Once upon a time I bought an ex-council house. I loved it so much, it was tiny and cute, the entire row of terraced houses were privately owned. Some of the happiest times of my life. I managed to make a killing on it, and it enabled me to buy a bigger house in a "nice" area.. which again, thanks to the housing markets, let me live in a very desirable "middle class" area
My neighbours on both sides are doctors, one is a surgeon (he's a raging alcoholic and a little bit terrifying, but anyway)
Where I live now, sometimes you can hear the residents talking about the estate I used to live in. It makes me really sad
My medical practice, post office and library are all in the estate.
The problem is - in NI, the Housing Executive deals with issues by moving troublesome people out of towns and into different ones, in the hope that it'll be a fresh start for those people. It never works. They find trouble wherever they go, and the villages lose their identity due to so many "strangers" which, in turn, increases hostility. Seemingly, these poorly behaved strangers are given the new builds and best choices