LOCKED OUT: How housing systems are failing survivors of domestic violence
- fraserm81
- Aug 13
- 6 min read
Lily Soaper, recipient of Commonweal’s Jane Slowey Memorial Bursary for 2024/2025, shared a detailed analysis of her research conducted as part of her undergraduate dissertation in Social Policy at the University of Birmingham.
My research explored the structural, policy and resource-related barriers preventing survivors of domestic abuse from accessing safe, long-term housing. I examined how these challenges affect both the support services and recovery journeys.
Supported through the Jane Slowey Memorial Bursary from Commonweal Housing, the project involved 27 hours of observation at a Birmingham-based refuge and nine interviews with refuge staff, local authority representatives, and a domestic abuse survivor.
Sadly, many survivors are not given the support they need. As documented in one of my interviews, one woman, who arrived in this country on a student visa, found herself completely alone, and was subjected to domestic violence. When she fell pregnant from her abuser, her family cut off all contact with her. With no income and no legal status, she turned to a local refuge for help. The staff took her in, knowing that as she had No Recourse to Public Funds (NRPF), her stay would not be reimbursed by housing benefit.
When the refuge staff approached social services to explore longer-term options, they felt that the woman was pressured to move back in with the baby’s father – despite social services being made aware of the domestic violence risk. This was due to the local authority’s financial situation. Since then, she has remained in that house, still undocumented, still with her children and still under surveillance. The refuge worker who stayed in contact with her told me that social services are aware of the situation. But nothing has changed.
Even where survivors do manage to access housing, I found that the conditions often raise serious concerns. Frontline staff described properties as “falling apart,” “rat-infested,” and “not fit to live in.” One support worker said bluntly, “I wouldn’t even put my dog in them.” Reports of mould, broken fixtures and general disrepair are common, pointing to systemic issues that compromise survivor safety and dignity. As one worker explained, “People say they might as well have stayed with their abuser because of how bad the accommodation is.”
These experiences are far from isolated, reflecting recurring patterns described by frontline workers in my interviews and documented in existing research. While local authorities have a duty to grant domestic violence survivors ‘Band A’ priority (a category intended for those with the most urgent housing needs), this designation offers little protection against delay in practice. As one domestic violence support worker reflected, “When I first started, six months in refuge felt like a long time. Now? It’s over two years.”
My research uncovered that delays in accessing housing are also driven by deeper structural issues: repeated eligibility checks, inconsistent communication between agencies, and severe shortages in available housing. These issues are not wholly the fault of local authorities like Birmingham, where I conducted my study, but have been compounded by specific policy decisions. Policies such as Right to Buy, coupled cuts fuelled by austerity have eroded the UK’s social housing stock.
One council representative explained, “We lose houses every week, and we can’t build them fast enough.” In Birmingham alone, over 24,000 households remain on waiting lists, while just 2,847 homes were allocated last year. Being categorised as ‘high priority’ means little in a system fundamentally unable to meet demand.
The resulting bottleneck turns refuges, intended as short-term safety nets, into indefinite holding spaces. For survivors, this means prolonged uncertainty and emotional exhaustion, feeling trapped in the system. For refuges, this creates unsustainable financial strain as they absorb costs without adequate funding.
Between 2010 and 2012, 31% of funding to violence against women and girls (VAWG) services from local authorities was cut. Furthermore, 70% of smaller organisations lost funding compared to 29% of their larger counterparts. Recent reports by Women's Aid show these funding challenges persist, intensified by competitive contracting that further disadvantages smaller refuges. As a result, refuges are frequently forced to turn away women in urgent need due to extended wait times and severely limited capacity.
Trapped in Transition: The Human Cost of Housing Delays
The emotional toll of prolonged housing instability emerged as a consistent theme across both interviews and observations during my research. While policy tends to frame housing as a logistical challenge, support workers spoke about the very real psychological strain placed on survivors who remain in temporary accommodation far longer than expected. One explained that, after several months in refuge, women often began to disengage from services entirely, not because they didn’t need help, but because they had lost confidence in the system. This shift was most visible around the eight- to nine-month mark, when women would ask: “Why am I still here?”.
In many cases, survivors felt they had no real choice in the process. To manage long housing wait times, Birmingham City Council implemented a ‘two-offer’ rule, which removes applicants from the housing register after a second refusal. Several support workers described women reluctantly agreeing to housing that was unsuitable and unsafe simply to avoid being penalised. These policies, while designed to manage limited housing stock, risk echoing the dynamics of control and disempowerment that survivors are trying to escape.
My research also identifies how Housing Benefit regulations impact survivors. Under the rules, one cannot receive Housing Benefit for two homes, except in limited circumstances, such as when someone is fleeing domestic violence intends to return to their previous home. However, when someone moves from a refuge to social housing, their entitlement to Housing Benefit for the refuge must end. They must claim Housing Benefit (or housing costs through Universal Credit) for the new accommodation. One staff member explained, “It can cost us £330 per week per room, and if a woman's transition takes two to three weeks, that adds up to nearly £1,000.” This lack of flexibility not only financially strains refuges but forces survivors into rushed and isolated moves, intensifying their emotional distress.
Survivors with NRPF status face even graver uncertainties. Their access to support is contingent upon discretionary decisions and charity intervention. Frontline workers highlighted the precarity: “We can’t afford to house or support more than one or two women with NRPF because we'd lose too much money; we’d essentially be operating at a loss.” The absence of dedicated national funding for NRPF survivors exacerbates their vulnerability, reinforcing isolation and instability.
Policy Priorities: From Survival to Stability
The stories shared in this research reveal entrenched issues that require immediate policy intervention. Central among these is the urgent need for reforming Housing Benefit regulations, which currently prevent overlap in payments between refuge accommodation and permanent housing.
Introducing a short grace period would offer survivors critical breathing space during transitions, ensuring that they move safely and with adequate support rather than under rushed conditions.
Equally pressing is the creation of a national, dedicated funding mechanism for survivors with NRPF. As evidenced, the current reliance on charities and discretionary support creates dangerous uncertainty and inequality, leaving many survivors vulnerable and dependent on chance. Establishing clear national funding pathways would eliminate postcode lotteries and provide consistent, secure support for survivors irrespective of their immigration status.
Finally, safeguarding continuity for survivors moving between local authorities is essential. Current gaps in multi-agency responses often mean a loss of support during relocations, exposing survivors to renewed risks. As such, a robust, cross-county referral and safeguarding system is necessary to ensure continuous protection.
These policy recommendations from my study are grounded in the realities faced daily by survivors and the staff supporting them. They represent tangible, achievable steps toward a system that prioritises survivor dignity, safety, and long-term stability, transforming housing from merely shelter into a foundation for true recovery and empowerment.
Titled Locked Out: A Socioecological Analysis of Systemic Housing Barriers for Domestic Violence Survivors, my research received a mark of 84. My research used and adapted Bronfenbrenner’s ecological systems theory to explore how housing challenges for survivors are shaped across different structural and institutional levels. While the dissertation itself is not publicly available, I’m always happy to discuss the research further or connect with others working in this space.
Lily Soaper, BA Social Policy Graduate, University of Birmingham | LinkedIn | LXS105@alumni.bham.ac.uk






