I couldn't afford to fix my broken bed. People in poverty like me need help with the essentials

When my bed broke after only three months, I thought it would be a small inconvenience. But weeks went by, and I realised I couldn’t afford to replace it. What should have been a simple problem became a daily struggle that affected every part of my life.

Parenting on little sleep is tough. You are more irritable, less patient and constantly exhausted. My child noticed the difference, too. Instead of having the energy to sit and chat, or play together after school, I found myself snapping, withdrawing, or just too tired to be present. A broken bed is not just about discomfort at night — it is about how a parent shows up during the day, and the knock-on effect on the whole family’s wellbeing.

We often think of poverty as being about numbers: income levels, benefit rates, or employment statistics. But for families like mine, it’s the basics that tell the true story. When a fridge breaks down, you can’t store food safely. When the cooker stops working, meals become more expensive and less healthy. When a bed collapses, rest disappears. These are everyday essentials, yet without them, stability is lost.

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This is why I chose to speak about my experience when I was invited to present on child poverty to Scotland’s first minister, John Swinney, and the cabinet secretary for social justice, Shirley-Anne Somerville. Sharing something so ordinary, yet so important, helped to make the conversation real.

I linked my story to Scotland’s Tackling Child Poverty Delivery Plan, which is built around four themes: work and opportunities; cost of living and income; whole family support; and children and young people’s future. For me, my broken bed most clearly connects to whole family support.

Whole family support is about recognising that children thrive when the entire family is supported. It’s not enough to focus only on income, education, or employment. If the parent is exhausted because they can’t sleep, if the home is unsafe because appliances are broken, if daily life is unstable, then children feel the impact.

This approach matters because it sees the family as a unit. Parents’ wellbeing directly shapes children’s wellbeing. If you support parents – giving them the basics, easing the pressure, making sure they have a safe and secure home – you also support children’s health, learning and future chances.

That’s why I believe the theme of whole family support is vital. It recognises that poverty isn’t solved by just one policy lever. Families need joined-up, practical support to make life manageable day to day. Without this, parents are left trying to build a stable home on foundations that are constantly crumbling.

I also connected my experience to the cost of living and income theme. The truth is that even with benefits and part-time wages, the rising cost of living leaves nothing to spare. Rent, bills, food, and transport swallow up every penny. So when something essential breaks, there’s no money left over. Families are pushed into impossible choices: do you go into debt, do you cut food, or do you simply go without?

That’s what happened with my bed. And I know many other families face the same when it comes to fridges, cookers, or washing machines.

Based in my experience, my policy ask for the Scottish government is simple: create a dedicated fund so families on low incomes can replace essential household items when they break.

This is not about luxuries – it’s about the foundations of daily life. A bed to sleep on. A cooker to make meals. A fridge to keep food fresh. Providing a safety net for these basics would give families dignity, stability, and hope. It would stop small problems from snowballing into crises.

Standing up to share my story at Bute House in Edinburgh was nerve-wracking. It felt vulnerable to admit something as personal as not being able to replace a bed. But I believe it’s important. Policies are often written in meeting rooms, far from the realities of family life. Lived experience makes those policies real. It turns abstract plans into practical needs.

When lived experience and policy expertise come together, the result is stronger, fairer and more responsive solutions. That’s why I felt proud walking away from my presentation. Proud that I had spoken up. Proud that my story might help others. And hopeful that Scotland’s approach to tackling child poverty will continue to value the voices of those living it.

Gloria Odhi is a participant of Changing Realities, a participatory research project made up of parents/carers, researchers from the Universities of Glasgow and York, and Child Poverty Action Group. It aims to both document life on a low income in the UK and create opportunities to amplify the voices of people with lived experience.

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