An answer for everything

You have a problem, but you don't know where to start looking for help.The 85 Citizens Information Centres provide free information on all your rights and allowances. Maybe you've never heard of them, but they might have the answer you're looking for, writes Rosita Boland

Information is a tool. It's finding out the information that's often the hard bit. Comhairle is the national network responsible for providing information, advice and advocacy on social services. Under its umbrella are Citizens Information Centres (CICs). There are 85 CICs throughout the Republic, where you can walk in and - free of charge - ask questions on all aspects of social services, but, as Michael Caine once said, not many people know that.

Last year, the CICs processed almost 400,000 inquiries from the public, up from 313,000 in 2000. And this had grown from 115,000 queries in 1996.

The majority relate to social welfare matters. The rise in the number of people accessing the CICs can be read in two ways: either more people are finding out about an information service or, far from becoming more user-friendly, social services require further explanation.

The CIC on Sundrive Road, in Crumlin, has been in existence, in one form or another, since the mid-1970s, when it was staffed entirely by volunteers. In 1993, it was officially opened by Mary Robinson, then president, and now has a paid staff of five.

"This is a key centre; it's one of the busiest in Dublin," explains Anne McCloskey, development manager at the Sundrive Road centre. She is aware, however, that some members of the public still don't know of the existence of CICs.

"I'm still amazed at the number of people I come across who ask me what my job is and say they've never heard of a CIC. In Britain, the Citizens Advice Bureaus have a much bigger profile among the public."

McCloskey also says the arrival of CICs has taken a lot of the pressure off local clinics held by politicians.

Given that every day brings different queries, what goes on during a typical morning in a CIC?

On the particular mid-week morning I visited, things were going full pelt. Information officer Julie Wray had been checking the daily media service they receive, which keeps them up to date on all the latest social welfare news. They had already had several telephone queries and personal callers.

Housing and employment rights are the two biggest ongoing issues. People often make an initial phone call and then drop in to follow up their query in more detail, or to have an information officer check forms before they send them off to social welfare departments. More women than men access the service.

The morning I was there, information officer Carole Dowling had helped a client fill out an E1-11 form for health insurance abroad; fielded several requests for a new booklet just published by Cherish, for single-parent families; advised an elderly woman with a disabled son how to go about applying for a grant to put in a downstairs toilet, and helped her fill out the forms.

The queries are shared out among the staff. There are two interview rooms in Crumlin's bright, sunny, and carefully-kept offices, where clients can talk to officers in private, and privacy is essential, since many of the queries are very personal.

The morning I visited, a woman whose marriage had broken down had come in to ask advice on selling the family home. Her ex-husband and herself plan to share the proceeds of the house and she wanted to know if she would have to pay stamp duty again.

In the lobby, there are racks and racks of leaflets which reflect the kind of issues people want to know more about: the national minimum wage; the living alone allowance; the carer's allowance; fire safety for older persons; passport applications for children where parents are not married; shared parenting for unmarried parents; domestic violence . . .

"We get most of our domestic violence queries during holiday periods, especially Christmas. A lot of them are drink-related," explains McCloskey. "Younger women are looking for refuges, but we get a lot of older women too, in their 60s and up, who have been victims of violence. It's much harder for them, at their stage of life, to look for support."

I sat in with officer Anne Doyle while she talked to two clients who had come in together. Some queries take just minutes; this one ran for an hour and 15 minutes. Both women had Parkinson's disease, and one had brought various forms with her for Doyle to look at before sending them off to the social welfare office.

The forms were for electricity, gas and phone allowances. She had been recently widowed, and confessed to never having taken responsibility for filling in forms before. As it happens, she had left out a few important things, which Doyle filled in - unless they had been checked, the incomplete forms would have been sent back to her.

Her friend's query was more complex. She had a disability, and had applied some time previously for a special grant to have a downstairs bathroom, and also to get other renovation work done. A grant was approved at Christmas, on foot of a specific quote from the builder. However, she got a second, significantly cheaper quote, and went with that builder instead. The work was done, and she had received an amended grant letter, for a proportionally lower sum. She was upset and worried as to why this was.

Doyle called the person who has signed the letter and made inquires on her behalf. It was simple: a lower quote meant a lower grant. The problem was that this was never explained to the client, and her careful budgeting was now awry as a result, with money outstanding to the builder. She was very upset. It turns out that that night was one of Crumlin's twice-monthly free legal advice clinics, so Doyle advised her to attend, and suggested that she might be able to appeal the decision. The two friends left, somewhat reassured. They said they would return later that night for the legal advice session.

Meanwhile, Brendan Phelan, in the next interview room, had spent 25 minutes on the phone to Sligo for a client whose children's allowance book had still not arrived.

All the officers agreed that they spend a lot of time hanging on the phone looking for information, and point out that pensioners could not afford to do this. That same day, Phelan also spent time with a woman who went off sick from work for a fortnight, and who then received a letter telling her that she was sacked.

"There'll be more to that than meets the eye," he says sagely. He advised the woman to take the matter up with the employment appeals tribunal, and gave her the forms to look at.

That day, he had also been talking to a woman whose brother was extremely depressed, because of the breakdown of his marriage. His ex-wife was not allowing him to visit their children. Phelan gave him information about the family services organisation, AIM, and also contact details for a men's support group, in Tallaght. "Every hour is different," he says.

"Sometimes you'll tell people something very simple, and they go away completely satisfied," observes McCloskey. Local people make known their appreciation of the service: every Christmas, cards and chocolates arrive by the truckload.

"I think people sometimes find a healing aspect in being able to talk to someone," Phelan says. "Even when you can't really help them."