The soul's been ripped out of it and we have no control
In Stirchley, a neighbourhood in south-west Birmingham where a community once dared to build something beyond the reach of landlords, a decade of collective effort now hangs in the balance. The Stirchley Cooperative Development — 39 homes designed to be owned and governed by the people living in them — has stalled after the housing association holding the land demanded an additional £1.16 million to cover cost overruns it attributes to inflation and construction difficulties, but which residents believe reflect institutional mismanagement. Six people are now homeless, livelihoods are unravelling, and a project that was meant to demonstrate the viability of community-owned housing has instead surfaced a deeper question: what becomes of collective ambition when the institutions entrusted to support it turn away?
- A £1.16 million shortfall declared by GreenSquareAccord in March has frozen the development entirely, leaving six prospective residents without homes and businesses on the edge of collapse.
- John Holmes, eighty years old and now sleeping in borrowed rooms, and Rachel Kershaw, whose nine bakery staff have had wages cut since February, put a human face on what institutional failure looks like at street level.
- The community and GSA are locked in a dispute over who bears responsibility — residents insist the overruns stem from GSA's own mismanagement after it took over construction in 2024; GSA insists absorbing the costs would be irresponsible to its wider tenant base.
- Political pressure is mounting, with the West Midlands mayor and the local Labour MP both writing to GSA demanding it honour its commitments to the community.
- Residents are now attempting to bridge the funding gap themselves through non-equity, non-transferable bonds — a last effort to rescue a project that was supposed to be a national model for cooperative living.
In 2016, residents and business owners in Stirchley, south-west Birmingham, founded the Stirchley Cooperative Development with a clear ambition: 39 homes, community-owned and democratically managed, free from landlords. The land was held by housing association GreenSquareAccord, which was to transfer ownership once construction was complete. The project was due to finish by 2024 and was widely regarded as a potential model for the country.
Then the original contractor went bust. GSA stepped in to manage construction in 2024, and costs began to climb. In March of this year, GSA announced it would not transfer the development to the community unless residents covered a £1.16 million shortfall — the result, it said, of inflation, interest payments, and construction difficulties. The community accused GSA of mismanagement and of asking residents to pay for failures that were not their own.
The human cost has been immediate. John Holmes, eighty, a retired lecturer who had believed in the project's vision of communal living, is now homeless, moving between friends' and family's spare rooms. Five others share his situation. Sean Farmelo, who had planned to run his Birmingham Bike Foundry cooperative from a ground-floor unit, watched the project he had invested in deteriorate. Rachel Kershaw, co-director of the local bakery Loaf, has been forced to cut the wages of her nine staff since February, keeping the business alive only through pop-up events. "It just feels like the soul's been ripped out of it," she said.
The dispute has reached politicians. The West Midlands mayor Richard Parker and Labour MP Al Carns have both written to GSA urging it to honour its commitments. GSA, meanwhile, maintains that absorbing the shortfall would be irresponsible to its broader customer base and that it seeks only to recover costs, not profit.
The community is now attempting to raise the missing funds through bonds, trying to save what a decade of effort built. Whether they will succeed remains uncertain. What is already clear is that a project designed to show how community-owned housing could work has instead become a warning about what happens when a publicly funded institution walks away from its word.
In 2016, a group of residents and business owners in Stirchley, a neighbourhood in south-west Birmingham where rents and house prices were climbing steadily, decided to build something together. They founded the Stirchley Cooperative Development with a straightforward vision: create 39 homes that would be owned and controlled by the people living in them, free from landlords, managed democratically by the community itself. It was meant to be finished by 2024. It was meant to be a model for the rest of the country.
The land was owned by GreenSquareAccord, a housing association. The plan was simple enough. GSA would hold the land while construction happened. Once the building was complete, GSA would transfer ownership to the residents. Everyone understood the terms. The community negotiated hard to make the purchase work. Then, in 2024, the original contractor went bust. GSA stepped in to take over construction responsibilities. Delays began to pile up. Costs began to climb.
