Melbourne’s homelessness crisis continues to worsen in CBD
They’re sleeping in near-freezing temperatures — in cars, on park benches and on city streets — and desperately hoping for their luck to change. These are the tragic stories of Melbourne’s homeless.
Victoria
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Every night thousands of people sleep rough across Victoria — a problem which is worsening each year.
These are their stories.
People can’t understand
It was the middle of a freezing winter’s night and Simon* sat in the front seat of his car, parked on a street in Melbourne’s CBD.
He’d spent weeks like this: his body contorted awkwardly to try to get into a comfortable sleeping position as the dim light from street lamps lit up the cabin of the car and often kept him awake anyway. Overnight temperaturesfell towards freezing and Simon felt every degree the mercury dropped.
“I knew it was bad, but I never knew it was that bad,” he said of the chill.
According to the Bureau of Meteorology, overnight temperatures reached single-digits 40 times during July and August, prompting it to issue several frost warnings.
Simon, 25, had been homeless for four years. He spent weeks sleeping rough on the streets, and months living in his car.
He was sore from a chronic back injury and tired of eating and sleeping in the elements.
His hopes of turning his life around were diminished.
Homelessness affected all areas of his life.
People who hadn’t experienced it, he said, couldn’t understand it.
He spoke to the Sunday Herald Sun after attending a crisis accommodation meeting. He was frantic, jumping rapidly between thoughts. The lack of permanent housing made it difficult to steady his life and his long-term back injury prohibited long periods sitting, ruling out many jobs. His ADHD made it hard to focus, including when scheduling and sitting through emergency housing interviews.
When his car was written off in an accident, he secured temporary accommodation but life remained difficult. He lived among recovering addicts and recently released prisoners.
Some could be violent and unpredictable.
He was evicted from a youth accommodation shortly after his 25th birthday — the non-negotiable cut-off age at some youth support services.
“(Service providers are) turning people out, (they’re) just recycling them,” he said.
“They’re going to be back, you’re just throwing them to the (bottom) of the list.”
Simon is just one of the more than 30,000 homeless Victorians.
Approximately 1500 of these people live in Melbourne’s CBD, either on the streets — sheltering beneath hi-rise towers or in alleyways — or in short-term accommodation.
That number is about 25 per cent higher than six years ago.
‘Things only get harder’
On Elizabeth St, surrounded by an assortment of black bags and blankets, Monique sat on a piece of cardboard.
She rocked cross-legged on the spot, her hands tangled in a knitted throw draped across her lap as she tried to survive another winter.
Homeless since she was a teenager, and was now 47. Partly deaf, increasing her vulnerability, and missing several teeth, Monique’s voice was dry and peppered by a gooselike, rattling cough.
“I’ve got a cold, a constant runny nose,” she said.
“To be able to pick myself up into good health in such cold weather is almost impossible until summer gets here.”
She had hoped to raise $30 over the day for a hostel bed. It would have been a room with several others, some who would probably also be homeless. But as sunset closed in, Monique realised she hadn’t raised enough and would spend another night in an arcade doorway, wrapped in a sleeping bag on top of a piece of cardboard.
“Things only get harder,” she said.
‘Once the cold set in, that was it’
Metres away from Monique, Krissie sat in the passing sunshine of a midwinter afternoon.
She was on the floor at the end of a line of high-end businesses including watchmakers, a jewellery store and two banks. The 53-year-old spoke of spending the night under a mountain of blankets on Swanston St when the temperature dipped to 3.4°C — a similar temperature to a refrigerator.
“It didn’t matter how many blankets I had, once the cold set in, that was it — I was freezing,” she said. “It was pretty horrid.”
Krissie, who has been homeless for years, said the recent cold worsened her depression.
Anguish showed in her weakness of speech, her shaking hands and how her lips trembled as she spoke of her condition.
“You just hope something happens,” she said, looking up, either to the sky or to those walking by,” she said.
“Some sort of help of any kind, some sort of food, clothing.”
Money raised on the street would never be enough to pull her out of homelessness, she said, as tears welled in her eyes. It was needed for more immediate concerns.
“There’s so many things that are more important (now) like blankets,” she said.
Krissie might sit here for hours: her head bowed over an upturned cap, a cigarette poking through her fingers.
Others echoed her story.
Peter, 64, spends his days on the pavement in Southbank.
His clothes were tattered and dirty and his face was spotted with sores. In a gravelly voice he said he would spend the night sleeping in a park.
“I’m getting older and it’s getting harder,” he said.
Nearby Travis, 31, slept on a mattress outside Flinders Street Station. During winter he developed a chest infection so severe he coughed up blood.
Homelessness has become a concern for a growing number of Victorians according to Anglicare Victoria, which claims a growing number of employed, housed people are inquiring about support. Across a state where rental costs increase by more than 10 per cent each year and where grocery prices have surged by 14 per cent in only a few months, the service said, many were fearing they were at risk.
“The last few weeks have been brutal,” said Jack Brookes, AV’s Homelessness Services team Leader.
“I have people coming to me who have been sleeping rough for the last decade saying they haven’t experienced a winter like (that) in a very long time.”
“To try and find the motivation to get up and get a meal or explore housing options is incredibly difficult and it has such deep impacts on people’s physical health but also on their mental wellbeing.”
Across Victoria, tens of thousands of people sleep on bedroom floors or couches, on footpaths, or in parks, or empty blocks, beneath grandstands, or at train stations and in shop doorways. Housing insecurity brings threats from cold, illness, hunger or violence. From personal safety to job security, homelessness haunts every facet of life. Blankets can only do so much.
Victoria is in the midst of a severe public housing shortage, with its stock officially the lowest of any state. Social housing makes up just three per cent of all homes.
An Auditor-General review into Victorian homelessness towards the end of last decade found the state’s investment in social housing was more than 40 per cent lower than the national average — while it held 40 per cent of the nation’s homeless population, despite being home to just 25 per cent of the country.
Meanwhile, a 2022 inquiry found support services for homeless people were “overwhelmed” and struggling.
The State Government’s current plans to address a situation described as a “crisis” by some voices includes nearly $200 million for emergency support services this financial year – a rise of 32 per cent over the previous year, on top of $300 million it claims to spend annually on other homeless programs.
There is also the target of 800,000 new homes across Victoria over the decade, intended to alleviate demand and potentially introduce more affordable options.
But its record is blighted by failing to address the core issues, according to the state opposition, which pointed to figures showing social housing stock had increased just 1.5 per cent between 2018 and 2023, while the waiting time for housing for victims of domestic violence had increased threefold (23.6 months). The waiting list for housing was now 20,000 applicants longer than one decade ago.
Victorian Liberal Party Shadow Minister for Housing Richard Roirdan called the situation “a disaster” and said homeless people were “waiting longer for a home and have fewer choices”.
These figures, and complaints of shortfalls or policy failures, have led to calls from the non-profit sector for more ambitious investment.
Among those, Community Housing Industry Association Victoria, the peak body for non-profit community housing, has campaigned for a pledge of $6 billion for community housing over the decade.
That figure – three times more than pledged by the State and Federal Governments last year – would approximately match the budget for road maintenance.
CHIAV praised the state government’s Covid-era programs, including direct action to get people into housing during lockdowns, but said they had been watered down or eliminated since the pandemic.
“Nobody questions that we should spend money on roads,” chief executive Sarah Toohey said.
“But housing is far more fundamental to peoples’ wellbeing.”
*Name changed