I suppose there are some people who don't want to work, and if you have been on bene- fits for a long time it might become a habit.

"I would love to get a job. It's just finding an employer that will take me on."

Barry, who was working as a window cleaner when he first started having seizures in 2006, says he has also felt the impact of the Government's "clampdown" on benefits.

He was receiving Disability Living Allowance until two years ago when he went to see a doctor for a check-up.

"He turned round and said that because I could stand up and turn round in a chair they were stopping my disability allowance."

Because of that, Barry lost £250 of his monthly income. Now he gets by on his fortnightly Job Seeker's Allowance of £180.

He says that if he wasn't staying at his mum's house, making ends meet would be a real struggle.

"JSA is not a lot, especially if you are looking after your own property. There aren't a lot of jobs out there at the moment and because of my epilepsy I'm very limited as to what I can do."

Walking back south down Freeman Street towards the market, I notice the crowd of smokers gathered outside the Corporation Arms has now swelled to four.

It is around 11am now and there are a few more people about.

However, 42-year-old Deborah Westhead cuts a lonely figure as she stands against the market hall shutters.

She is waiting to meet a friend when I approach and ask her what she thinks about the East Marsh's high unemployment rate.

"It doesn't surprise me. There are no shops open," she declares, glancing at the row of empty retail units nearby.

Deborah, of Cleethorpe Road, has been out of work for the past 20 years, mainly because she was bringing up her children, but she insists: "I'm one of those that wants a job."

She tells me that her Job Seeker's Allowance has been "sanctioned" – in other words stopped – because the Jobcentre doesn't think she has applied for enough jobs.

She pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket, on which she has written the names of the employers she has applied to.

"You have got to put 16 down a fortnight. I have applied for 12 but I haven't got any letters back and they think I haven't been looking."

Deborah is remarkably upbeat as she explains how she will not be able to claim JSA again until June 27, and is instead having to get by on a weekly £43 hardship payment.

"It's difficult and I have to borrow money from my mate for gas and electric."

She scoffs at the suggestion that the benefits system is too generous.

"No it's not. I got £142 a fortnight in Job Seeker's Allowance. If I got a job I would be a lot better off."

Deborah did a four-week voluntary placement at the Grimsby and District Healthcare Charity Shop on Freeman Street to give her the experience to help her get back into work.

"I'm looking for anything. Factory work, cleaning, anything. But there's not much out there at the moment."