The word “freebie” is almost universally loved; after all, who doesn’t love getting something for nothing at all? However, there is one circumstance under which I dread hearing the word, because it means I am being fobbed off. When I challenge a lack of accessibility, I do not want freebies; I want accessibility to be restored.

In my final year of being a student, the university union was undergoing a major refit. While still in use, there was always at least one section of the building closed off while being re-modelled, and navigating building works as a disabled person can be especially challenging.

My accommodation was behind the union, and if not for the lift at the rear of the union, I would have to travel a substantial distance all the way around the outside of the building. In the first few years of studying I frequently had issues with security blocking the lift off with barriers and leaving them there for days on end, and at other times I would find the route obscured by delivery trucks. When the lift was being worked on as part of the union refit, things grew much worse.

A replacement lift was installed at the back of the union, but was switched off outside of standard working hours. This meant that if I dared to attend the union in an evening, as a student may be wont to do, I had to traipse all the way around the building. Even during normal hours, I often had difficulties. On many occasions the internal lift doors would open to reveal building materials blocking the corridor, and sometimes the external entrance to the lift would be blocked. On one memorable occasion, several large bins had been placed against the external door, and I had to kick my way out. I got grumbled at for knocking over the bins.

On each and every occasion I experienced such an issue, I would take photographs and email the facilities team. Eventually, they got so sick of me complaining that instead of dealing with the issue, they simply directed me to the head of the union. I was invited to meet with them to “share my concerns” where I was given some free vouchers for one of the bars. I was delighted to have no accessibility issues whatsoever when enjoying my free meal, but within a matter of days it became apparent that they were simply trying to get me to shut up by giving me freebies, rather than fixing the problems. It didn’t work.

More recently, a new business opened in town replacing one of my favourite accessible venues in the city centre, and so after confirming on social media that accessibility had been maintained I paid them a visit. Or should I say, I tried to.

Upon arrival I went to the accessible entrance and tugged the door, fruitlessly. It was locked. There was no bell or phone number to call, not that I wanted to sit outside waiting to be let in like a dog, so I went elsewhere and gave them what-for on social media.

I was informed that the door was not locked, just stiff, which was odd since there was no issue pulling the door until it jammed and bumped back, exactly as a locked door would do. Insistent that I was mistaken about the door being locked, I was invited back with the offer of free drinks. As with the union, this subsequent visit went swimmingly, but I did not return until the work Christmas party a month later.

Upon arriving I was relieved to find that the door was not locked, but when the lift doors opened I found that furniture had been crammed into the space outside the lift so tightly that guests were having to move entire chairs and tables to allow me past. I ventured through the packed venue to the event space, and found the entrance barred by heavy kegs. A couple of colleagues had to come to my aid. As they moved kegs, they told me they had asked the venue staff to move them, but had been refused, as apparently these kegs were preventing people from wandering into our party. This was of course completely ineffective, as the only person it barred from the space was a party guest.

The party was wonderful, although I was dependent on colleagues to fetch me food and drink, and I didn’t attempt to get to the bathrooms around the kegs. I messaged the venue staff while still at the party and this time they gave the excuse that I had come on one of the busiest nights of the year (because disabled people shouldn’t be allowed out after dark I guess) and that they were a new business. How being a new business excuses ableism is beyond me. Anyway, in addition to their excuses I was also offered free drinks for a subsequent visit. I would have greatly preferred it if they had moved the kegs and unblocked the lift so that I could at least exit the building smoothly, but apparently that really was too much to ask. I won’t be going back.

It is clear to me now that when a business offers me something free when I raise concerns around inaccessibility, my concerns will not be addressed. I could perhaps understand the logic behind offering free things if they needed to cough up great sums of money to make themselves accessible, but in both cases these businesses already had the means to be accessible but simply did not make use of them.

At the end of the day, accessibility is freedom, and I value this far more than simple freebies. When I make a complaint regarding disabled access, I don’t want freebies; I want freedom.