ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact

A young fella just looking for a place to rest his head at night is crestfallen today after yet another weekend of lining up to inspect yet another overpriced dogbox in a part of town that lacks even the most basic of services.

The nearest mailbox is a 15-minute walk, and the closest service station is over an hour away on foot. There’s little to redeem the Glenroy Crescent home in Betoota Heights, other than that it’s available for rent.

Damien Huxley told The Advocate that many of the “other people” who came to inspect the 3-bedroom den looked like they were from overseas.

“There are too many migrants here,” he said. “I don’t want to sound racist, but yeah, I think most of these people here are students. I don’t know why universities don’t just build their own accommodation and stop taking new admissions when they’re full. I know it goes beyond students and universities, but here and in most capital cities, it’s the same story.

“Sure, we’ve had successive governments just bulk import labour into this country for the past 70 years. It’s the quickest but ultimately the laziest way to grow an economy, especially when little has been done in the way of housing and transport infrastructure.

“Plus, there’s the issue of shipping in migrants that take jobs from locals, but again, I don’t want to get into it now. It’s just frustrating that my life has been impacted by government policy. As a 183cm tall Whooton School graduate with blue eyes and a full head of hair, I never thought the government would put policy into practice that would negatively affect my existence.”

After our reporter told Mr Huxley that employers have to look for local labour before going overseas, he just shrugged.

“What do you mean by that? You’re saying that someone like my sister could just work in aged care? She’s really clever, and no offence, but she’s better than that. What? You’re saying that I could work in aged care? Forget that.

“I could drive a cab? Why would I want to do that? Yeah sure, I tell strangers proudly that I got an ATAR of 45 despite my parents paying a quarter rock to educate me. That’s funny.

“That doesn’t mean I need to work in aged care; that means I’m just going to Bond.”

More to come.


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