As Rough Sleeping In Liverpool Spikes, Those On The Streets Are Losing Hope

New government figures show a worrying rise in rough sleeping in Liverpool – for those at the sharp end of this crisis, optimism is in short supply, reports the Liverpool Echo.

“I’m asking for help and I am looking for accommodation, but I am always on a waiting list.” Corinna is 45 and has been homeless and sleeping rough in Liverpool for the past four months. Like many of the city’s rough sleepers, she believes getting somewhere safe to live would be the first step on the journey to turning her life around. “I lost my son to a motorbike accident, he was only 17. I spiralled after that,” explains Corinna. She is speaking to us while sat on the floor close to Williamson Square in the city centre. “Mental health is a really big issue and grief is a strange emotion. I don’t think mental health is discussed enough in this country,” she adds.

Corinna is sadly one of a growing number of people sleeping rough in Liverpool. The latest government statistics show a worrying year-on-year rise in the figures of those being counted in government data. That data shows that in March of 2025, there were a total of 124 people counted as rough sleeping on the streets of Liverpool. A year later, in March 2026, that number had soared to 197 – a worrying 59% increase. The figures show Liverpool is the worst hit council area in the north-west for rough sleeping, with the third highest rate nationally. These numbers clearly stem from a complex and wide-ranging set of factors. Many of those on the streets have difficult situations ranging from deep trauma to addiction or mental health issues that can and have led to their current circumstances.

But another key factor is that Liverpool, like many UK cities, has a housing crisis – with an estimated 14,000 people on the waiting list for social accommodation. Soaring rents and evictions and the complete lack of new social housing being built has led to a perfect storm in recent years. Everyone we spoke to on the streets of Liverpool said they felt that despite their circumstances, getting a place to live could get them back on their feet. However, none felt optimistic about that happening anytime soon.

“I’m asking for help and I am looking for accommodation but you are just on a waiting list,” says Corinna. “I go in every Monday to see where I am up to, but it is a bit tedious waiting all the time. It can be dangerous being a woman on the streets. You have to know where to go and keep yourself to yourself. Some people can be arrogant and rude towards you, but there are plenty of nice people who want to help you as well. I need a property first to sort me out.”

Across the other side of Williamson Square and another woman sits alone, sorting out the few effects she has to her name. She is Jade, she is only 24 and has been homeless since she left care at the age of 16. Like Corinna, she finds herself waiting for somewhere safe to live and is currently on a waiting list for a space at the Ann Fowler House – a supported living centre in the city operated by the Salvation Army.

Speaking about her time on the streets, Jade explains: “My mum was homeless as well. It can be dangerous. I’m used to it now. With coming out younger and my mum knowing people, people have looked out for me on the streets. But even though people have my back, I still find myself in bad situations. I’ve had bottles thrown at me, been swilled with pi**, all sorts.”

Jade said she does engage with services including Liverpool’s main homelessness charity The Whitechapel Centre – and she’s grateful for the help she gets, but nothing can change without a place to live first. “Accommodation is the main thing. You can’t do anything without it, you can’t get a job, you can’t get back on your feet.” The brutal reality of life on the streets has hit hard recently for Jade, with soaring temperatures making things much more difficult. “It has been really tough,” she says. “I would honestly rather it was pi**ing it down. It can be really horrible when you can’t escape the heat.”

Elsewhere in Lord Street, 42-year-old Gary is stood outside a coffee shop asking passers-by for help. Most ignore him. He stands with a dirty duvet hung around his neck. “This is all I have got in the world,” says Gary. “And I can’t put it down because it will get nicked.” At 42, Gary’s story is familiar to anyone who has spent time speaking to those who have ended up on the streets. A sudden change of circumstances can lead to a life that spirals out of control and is extremely difficult to get back on track again.

He explains: “I lost me job, my Mrs f***** me off and I haven’t seen my son in years. I was a brickie and I fell of a ladder and done me knee in and that’s when I lost my job, my relationship and my flat.” Like the others we spoke to, Gary is desperate for a place to live and from which to try and rebuild his life. But he has very little hope. “You just don’t get any help from anyone. People come round and talk to you and say someone will be in touch, but nothing happens. I haven’t even got a phone. I have been waiting for years just to get into a hostel. If I can just get a step back onto the ladder I know I will be sound. I’m not on drugs or anything. I’m just out here because I am on my a***.”

He’s been homeless for eight years and like many in this position has experienced violence, including very recently. Gary shows us his grin, from which several teeth are now missing. “A kid ran past me the other day and just kicked me in the mouth. He knocked my teeth out and ran away laughing.” Of course not everyone is violent, but being ignored by others is nearly as painful, he says. “When you’re on the streets it’s so hard. You become invisible to people, they won’t even look at you or even give you the time of day. I just feel forgotten about now. I might as well be dead now.”