As Smallbridge and Hurstead prepare to bathe in the golden light of a decade-long £20 million makeover, the people of Middleton have been spotted waving frantically from the edge of the funding cliff, clutching a modest £1.5 million cheque and shouting, “Don’t forget about us!”
In a move dubbed “Pride in Place” by government officials who presumably haven’t visited most of these places after dark, Rochdale MP Paul Waugh has triumphantly written to every resident of Smallbridge and Hurstead, offering them a say in how their suddenly valuable postcode should be polished. Locals are being invited to a community meeting in December, where dreams of bins that aren’t on fire and benches that aren’t also toilets may finally become reality.
“This is a once-in-a-generation opportunity,” declared Mr Waugh, in what sounded suspiciously like the opening of a housing estate brochure. “Local people need to be in the driving seat,” he added, forgetting momentarily that most of them can’t afford to drive.
Meanwhile, over in Middleton, MP Elsie Blundell has been spotted throwing rocks at the Treasury’s windows in a valiant effort to secure slightly more than whatever fell out of the Chancellor’s pockets last time he sneezed.
“We’ve seen millions go to Heywood, Hurstead and Smallbridge, while Middleton’s been left scavenging for scraps like a dog at a picnic,” said Mrs Blundell, whose community meeting reportedly ended in a group therapy session centred on the town’s collective identity crisis.
Despite the disparity, she remains upbeat. “There’s plenty of great ideas in Middleton,” she said, optimistically overlooking the town’s last attempt to refurbish a bus stop using only a half tin of gloss paint and a disused pub sign. “Residents are proud to live here – they just want their parks to have grass again and the high street to stop resembling a post-apocalyptic car boot sale.”
Rochdale Council has promised to “listen to the community,” a phrase historically associated with the slow nodding of officials while actively ignoring everything said. Nevertheless, the Neighbourhood Board, a group that sounds more like an Orwellian tribunal than a planning committee, will apparently give people a genuine say in their town’s future, assuming they survive the meeting without being distracted by the promise of free biscuits.
Locals are encouraged to email their ideas or shout them through the window of the town hall, as long as it’s during office hours and not too windy.
