Putting the heart into soulless suburbia

It's payback time for developers, say residents of Ratoath, Co Meath. Carl O'Brien, Social Affairs Correspondent, reports

As she thinks back to the idyllic picture housing developers painted of suburban life in Ratoath, Co Meath, Amanda McLoughlin can't help laughing. The brochures had watercolour impressions of a peaceful village with parklands and river walkways. There would also be playgrounds for children, a community centre for the growing village, along with a scouts' den.

"That was five years ago," Amanda, a mother-of-two, says gloomily. "Instead of the parkland and riverside walkway, they built another 300 or 400 houses. We still don't have a playground for the kids. Not much of what was promised ever materialised."

Ratoath, once a small village near Fairyhouse racecourse, has become the fastest-growing centre in Dublin's commuter belt, the number of residents soaring by more than 82 per cent between 1996 and 2002, to reach 5,585.

The population explosion caused predictable problems. There are few amenities, poor lighting, scarce footpaths, horrendous traffic and intermittent public transport.

"We have regular conversations about moving back to Dublin," Amanda says, referring to her husband, Humphrey, and two children, Aimee (13) and Aynsley (5).

"We've a lovely life with a great house, space in the garden and wonderful neighbours. But there are so few amenities locally that it's a big day out if we're to do anything."

Slowly, however, there are signs that the community is beginning to catch up with the pace of development.

In the village a crane is helping to erect the metal skeleton of what will become a new €2 million community centre. Housing estates, which are springing up, come with purpose-built crèches. Developers have given land for the long-awaited parkland as well as new sports grounds and an athletics track.

The visible progress - slow and faltering as it may be - is all the more remarkable given that much of it has been driven by local people looking for payback from housing developers who have profited on the back of the housing boom.

"Some developers came in here and walked off into the sunset with a pile of money in their pocket, and simply couldn't care less about Ratoath," says Nick Killian, a long-time local community activist. "They left problems behind like unfinished estates without proper footpaths or lighting."

For many of the residents' groups and local politicians it's a matter of payback time as they pressurise developers into giving something back to the community.

Many have responded, offering land for community purposes, such as sports fields, making substantial donations to local projects. As part of a fundraising campaign to raise money for a new local community centre, a local housing developer donated a three-bedroom semi-detached house at discount to the committee for a draw.

The move to inveigle developers into playing a more socially responsible role hasn't happened overnight. The roots of the movement came from a number of developments, says Killian, including growing frustration at the lack of amenities, changes in planning laws and a strong network of residents' groups.

"As a community we've all worked together," says Killian. "When the county development plan was drafted in 2001, we sat down as a community with a number of developers and outlined what we needed. We needed land for sports clubs, a running track, soccer, tennis and other facilities. We either acquired the land or had it provided to us at an economic rate."

Other agencies became involved as well. The Department of Education earmarked a new site for a primary and secondary school for the area. The local health authority also identified a piece of land for a new health centre.

Given declining levels of volunteerism in an increasingly frantic pace of life, the strength of residents' groups sounds surprising. Amanda McLoughlin, a member of Woodlands Residents' Association, says the community has been helped by newer and more established residents working together in everyone's best interests.

"We all have a responsibility to make this a more pleasant community, to get the best for Ratoath. We all have the same strong approach.

"Last September, for instance, we wanted pedestrian lights outside the primary school, where 1,000 kids are crossing the road each day. When nothing happened, we got together protested, and we've got the lights now."

Another factor in mobilising community spirit in the area, says Killian, a long-time resident in the area, is the feeling that Ratoath is still a relatively small and manageable geographical area.

"We are a small enough community, not spread out in the way larger suburbs are. There was a hard core of people involved in the community before the development began. The newer residents started coming on board and the groups developed a strong and influential voice."

Residents in the area also tend to be affluent, politically engaged and may be in a better position to get things done than in other struggling suburbs.

A study by sociologists at NUI Maynooth, for instance, found that almost 60 per cent of the families who moved to Ratoath in recent years were relatively affluent, while estate agents locally say house prices here are at least 15 per cent higher than other commuter-belt areas in the region.

Ratoath, however, hasn't solved all its problems by any means. Traffic is a major issue, with articulated lorries seeking to avoid the M50, trundling through the town all day. There is also a lack of amenities for teenagers, which is beginning to lead to a rise in anti-social behaviour. And there is still the problem of a lack of footpaths and streetlighting in some areas.

"The development has to slow down," says Killian. "We can't keep going at the pace we're going. As the children grow older, we're finding we need a centre where teenagers who aren't into sport can hang out. We'll need to keep on top of developers and the local authorities. All kids of promises were made during the recent byelection - we want to make sure they're delivered."

Amanda and her family, meanwhile, have stopped their regular conversations about moving back to Dublin.

"There are stresses and strains, like the hassle of trying to get anywhere," she says. "We have given serious thought to moving on, but our 13-year-old has settled here and is making friends. So it looks like we'll give it another shot."