Letters to the Editor: The irony of Irish citizenship 

'Despite having a job and citizenship, I cannot find affordable housing to maintain a relationship with my children. The numbers tell a devastating story: Average rent in the Republic is now €2,053, while in Belfast it’s just €1,200'. File picture Gerard Mccarthy/GMC

On September 16, I proudly became an Irish citizen. One week later, I wrote to the Government and my local TDs about the housing crisis forcing me to consider leaving the country I just swore loyalty to.

I received only automated responses with protocol numbers.

I am a separated working father. Despite having a job and citizenship, I cannot find affordable housing to maintain a relationship with my children. The numbers tell a devastating story: Average rent in the Republic is now €2,053, while in Belfast it’s just €1,200. Cardiff, a city of 350,000, has more rental properties (3,990) than the entire Republic of Ireland (2,300).

The irony is cruel: Ireland grants citizenship, but cannot provide the basic foundation of a stable life — a home. How many new citizens take an oath one week and contemplate breaking it the next — not by choice, but by necessity?

Behind every housing statistic is a father who cannot have his children visit, a worker who contributes to the economy but is priced out of society, a newly-sworn citizen who feels betrayed.

Ireland deserves better. Its citizens deserve answers, not automated protocol numbers.

Ciro Scognamiglo, Midleton, Co Cork

Real progress

Kilmore Quay, in Wexford, is famous for its rugged beauty and a cultural identity shaped by generations of fishermen. In conversations about its future, the word “progress” has lately been raised, carrying with it the promise of new amenities and connections. But we must ask what progress truly means and at what cost it is pursued. Is progress simply about adding new infrastructure, or is it about enhancing a community’s uniqueness while preserving the very things that make it special?

New developments, from walking trails to larger projects, can be tempting and offer a sense of forward momentum. However, a blind pursuit of these projects can strip a place of its heritage and its natural charm. The allure of Kilmore Quay lies in its authenticity — the traditional thatched cottages, the working harbour, and the stunning presence of the sea and the Saltees. Visitors and residents don’t seek sanitised, clinical environments; instead, they are drawn to places with a soul, a history, and a tangible connection to nature.

True progress shouldn’t come at the cost of our identity. The local community values its heritage and wants to see it preserved. This doesn’t mean Kilmore Quay is opposed to all development; rather, the community is open to projects that are considerate, well-planned, and have the community’s full backing. In the drive to attract tourism, county councils seem to prioritise economic gains, sometimes at the expense of their own policies and the community’s best interests. This is a trend seen across Ireland, not just in our village. Progress ought to be about finding the right balance — enhancing the village without erasing its identity. For example, connecting villages is a noble goal, but a project designed for that purpose should not require one community to sacrifice its unique character for the sake of the connection.

Ultimately, the future of Kilmore Quay should rest on thoughtful decisions that prioritise long-term sustainability over short-term gains. True progress is a collaborative effort — one that respects the land, protects its ecosystems, and honours the heritage at the heart of the village. It’s about building a future where Kilmore Quay remains true to itself, a place whose unique character is not developed away, but celebrated and protected for generations to come.

Aude Bates, Kilmore Quay, Co Wexford

Restrictive democracy

In her letter titled ‘No point moaning if democracy doesn’t deliver’ ( Irish Examiner, Sept 27), Bernie Linnane suggests that those who recently complained of a lack of democracy in the process for achieving a nomination as a presidential candidate, are those who complained of a lack of democracy in the referendum around the Eighth Amendment, and she might be largely right.

Personally, I supported the Eighth Amendment, believing abortion to be a violation of the most basic human right — the right to life. A majority of two to one believed otherwise, and we now have in excess of 10,000 abortions in Ireland every year as a result.

While I have to accept that as being within the law of the land, I continue to hold my belief, irrespective of any majority.

While not wanting to get into a debate around the now-completed presidential nomination process, I believe that, objectively, the process is quite restrictive. Without taking away from any of the individuals concerned, three of the country’s nine presidents have attained office without a vote, while, for various reasons, six of the 14 terms served since 1938 have not been the subject of a contest.

Some might see that as restrictive, others might call it undemocratic.

Rory O’Donovan, Killeens, Co Cork

Kindness of strangers

I had a fall one recent Friday evening while walking my dog in Victoria Cross. I was helped by Conor from Blarney St, his girlfriend, and two young men from the local cafe. They were all very helpful. Once they were sure that I was OK, Conor and his girlfriend accompanied me to my house. A sincere thank you to all four.

Mary Murphy, Victoria Cross, Cork

Irish is presidential

As a new arrival in Ireland from Belgium, I recognise a disturbing pattern in this presidential election.

Growing up as a Flemish speaker, I often heard politicians dismiss our language with “et pour les Flamands la même chose” (“the same for the Flemish”) and we were expected to accept it.

Since settling here with my family, we’ve embraced our cúpla focal and are actively learning more. That makes it all the more shocking to see candidates for Uachtarán na hÉireann treat Irish as an afterthought rather than the first national language. The presidency may be ceremonial, but it is deeply symbolic and should reflect the whole of Ireland, its culture, and heritage.

Just weeks after thousands marched for Irish language rights, how is it acceptable for one candidate to break their decade-long promise to learn Irish, and another to laugh off losing his school Irish with no effort to regain it? Beatha teanga í a labhairt — Irish and Ireland deserve representation.

Peter Elst, Donabate

Post-literate society

I was recently wondering: Are we now living in a post-literate society?

I think it’s probably fair to say that the trend has been coming for quite some time. Anybody who works in education would have noticed this over the years.

It’s reported that some university students seem to have less capacity to critically digest long texts.

They appear to have less attention span, and it’s all because of these things that we carry around in our pockets and hands. Sitting down and reading a text by James Joyce appears to be becoming a little more difficult these days. There is no doubt technology has changed how many of us consume information, from complex pieces of writing to short video clips.

I find the words uttered by the Pakistani education activist Malala Yousafzai to be apposite to the above: “Let us remember: One book, one pen, one child, and one teacher can change the world.”

John O’Brien, Clonmel, Co Tipperary

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