I am not a fire hazard.

You probably think that’s quite an obvious statement to for me to make, but you’d be surprised just how often I’ve had to repeat it.

I had to say it when I attended a show and was initially denied access to the theatre, instead being directed to the sound balcony covered in wires that made it impassable from a wheelchair, because I would be an obstruction in the event of an evacuation. They relented once challenged.

I had to say it again when moving in with my husband (then-fiance) mere days after the Grenfell fire, and the concierge for our new block of flats complained that my powered wheelchair was liable to spontaneously combust and burn the entire block down to the ground. They relented once challenged.

I have had to say it yet again much more recently, after the concierge of our new block of flats informed my husband that I simply wasn’t allowed to bring my powered wheelchair, which they insisted was no different than an E-scooter, into the building due to it being a fire risk. Sadly, they did not relent once challenged, and the following events escalated into the biggest case of ableism I have ever personally encountered.

The concierge, who barely acknowledged my existence, remained silent in the days following their initial conversation with my husband. All seemed quietly resolved until we received an email from our letting agency on behalf of the landlord, asking questions about the make and model of my wheelchair and whether the batteries could be removed. The questions had come from the building management team who apparently needed this information to ensure that access would be maintained during upcoming building works. Since these questions seemed to bear no relation to the information required to ensure accessibility would be maintained, we queried the true purpose of the questions in the context of the comment from the concierge the week before. Offended on our behalf, the letting agent complained to building management and we were told that we would be contacted directly by building management in the near future.

Another few days passed and we received the promised communication from building management, finally addressed to myself, the wheelchair user, and not everybody else. They apologised for the concierge’s comment, confirming I was allowed to reside the in the building, which was a relief. However, they then doubled down on the notion that my wheelchair is a fire hazard due to the building containing materials not up to the safety standards set after Grenfell, asking the same questions about the wheelchair (this time without any mention of building works). In an attempt to keep the peace and not set a bad precedent for any future communications with building management, I gave them what information I could. In the same message, I expressed my concern that the wheelchair seemed to have become a target of intrusive questioning, when countless other lithium ion battery powered devices were already in the building without such a fuss.

Their next reply came not long after, thanking me for answering the questions and assuring me they were not targeting the wheelchair, essentially expressing that they were referring to regulations which apply to the E-scooter toys to my wheelchair instead. They then went on to request that they come to the apartment to do a fire risk safety assessment.

At this point I was tired and had had enough. I was annoyed that irrelevant regulations that applied to toys were being brought up, when regulations regarding the discrimination of disabled people had been apparently ignored. I politely but firmly reminded them that their course of questioning was inappropriate, but again in an attempt to keep the peace would agree to a fire risk assessment on the condition that it would be the end of the matter. I also mentioned that it would need to take place outside of standard office hours due to my work, and that another regulation pertaining the the safe evacuation of disabled people in the event of a fire would be adhered to. As of writing, I have yet to hear back, and am somewhat hoping this is the end of the matter, although I do have a plan of action should the matter continue.

Truth be told, in all of this the thing that has annoyed me most is that I was the last person spoken to about the matter despite being the owner of the wheelchair in question. To me, this felt plain disrespectful. I would probably have been far more obliging if an open and honest conversation had been directed my way, without the notion of not being allowed in my new home hanging over my head. However, all I feel now is resentment and mistrust. I’m sure that those who have lobbied for safer housing standards in the wake of Grenfell would be horrified to learn that it had been used as a means of harassing disabled people.

In more positive news, the day after my final email, a mysterious package turned up on our threshold. Inside was a very nice bottle of prosecco and some fancy chocolate truffles from the landlord, who was apologising for the hassle we had experienced despite it not being their fault at all.

Even better, despite frequent wheelchair use I have yet to have a fire lit under my backside, because wheelchairs are mobility aids, not fire hazards.