In March of this year, GSA announced it would no longer hand over the development to the community. The reason: a £1.16 million shortfall. The housing association said construction costs had risen due to interest payments, inflation, and problems during building. The community said GSA had mismanaged the project and was now trying to make residents pay for its own failures. Either way, the development froze. People who had spent years planning their homes, their businesses, their lives in this place, suddenly had nowhere to go.
John Holmes is eighty years old, a retired lecturer who had been drawn to the project because of his background in youth work and his belief in communal living. He is now homeless, sleeping in friends' and family members' spare rooms. "We were trying to make a difference and develop something for ourselves," he said. "We're still waiting, with no certainty that it's going to go ahead." Six residents in total have become homeless. Sean Farmelo, thirty-four, had planned to run his Birmingham Bike Foundry cooperative from a commercial unit on the ground floor. He watched the delays stretch on, the costs multiply, and saw the project he had invested in begin to crumble. "The community is being forced to pay for construction problems that they have had," he said of GSA. "Any offer that we've given them is way above market value already, and they're still trying to get extra money for construction delays that are caused by their own mismanagement."
Rachel Kershaw, thirty-seven, is co-director of Loaf, a local bakery that had hoped to move into the development. Since February, she has had to cut the wages of her nine staff members. The business survives only because of regular pop-up events. "It's been exceptionally soul-destroying," she said. "A lot of work has gone into this in the background of making this a community-based development, and now it just feels like the soul's been ripped out of it and we have no control." The delays and cost overruns have left residents and business owners convinced that GSA cannot be trusted to keep its word.
The dispute has drawn attention from political figures. Richard Parker, the West Midlands mayor, and Al Carns, the Labour MP for Birmingham Selly Oak, have both written to GSA demanding urgent action. Parker said the housing association was tearing apart a project that had taken years to build. Carns called the situation disappointing and promised to keep pushing for the project to return to community control. GSA, for its part, said it would be irresponsible to absorb the shortfall, which it argued would compromise investment in homes and services for its other customers. The housing association insisted it was seeking only to cover costs, not generate profit.
Now the community is trying to save what it built. Residents are seeking loans through non-equity and non-transferable bonds, attempting to bridge the funding gap themselves. Whether they can raise enough money, whether GSA will negotiate, whether the project can be salvaged at all, remains uncertain. What is certain is that the landmark development that was supposed to show the country how community-owned housing could work has instead become a cautionary tale about what happens when a large institution with public funding walks away from its commitments.
Citas Notables
We were trying to make a difference and develop something for ourselves. We're still waiting, with no certainty that it's going to go ahead.— John Holmes, 80-year-old prospective resident
It's not acceptable for a large housing provider to walk away from its commitments because it failed to manage the costs and budgets of a project it was responsible for, then expect a small community organisation to carry the consequences.— Richard Parker, West Midlands mayor
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did GSA take over construction in the first place? Couldn't the community have found another contractor?
The original contractor went bust. GSA owned the land, so it made sense for them to step in and finish the job. The problem wasn't the decision itself—it was what happened after. Costs started rising, delays piled up, and then GSA decided it didn't want to hand over the finished building anymore.
But GSA says it's not making a profit. It's just trying to cover costs. Doesn't that seem reasonable?
It would be, except GSA is a housing association that receives public money. They made a commitment to the community. When they took over construction, they took on the responsibility to manage those costs properly. Instead, they let them spiral and now they're asking the community to pay for their mismanagement.
What does it actually mean for someone like John Holmes to be homeless in this situation? He's eighty years old.
He gave up his previous housing arrangements because he was supposed to move into the development. He made plans around that promise. When the project froze, he had nowhere to go. He's sleeping on friends' couches. That's the human cost of a broken commitment.
The bakery owner cut her staff's wages. How does that happen?
The delays meant the bakery couldn't move into its planned space. So it's operating out of temporary pop-ups, making less money, unable to pay her nine employees what they were earning. She's keeping the business alive, but barely. That's what cost overruns do to small businesses that don't have reserves.
Is there any path forward here?
The community is trying to raise money through bonds to cover the shortfall themselves. But they're also asking GSA to negotiate, to acknowledge its role in the cost overruns. The mayor and the local MP are backing them. Whether GSA will budge is the real question.