Disabled Londoner with MBE left homeless by his own council
When disability advocate Isaac Harvey needed urgent support, Redbridge Council had nothing to offer but delays, confusion and unsafe options.
When Isaac Harvey was nominated for an MBE, he thought carefully about the award because of the dark history of the British Empire. Ultimately, the disability advocate from East London decided to accept, reasoning it would be “a good reflection on the disability community.”
“This is not just my award, it’s our award,” he adds, crediting the wider disability community and the people who have supported him through his journey. “I couldn’t have done it by myself.”
Isaac has never coveted applause, awards, or even recognition for the tireless advocacy work he does, but being bestowed with one of the highest honours this nation can grant was a moment of pride. After such a high he never expected, just two years later, to find himself homeless and fighting with his local council for months for even basic support.
Isaac was born with a disability called limb-pelvis hypoplasia/aplasia [LPHA], which means he has no arms and short legs. He needs adaptive housing and ongoing care in order to live his life with dignity. At the beginning of 2025, Isaac became effectively homeless after his mother – who was then his primary carer – had to leave the country for three weeks. Despite repeatedly asking Redbridge Council for extra support to cover his needs during his mother’s absence, help was not provided in time.
The advocate he was working alongside at the time sided with the council instead of supporting him, and Isaac’s anxiety built as no concrete support plan was put in place.
“I can’t eat and drink by myself, I can’t prepare food, I can’t go to the bathroom by myself,” Isaac tells The Lead. “Days were passing and they just weren’t getting back to us. I was getting anxious, my mum was getting anxious. We didn’t know what was going to happen.”
When the council finally did respond, their suggestion – of a limited number of daily care visits – was entirely unsuitable and wouldn’t have met Isaac’s basic needs.
“The social worker knew what my needs were – how could they think it was appropriate to say, ‘We’ll start you off with four visits a day’? I need something in place properly, now. You can’t ‘start off’ with that. And what – wait to see if I’m still alive?”
It was only after Isaac took matters into his own hands and shared his situation on social media, days before his mother left, that the council finally agreed to pay for him to stay at a respite centre. But the problems persisted. Redbridge Council insisted on finding Isaac placements within their own network, some of which were wholly inappropriate for his needs. Some places were for people with severe learning disabilities, not those with purely physical disabilities like Isaac.
“I went to one place and the staff said, ‘We have no idea why you’ve been recommended here,’” says Isaac. “It was a health and safety hazard because I couldn’t defend myself if something happened. And it happened twice. By the second time, I thought – how can you keep recommending places like this?”
A deeply broken system
Isaac’s story is not just a personal tragedy, it is emblematic of a systemic crisis – a crisis that spans across housing, accessibility, and the fundamental rights of people with disabilities. A study in 2022 found one in four working-age disabled people say it’s “difficult or very difficult” to get into their own home; 57 per cent struggle to bathe safely. In London, only 3 per cent of newly approved homes meet accessibility standards – and fewer than 1 per cent are designed for full wheelchair use. Another study found that a wheelchair user joining a UK council’s waiting list could face a 47-year wait for a new-build accessible home.
Isaac knows he is far from alone. He has friends who have been waiting years for accessible housing, friends who have been forced to accept homes that are not fully accessible. One friend is living in a care home for the elderly, surrounded by people who are decades older than him.
“Empathy is disappearing,” says Isaac. “It is now just becoming a tick-box exercise. And if you don’t fit the right boxes, then this is what you’re going to get.”
Isaac adds that there is no quick fix, but the system itself is fundamentally broken and needs overhauling from the top-down. Even when finally settled in appropriate temporary accommodation, Isaac’s trouble with the council didn’t end. There was ongoing confusion and delay by the council over who was responsible for Isaac’s rent and how payments would be made. This uncertainty went on for six months, leaving Isaac to “put the pieces together” himself.
“The council’s own inefficiency is what’s killing them at this point,” he says. “All the time wasted was wasting money anyway. Half of this could have been avoided on day one.
“What happened to me showcases that no matter who you might be, no matter how many awards you might have, you’re still harmed by a broken system.”
Another cruel irony for Isaac is his status as Honorary Freeman of the very same council that treated him so poorly: “No amount of achievements, awards, accolades can stop you from feeling the harm.”
A Redbridge Council spokesperson said: “The safety and welfare of our most vulnerable residents remains our top priority. In Mr Harvey’s case, we are continuing to work closely with him to ensure he is supported and directed to the appropriate services, where he can apply for the necessary benefits to cover his housing costs.
“We are aware of the issues relating to payments for Mr Harvey’s accommodation and are actively reviewing the matter. Mr Harvey is being kept informed, and we are working to resolve the issues as swiftly as possible. However, we are unable to comment further while the review is ongoing.”
Disability can happen to anyone
In response to what happened to him, Isaac is using his platform to advocate for proper care plans, real investment in adapted homes, and responsive social work. National regulation is key, with accessible housing made mandatory, and binding targets to ensure new builds genuinely serve disabled people. Building accessible housing must be viewed not simply as a cost, but an investment in inclusion, public health, and human dignity.
“Anyone, at any given time, can gain a disability,” says Isaac. “The decisions made are not just for us – it’s for your family member who will get old, your friend who might have an accident, or the health condition you never imagined you would get.”
“Because it’s not if – it’s when.”
But Isaac’s fight has never been just about himself. His story is a symptom of a broader malaise, a system that routinely fails disabled people – even those who have given so much to their communities, even those with platforms, honours, and solid support systems. But what happens to the thousands who don’t have advocates, who don’t have friends stepping in, or who don’t have the energy after years of waiting?
“I was reminded by one of my friends that I really do need to keep sharing my story,” says Isaac, “because there are so many people out there who don’t have the courage or platform to speak, or who accept the bare minimum and think that’s a lot. We can’t accept it any more.”
We’re pleased to say Isaac moved into permanent housing again just before Christmas. He has a new place in East London to call home and is a 10-minute walk from his family home.
He said: “After all the fighting it has worked out. It took 11 months altogether. I guess I see a lot of silver linings in that I ended up receiving good care from both the respite and temporary accommodation I was placed in.” ■
To highlight the role of respite provision in the care system, Isaac created a film for The Respite Association, a charity that funds respite care for carers as well as a place for them to stay when they need it most. To find out more visit respiteassociation.org/
Director: Rob Sanderson. Producer: Charlie Scannell. Produced by Partizan Films.
About the author: Natalie Morris is our Senior Editor here at The Lead. Elsewhere, she is a freelance writer, author and journalist and host covering social justice, inequality, health and community, writing in the Guardian, the Independent, Metro, Grazia, Stylist, Glamour, Cosmopolitan and more.
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