When the house was being painted for my First Holy Communion, my Mum asked the painter what he thought the hairline cracks all over the house were. He said he had seen them on loads of houses that he’d painted at that time, but had no clue what was causing it.  

By July 2016 we knew our neighbours had a problem with their house and the word MICA was everywhere. By 2019 an engineer was at our property carrying out a visual inspection. My family were one of the first to get a proper diagnosis for our house. Initially, we were told that it would just be an outer leaf removal and that it would take a few months for it to be sorted. After further tests and investigation, we were told that the house was beyond repair and needed to be demolished.

At the time aged sixteen, I didn’t understand the severity of the situation. If only I had known then, what I had yet to experience. I talk to my friends and extended family about my house needing to be demolished and how upsetting it was for me, but no one understood. They would say things like “it’s just a house” “sure it’s only bricks and mortar”. I would second guess myself and ask myself if it was as big of a deal as I thought it was. 

Looking back now, it is one of the most difficult things that I have gone through. We were one of the only families that knew the outcome of our testing and one of the only ones that knew we had it. There was a massive stigma around it at the time and it was nearly shameful to say that you were an affected homeowner. 

Finding out that the home, that you’ve lived in your entire life, needs to be demolished is devastating.  This was the house that my parents built from love, hard work, and determination. People have said to me, 

“But sure, isn’t it great that you get to demolish, start again and build your dream home?”

No, it isn’t. This was their dream home. It is not a blessing in disguise.

Life turned around completely after we found out the house was defective. I think the main reason that I find this so upsetting is because I know what I have lost. I grew up a very happy child. I had parents who loved me and cared for me, a brother and loads of cousins to play outside with for hours, a beautiful garden, my own bedroom, a playroom. We had family birthdays and barbecues out on the back patio with extended family and spent Christmas together in our living room. My Dad lit fires on cold nights, my Mum sang in the kitchen while cooking dinner. We danced on Sunday mornings to Bruce Springsteen and Mike and the Mechanics. There was plenty of laughter, and we were happy. The memories I have in my childhood home are priceless. I know how good we had it together in our home and that is what makes the loss so devastating.

I saw first hand how stressful that this was for my parents both financially and mentally. I worried so much about my parents. They were constantly stressed and tense and seeing this was hard. I was also doing the Leaving Cert and navigating a global pandemic. I spent lots of time worrying about getting into college, so my health suffered. 

In November 2023, our house was demolished. This was a very emotional time for my family. After so many years of waiting and worrying, the house was gone. Looking down from the top of the road at the site with no house was scary. 

Now halfway through 2024, I am still not in my home. My family moved out of our house when I had just finished my Leaving Cert at aged 18. I am now 21 and have graduated in Film Studies and Production from Queen's University Belfast. We still haven't moved back in. Hopefully by Christmas 2024, we will be in a space to move back in, however judging by how this process has been so far, it will be the New Year.

Obviously, I am excited to have a new house and of course it will be better in the long run.  This doesn't take away from the fact that this happened and continues to happen to my community, and is still a burden on so many.