It’s time to demolish Grenfell – it breaks my heart every day to see it

The charred remains of the west London tower block in which 72 people died stand as a rebuke to the cost-cutting that contributed to the devastating fire that destroyed it – but, almost eight years on, maintaining the grim landmark has become a hazard to those living nearby, says former Kensington MP Emma Dent Coad

The pain has been almost tangible in Notting Dale, west London, since the fate of Grenfell Tower was announced this week.

Many people – the bereaved, survivors and their families – were shocked at the government’s decision that the charred remains of the tower block should be demolished, almost eight years after the devastating fire that claimed dozens of lives.

I found it less surprising, given the millions of pounds a year – £11m, I think – that are being spent to keep the empty building upright, with regular repairs to the supporting structure.

It shouldn’t be about the money, of course – just as it shouldn’t have been when the decision was made to save £276,000 by installing less expensive insulation and cladding, materials that turned out to be flammable and helped a domestic fire spread rapidly; this decision came before the fire that burned 72 of my friends and neighbours to death on that terrible day, 14 June 2017.

I was on the scene early that morning, and over the day saw things I will never talk about. Some of those things have been wiped by my memory – to protect me, perhaps – and I’m grateful for that small mercy. Any news of the tower – the two inquiry reports, some of the issues that we didn’t know about brought out over the course of hundreds of interviews, the lies, the anniversaries and half-anniversaries – brings us back to that day. Tears, hugs and angry words are exchanged. It’s all too much.

Seven and a half years after the fire, one of the most frustrating elements is the snail’s pace progress of the criminal charges and convictions. Would people feel so strongly about the fate of the tower if we’d had a resolution, some justice?

There are so many opinions raging today: those who see the tower, wrapped in its white tarpaulin, as a memorial; those who see it as a sacred space protecting the essence of their loved ones; and those who see it as a constant rebuke to those responsible.

Then there are those who can’t bear to look at it, it’s literally outside their window when they wake up in the morning, and it’s eroding their physical and mental health. Some have told me they can’t even begin the process of recovery while its presence hangs over the neighbourhood. And throughout all this, the perpetrators are walking free.

It must be said that deputy prime minister Angela Rayner got off to a better start with the community than her predecessors, being more relatable of course, and neither a snob nor racist as the last lot seemed to be. But she may need to work harder on delivering news to severely traumatised people who see the hope of any kind of justice melting into the distance.

In the many interviews and comments I’ve made since the tower’s demolition was announced, I‘ve had to say numerous times: “It’s not about me”. I have deliberately kept away from consultations, seeing my job as a local councillor from “the ward one up” from Notting Dale, and as the constituency’s former MP, as one of strengthening the views and voice of those going through this hell.

I do my best to support our local NHS primary care and mental health facilities, the countless small volunteer groups looking after varying groups with varying degrees of success, and the people who feel abandoned by our wretched and failing council.

If there is no way back on this decision to demolish, I hope we can go forward in good faith to create the best memorial garden, or at least something that will soothe the pain and act as a gentle reminder rather than a smack in the face.

We need justice as soon as possible. We need a whole-hearted acceptance that people are suffering undiagnosed conditions related to the fire and that they have not been believed or treated with respect and kindness, let alone given the medical treatment they require. And we need to have the process of deconstruction explained with patience in a sensitive and non-patronising way.

But speaking personally, I don’t want to see the tower every day. It twists the knife that already lies in my heart and at times triggers flashbacks. I could do without that as a daily reminder, and in my opinion, those who may need its presence as a rebuke have no hearts to break.