Four families who rely on the Markhouse Centre in Walthamstow speak movingly about their plight
By Marco Marcelline & Sebastian Mann, Local Democracy Reporter

Sally has been coming home in tears since finding out the special needs day centre she’s attended since 1984 may close forever.
A keen indoor bowler with a love for jazz and classical music, the 63-year-old is one of 53 adults with special educational needs and severe disabilities who face the prospect of losing the Markhouse Centre, should Waltham Forest Council decide to shut it on 3rd December.
As the decision looms, families and carers have branded the council, who say the ageing building is too costly to maintain, “unnecessarily cruel” and “hard hearted”.
Jane Reeves, Sally’s older sister and primary carer, strongly shares that view, stating that their mother and father, who cared for Sally
throughout their lives, would “turn in their graves” if they knew it faced closure.
“Our mum Pam and dad Sid both treasured the Markhouse; they even raised money for it some years ago just so it could keep going. Back in those days, it used to be such a hub of activity; Sally could go horse-riding, and there were seaside trips. [The council] cut those activities but it’s still such an important second family for Sally. A home away from home.”
Accusing the Labour-run council of “exaggerating” the £1.2million repair bill for the centre, Jane said she feared it would end up being
sold to hungry housing developers. Because of her sister’s shy temperament, Jane also worries that Sally may regularly end up being
alone and “left to sit in the corner” if she was forced to attend a different day centre full of unfamiliar faces.
Jane warns: “It won’t be healthy for her. With age she’s become less mobile, and if she’s stuck in a chair all day her muscles will atrophy.”
Like many others who attend the Markhouse Centre, Zaina, 22, is severely autistic and relies on it for a sense of routine, keenly anticipating the bus that takes her there from Wednesday to Friday.
Her mother Nusra, who gave up a career in the civil service to look after her full-time, says she regularly asks, “Am I going to the centre?” or “When’s the [Markhouse] bus coming?”.
Unlike Sally, Zaina doesn’t know about the plans to shut the centre. Nusra says she’s yet to tell her: “If I had to sit her down and say, ‘you can’t go there anymore’, she would start throwing a tantrum. She would pick things up and start throwing them. Every week has a set routine, and if it’s altered in any way it would mentally affect her.”
Caring for Zaina, who she describes as “a lovely, absolutely gorgeous girl”, means she very rarely gets a full night’s sleep. “Zaina has up to eight violent seizures a night, so I have to get up and make sure she’s OK each time.”

The five hours, three days a week, that Zaina is at Markhouse is the only time her mother has for herself each week. It means
she can go to GP appointments or, most likely, catch up on lost sleep: “When the bus picks her up, I close the window, lock the doors, put my phone away, and just sleep,” she says.
After Zaina finished school in 2020, Nusra and her husband struggled and failed to find a college that would fit Zaina’s needs, which are complicated by her tourettes. In the end, she was forced to keep Zaina at home for nearly two years before a place at the Markhouse Centre was freed up.
If Markhouse shuts and Zaina does not acclimatise well to a new centre, Nusra fears she may have to make the same decision. Her voice cracking at the thought, she says: “I’m really, really dreading it.”
Catherine Tokens’ 51-year-old son Paul has been attending the Markhouse Centre for 30 years. He is non-verbal, with autistic
tendencies, and goes to the centre four days a week. She says Markhouse “has given Paul a life of his own”.
Waqas Jamal, whose sister Aisha also uses the centre, said it has “taught her skills” and given her some independence. Over the past 22 years, she has learned how to cook and play cricket. Like it does for Nusra, the centre also offers respite for other carers. Waqas said it was a “big relief” for his mother and gives her the chance to “get her energy back” during the day.
Catherine said Markhouse means she can visit her 97-year-old mother in Bedfordshire, go to the hospital, and run errands. Meanwhile, the prospect of the centre closing has already upset Aisha, Waqas said.
He added: “She couldn’t go because of a problem with the boilers and was sitting in the living room asking when the bus was coming. For her, going there and seeing her friends is her world. She can forget about her medication but won’t forget her friends’ names.”
Stressing the impact the closure of Markhouse would have on her son, Catherine issues an appeal to council decision makers: “If Paul loses the Markhouse, he’ll lose a building where he knows where he is. And the very worst thing is, he’ll lose all the staff who can understand him.
“You can’t work with people who can’t speak unless you can understand them, and that takes a long time. It’ll be horrendous for him. And we’ll be left to pick up the bits.”
Read the Echo‘s view here
No news is bad news
Independent news outlets like ours – reporting for the community without rich backers – are under threat of closure, turning British towns into news deserts.
The audiences they serve know less, understand less, and can do less.
If our coverage has helped you understand our community a little bit better, please consider supporting us with a monthly, yearly or one-off donation.
Choose the news. Don’t lose the news.
Monthly direct debit
Annual direct debit
£5 per month supporters get a digital copy of each month’s paper before anyone else, £10 per month supporters get a digital copy of each month’s paper before anyone else and a print copy posted to them each month. £50 annual supporters get a digital copy of each month's paper before anyone else.
More information on supporting us monthly or annually
More Information about donations