A taxi widow's life

When her husband died four years ago, Rita Fernandez (left) was left with three children to care for, no income, and just one asset - her husband's taxi plate. "I was a full-time housewife and mother, and suddenly facing this decision on how to look after the kids." Because of complications after the bereavement, probate tax was to be charged on his estate, to which the value of the plate was added.

"I was asked to price it myself. I had no idea what the market value would be so I looked up the ads in the evening paper and valued it at £70,000. I could have put a lower figure but I'm too honest." She was duly taxed on the plate, and it was partly as a result of this that she decided to hold onto it. "I was thinking of selling it. But, then, here was the Government taxing me on my asset. They created a belief that the market would stay regulated. It looked to me as safe as houses. So I decided to keep the plate and rent it out so that I could look after my family with the proceeds." The rest, as they say is history.

Two years later, the taxi industry was liberalised. Overnight, Rita's plate became almost worthless. "I might get €40 or €50 for it now. That's the going rate." She adds, however, "I'm lucky enough. I've got someone to rent out my plate for a while. He's only doing it to see if he likes the work, and if he does he'll get a plate of his own. If that happens I'll be forced to sell it, or let it lapse. That's happening to a lot of widows' plates. They have no choice but to sell. They lose their asset. They lose their income. They lose their choice." Her awareness of the suffering of others is not merely anecdotal. Last year, after going on a radio show to talk about her situation, she got a call from a woman who was paying more than €900 a week to pay off a loan, taken out some years ago for a £85,000 plate. She subsequently helped form a group called FAIR (Families Advocate Immediate Redress), which now has 400 members. It was partly due to its lobbying that the Government agreed last February to set up an independent panel to investigate the extent of hardship caused by liberalisation.

"I had never given the taxi industry much thought before," says Fernandez. "I never realised people were re-mortgaging their homes to pay for plates. But when I heard this woman's story, and how she was left with this huge debt, I felt very angry. It's not fair that widows and young people have to pay off these vast amounts for the rest of their lives."

She has little good to say about the former Minister of State with responsibility for the area, Bobby Molloy. Despite his recent troubles, she notes: "He will have his pension. He will be OK." In contrast, she is living off a widow's pension of €120 a week, with an extra €21 for her youngest son. "I ask you, €3 a day for an 11-year-old boy. How do you live off that? You cut corners, that's how."

She used to earn £200 a week from her plate. Now she gets about one-fifth of that. It just about covers her payments to a life assurance policy she took out after her husband died."If the bit of rent goes," she notes, "that policy will be going too."