The wheres, whys and whats that are just up their street

THE type of people who own homes at Lady’s Cross on the outskirts of Clonakilty are just the voter profile that Fine Gael are throwing their arms open to this election.

In all likelihood, they probably don’t even have to chase this vote as these young PAYE families in three, four and five- bedroom detached houses, are more than a little angry at how “it all went wrong”.

First stop on the canvas trail with Fine Gael county councillor, Jim Daly, is the home of a fourth-year auctioneering student. “I’ll be in Dublin on June 5 doing my last exam. I won’t be able to vote. Sorry,” she says with the look of someone who has more than enough worries on her plate.

Next stop is a young father, Sean Reddy who says he recognises Jim from his Daly Newsletter.

“What can I do for you?,” says the ever-polite Jim. “What about our roundabout?” he asks as children run around his legs.

“It’s fairly bad news, I’m afraid The story is that there’s no funding. It’s an NRA project. All we can do is lobby them,” says Jim. The man sighs.

“It’s like this all the way,” says Jim. “I don’t think there is going to be a landslide against Fianna Fáil because local elections are hugely based on local personalities and local records. It’s the roundabouts and the potholes”.

Jim, who promises “good value for his vote”, rarely has to introduce himself in this estate. It’s more “Jim, when are we getting our Tesco” or “Jim, where are the jobs”.

The estate has plenty of teachers including one from Gaelscoil Cloch na Coillte. They know they’ve met an ally in Jim, himself a former headmaster.

“Well, you know what I want Jim,” says another resident, Padraig Aherne. “We’re still spending €250,000 per year on prefab rent. We have a teacher now who went through the prefab system here and is now back on the other side of the desk – that’s how long we’re waiting for a school”.

Another teacher, Diarmuid O’Donnabhain won’t divulge his precise voting intentions but says: “We’re looking to yourselves or Labour. There’s isn’t a hope of change with Fianna Fáil.”

He’s incensed at how government mishandling of the economy and how the new pension levy and increased tax rates are eating into his take home pay.

“The tell tale signs were there at the last election, Jim. They could have worked to prevent this,” he says, with the air of an aged sailor who had long predicted the storm.

The mood is little different at another housing estate, Parklands, a 10-minute drive away where Sinn Féin town councillor, Cionnaith O’Súilleabháin, who is also looking for a county council seat, is doing the rounds.

On the town council for the 13 years, where he is known as one of the hardest working councillors, Cllr O’Súilleabháin’s vote appeal has moved beyond republicans.

Nowhere in this estate is the door shut to him or is he given short shrift. He even manages to throw together three or four words of Polish for a young immigrant. She smiles, delighted at the effort, but admits “I’m not registered”. “Next time”, he counters. He tells me he sees canvassing as “like a job interview”.

Another doorstep concern is the youth cafe.

“We have the premises. We are fundraising. We hope to have it open by the mid-summer,” he smiles. Youth mental health and underage drinking have long been on his policy platform.

“We had a spate of young suicides in this town and I tried to set up an open day where people could get help and information on services. It was shot down without any real consideration. It’s a huge issue for us as a party when the others deliberately try to vote us down. It takes forever for us to get things thorough. But I won’t give up and I think people of this town have begun to admit this,” he sighs.