Just five minutes to tell 140 they’re no longer needed

AS a sign of the times, the three words etched beside the exit at the Smurfit Kappa branch in Cork said it all.

The company have preferred to describe the shock loss of 140 jobs at the 173-strong site in Togher as “rationalisation” and that a “significant manufacturing presence” will be retained.

A spokesperson even said “there could be people who want to go” and take the redundancy package now being negotiated.

But as the workers’ cars slowly trailed away after a terse five-minute meeting with management, the three-word sign on the fence — Emergency Evacuation Point — summed up the reality of the occasion.

On a grey, windswept morning, the rain was beating down outside. Inside, the impact of the downturn was beating down just as hard on the latest people to join the bloated dole queues — the new excess of modern Ireland.

John Swaine, an employee in his 50s who has given more than two decades of service to the firm, was one of the few devastated people willing to talk.

Since 1986, he has worked tirelessly for Smurfit Kappa. Now his job is gone. By his own admission, he is unemployable and unlikely to find work again. Management took just five minutes to tell him.

“Twenty-three years I was working inside there, we were called to a meeting and they just said basically that the downturn in the business was 50% over the last couple of years and that they were left with no option,” he explained to the clutter of cameras outside.

“You suddenly realise you’re unemployable. I’m no different to half the country. Jobs aren’t secure anymore.

“At this stage? Well I suppose it will be hard to get a job, I’m over 50 and the way things are going in this country I don’t think I’m really employable. But many more inside are the same.

“There’s been a big drop in business but I suppose we’re no different to anybody else,” he said.

The scene outside the Togher site was far from unique; the workers leaving knew what they were facing. Cameras, microphones, scribbling notepads, all awaiting expression from people whose lives have been destroyed of how they feel about the news.

Angry faces staring out from cars intent on not stopping seemed to shout back the obvious.

Ger Heaphy, an employee since 2001 and now resigned to reality, was one of a small number to speak the message.

Two kids, a wife, a large mortgage. No job. How do you think he feels?

“I’ve been here for the last eight years, and I’ll have to go looking for a new job. In a recession that’s going to be very hard to do.

“It’s down to the downturn. We knew something was coming but not to this extent. 140 jobs, it’s going to be very hard to find work,” he said.