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After one of my surgeries, I decided to stay at the Ama Transition House in White Rock, British
Columbia, simply because I wasn’t allowed to stay on my own. Unfortunately, my stay there was la total nightmare. To start with, hardly any of the donations were given to the guests. Instead,
they were stacked to the ceiling in the garage. Of course, from time to time, the staff would let us take a few items, as long as we didn’t tell anyone. Because of this, I was able to replace a
few items that had already been stolen or gone missing. You see, during my stay Ama House, theft was rampant. Even the staff got into the act. And although they were required to give us
twenty-four hours notice before searching our rooms, the staff would enter and take our medication without asking, eventually locking it up. Then, when it was time for us to take our
meds, they would stand over us, making us feel like drug addicts. Worst of all, the staff also refused to give a lady her food supply cheque; so she just sat there and cried. Thankfully, I was
able to help her out that weekend.
Later in my stay, a women moved over from Maggie’s House. She’d been kicked out for
“temperamental behavior.” She told stories of people stealing, including the staff. She said they were going into each other’s rooms and taking whatever they liked. It sounded crazy. A few
weeks later, I was offered an opportunity to move into Maggie’s House. And although I’d heard the stories, I still wanted to check it out, mainly because the rent was cheap. So, I met with the
staff, and after talking to the caretaker, she invited me to move in. I was extremely happy and grateful. Sadly, moving into Maggie’s House (August 2014) was a waste of time. I felt duped, all
because the staff seemed very helpful and nice, which made me think the other woman was a liar. But she wasn’t, and now I know better, she was telling the truth.
It all started at end of September. I noticed somebody had been in my room. It happened at least four times a month. I could tell because they’d always leave the door wide open (when it
would initially be shut). When I complained to the supervisor, she wouldn’t listen. She said I was accusing the caretaker of stealing, when I didn’t have any proof. When I mentioned the security
cameras, she said they weren’t recording those days. So the theft continued, and over the span of my stay, the majority of what I brought over from Ama House, disappeared.
This was happening to twelve other women, so we called the Police. When the police arrived, everyone went into the TV room and talked. It was a neutral place where the police could ask us
question, free from any staff, caretakers or supervisors taking notes. Unfortunately, the caretaker crossed the line, sat in the room and took notes. Then, as the police were leaving, she
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told them that all of us had problems and that nobody was normal. Sadly, the police took her
word over ours, and dropped the investigation. One day, during the supervisor’s visit, we all wanted to talk to her. Unfortunately, she was too busy to hear our complaints. Instead, she kept
saying that they were accusations and abuse; she clearly didn’t care about what was going on, or our wellbeing.
On June 3rd, 2015, the entire house had a meeting. When it was my turn to speak, I asked about an accusation the caretaker made about me using crystal meth. She had assumed I was
using drugs because I was carrying around a paper bag a friend had given me. But it wasn’t crystal, it was food. Unfortunately, the supervisor sided with the caretaker. This made me
extremely upset, so I ran into my friends room, grabbed one of the bags and showed the entire house; it was candy. The supervisor didn’t take the news well. She jumped up and pushed me
out of the room and down the hallway. This was against my will. Worse, it’s against their policy to touch anyone, but she took liberty with me. Unfortunately, the camera in the hallway didn’t
capture any footage or the footage was deleted. Thankfully, a friend witnessed the whole thing. She saw me being yelled at, pushed and finally given my first notice. After three notices, they
can kick you out.
The longer I stayed, the worse things became. One time, the guests received food poisoning
from something the caretaker cooked. Another time, during a sleepless night, I watched the caretaker (and daughter) load up their vehicle with donations; ones that should have gone to the
guests. Then, one day, while passing the office, I heard my own voice. They were recording our conversations. But when I asked about it, they said it wasn’t me. I was so mad. And while I knew
it was my voice, I couldn’t prove it. However, later on, while having some paperwork faxed, the supervisor pressed a wrong button, and I heard a phone conversation from a lady downstairs.
Instead of saying anything, I kept quiet and waited until the faxes went through. I then went downstairs and told the lady what was happening. She was furious.
Another incident involved maggots in my room. One day, my fridge stopped working. I asked the caretaker if she could remove it for me. 3 weeks later, it was still in my room. So I tried moving it
myself, but I could only move it so far. However, it was enough for me to see the nightmare living below; maggots. I lifted the carpet and saw millions of them. They were everywhere. I
showed the supervisor, and she immediately moved my fridge. But when she cleaned the carpets, she never cleaned underneath them, so I refused to sleep in my room for a few weeks.
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Not much later in my stay, I received my second notice. They said I was threatening a staff
member, but it was the staff member who was threatening me. There was nothing I could do. One more strike and I was out. There was also a health and safety issue involving bedbugs, but
Atira denied the claim, even though the lady living in the room, who had just moved out, had pictures to prove it.
There were many other incidents that happened during my stay. One time I heard yelling in the hallway, so I exited my room and saw a friend of mine crying. She was running from the
supervisor. When the supervisor saw me, she told me to go back to my room (for no reason), which made me feel like a criminal. Another time, while living at Ama House, several staff
members got kicked out for stealing people’s items, including cheques that belonged to the older residents. Drug and alcohol abuse was also rampant with the residents. During my stay,
women would scream and yell at each other. One woman took a mirror down and said she wanted to break it over the supervisors head. Somehow, she never received a notice for her
outbreak.
My third notice came when my eleven year old grandson visited me in April of 2016. We were
having a good time, but then one of the residents started bullying him. After the third altercation, within two days, I asked her to leave my grandson alone. Instead, she called the police. After
they were called a second time, I was given my third notice, and told to leave within ten days (end of the month). By then, I had already paid for May’s rent. What’s worse, the supervisor
refused to hear my side of the story; they just took my keys and I moved out. I waited three weeks for them to return my rent cheque, which they had already deposited. Thankfully I was
able to stay at my daughter’s house, or I’d be living on the streets. Unfortunately, I was never given my damage deposit back, which was to be returned the same time as my rent cheque.
And that’s about it. While there is more I could discuss, I think I’ve provided enough information to convince women to stay away from there. I also hope it helps anyone living there to get the
support they deserve. Most importantly, I don’t want anyone having the same traumatic experience I had while living at Maggie’s House, which is the purpose of writing this article.
Thank you.
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