A Mayo success story that silences the prophets of doom
You couldn't script such a sea change
by Caoimhín Rowland
The village of Lahardane was heralded with a rare good news story this week, shaped around a crisis in rural Ireland as the parish of Addergoole appears to have bucked a clichéd trend.
Politicians played their part too, a unified front of all of Mayo’s deputies rowing in behind the campaign to lobby the HSÉ was crucial, but it was a movement led and supported by a bottom-up contingent of young mothers, farmers, business folk and local activists, in essence the modern makeup of rural Ireland.
Unfortunately, we no longer see such collective community action garner national headlines, but the Irish Independent devoted such inches to the méitheal movement's search for a GP under the shadow of Nephin.
An Iraqi-born Irish citizen, Dr. Amjad Ahmed, was convinced by local people in the parish to take up the position.
The role had been advertised after the former GP decided to vacate his position for new pastures, but according to the health service, no one was interested in applying for the position.
The next logical move from their perspective was an amalgamation. Growing fears of a village being decimated and losing its attractiveness to relocators loomed.
Community is nothing without collaboration, without locals staging daily sit-ins there would be no Nephin Medical Centre and no Lahardane GP on Prime Time speaking about how excited he is to get to work, contribute to the community and someday see Mayo win the All-Ireland.
An Iraqi-born Irish citizen has been welcomed with open arms to Lahardane. Certain dissenters of migration, who complain about the lack of services in Mayo, blamed on migration, have grown quiet on the rural GP crisis since it no longer suits a narrative.
Migration didn’t cause waiting lists at your doctor’s office, refugees are not raising the cost of housing in Mayo. These issues have been apparent in Irish life since the economic crash and well before then.
Opportunists in office who have failed to look after their electorate sufficiently are now hearing from ‘concerned citizens’ that these issues persist, however, and an election looms.
Privatisation and a reduction in public sector spending have caused crippling infrastructural problems, it has been known for some time our population will increase and anyone in Mayo who has grown up attending rural schools, lived through decades of goodbyes, and lonely Christmases should seek the joy in our new-found ability to welcome those who want to contribute to our county.
A week is a long time in politics.
Mayo was declared ‘full’ via a unanimous decision by populist councillors in January, compounded by claims that our services are overstretched and bursting at the seams.
A week later, news emerged that Mayo is the best county to relocate to - Castlebar and Ballina topped the polls, according to a leading survey. You couldn’t script such a sea change and blatant hypocrisy.
For many in Mayo, if you’re fleeing famine, war or one of the 600 homeless asylum seekers camped on the streets outside the international protection office, Mayo is full.
For the sea-swimming ‘Dry Robe’-clad and De'Longhi coffee machine-buying bunch seeking the best brunch in town, Mayo is open to you.
Now, throw on your thinking cap and ask which group raises property prices.
Perhaps we’re not snobbish and classist in Mayo, xenophobia isn’t in our nature, and, fortunately, at the time of writing, we’re one of the few counties without a burned-out asylum centre.
Yet, it’s the same as it ever was here. We're no more snobbish and classist than our former colonial powers.