[SPCI-4]: "Even the organisations... that were meant to look after the interests of the elderly and the frail, they were useless… No-one spoke up for those without a voice, except their families"

Former BBC journalist, media personality and after dinner speaker Alison Walker on the abhorrent treatment of a family member during the covid era

Apr 19, 2025

Dear Church Leaders (and everyone else)

This is post #4 in a series featuring presentations at the recent Scottish People’s Covid Inquiry (SPCI, as distinct from the official Scottish Covid Inquiry).

This one is from Alison Walker, a former BBC journalist, media personality and after dinner speaker, who talks about the abhorrent treatment of a family member during lockdown. For many years, she was the main sports presenter on the BBC’s Reporting Scotland programme.

I have added just one comment to the transcript below, but it is, I think, an important one.

My parents went into a care home in Glasgow with dementia in August 2015. My Dad had a fairly advanced form of the condition, while my Mum was still relatively okay, but she didn’t want to be separated from him, so she went in with him too.
My family have been living with their diagnosis for a long time… my Dad since 2012, and we’ve learned a great deal. And I’ve spent much of the last 13 years trying to raise awareness about dementia. As many of you know, it’s chronic, but it can be kept relatively stable over a period of time by regular stimulation, reassurance, going out, physical contact from family and friends, familiarity basically connection from what and who they hold dear.
We kept all this going with Mum mainly, as… Dad was in a wheelchair. I took her swimming, walking, out for lunch, out for coffee, out to the park, out for drives. We went visiting. We even went to Wimbledon one year while she was in a care home.
At the best of times, most care homes enable and facilitate decline. I’m not blaming them for this. It’s down to resources, and lack of care and interest from society in general. As my son says, unless your gran is in a care home, nobody cares. If residents are sitting, they’re safe. It doesn’t matter that it might stop them walking in the future.
I’m telling you all this because it’s important for context. When [in 2020] the care home closed down to visitors, to family, to me, I knew the impact it would have on my Mum. I knew the devastating impact it would have on thousands like me and their families. I hoped and hoped it would be short-term. She was deaf, so I couldn’t call her. She didn’t understand technology, so iPads were useless. Physically being there was the only way of connecting with her and my Dad. When face masks appeared it was another nail in the coffin, as she could no longer lip-read and therefore she couldn’t speak anymore. She didn’t see anyone smile for two years. And it went on and on and on.
I offered to volunteer in the care home, to help with everyone, as my work had stopped, and I lived alone so I wasn’t a threat. I was rejected and told there were “confidentiality issues”. I did end up driving some care workers from A to B when they weren't allowed to use buses. I just wanted to help.
A letter arrived in… May 2020 saying my relative was being issued with a DNR [Do Not Resuscitate] notice, not even mentioning her name — no assessment, no consultation, no discussion. Everything was spiraling downwards. Couldn’t they see that this was wrong? No GP visits; no podiatrists; no nurses; no hairdresser; surrounded by folk in masks. My parents must have thought they were part of some gigantic experiment.
Of course I did the through-the-window thing, the through-the-window visiting. I’m still tormented by my Mum crying and pawing at the window pane asking, “Why didn’t I come in?” She didn’t understand and, to be honest, neither did I. Even the garden… there was a table… I had to sit on the other side. There was a big glass screen two metres away. They dragged my Mum away from me as she tried to come to me. It broke my heart.
When a musician came to play in the garden for the residents in the summer of 2020, family were all positioned behind a fence. I mentioned this at the government inquiry. It was like watching animals at the zoo, and being told not to go near, not to shout, not to try and attract their attention.
As testing was ramped up, I thought this might improve things, but it got worse. And the inconsistency of what the care homes were doing was unbelievable. I arrived and was tested… had to wait 20 minutes for it to “be clear”. In the interim I watched as staff came into the care home, took a test, and walked in without waiting for a result. You can imagine how that made me feel.
I wouldn’t wear a mask visiting Mum and Dad because of their communication difficulties relating to hearing and lip-reading. Mum was brought towards me, but when staff saw I didn’t have a mask on they pulled her away. Her arms were outstretched towards me, and I got a lecture from one, and then four more staff members, about how I couldn’t see her because I wasn’t wearing a mask. And “Why wasn’t I wearing a mask?” They didn’t even know it was against the law to even ask that question. So again I left the cure home sobbing.
In January 2021 I received a call to say my Dad was very unwell… in bed and wasn’t picking up… “I’d better come quickly… he’s not in a good way,” they said. I called my brother as there was only one visitor allowed — so I had all that on me. My Dad was lying in his bed. His eyes were grey. His skin was grey. He was glazed over… no movement. It did look really bad.
I stripped off all the PPE and started to chat to him. I put my hand under the cover to hold his hand, and I said “Dad, if you know me, squeeze my hand.” And he did. I stroked his face and his tongue moved. I thought, “He needs a drink.” “Dad, do you want a drink?” And I got a cup, and I dipped my finger into the water and spread it on his lips. And then he put his mouth… and I gave him a sip of water. I firmly believed he’d lost the will to live because of lack of family contact. But, after hearing a familiar voice, he perked up, and after that he lived another three years.
I say this is the power of family and friends. Withdrawing that from those with dementia is a death sentence. I had a friend with a father in a care home in France. And after initial lockdown the ban on family visiting in France was lifted. Families had protested outside the care homes, and the government recognised that, for dementia sufferers, family and visiting was key. It was what the residents lived for — to be with family and friends. France properly balanced the risks in this scenario. They allowed visitors in from May 2020. I thought, “Well, why can’t we do this?” France has recognised the harms of excluding family and those with dementia, so why can’t we follow their lead?
So I ramped up my own personal campaign, using whatever small profile I had, to allow at least one family member in… bombarding social media. I was on the radio talking about it incessantly. I hounded my MP, my MSP, councillors, health and social care boards, public health. Surely they would see that the lockdown impact is much worse than covid itself on care home residents. Let them see they’ve made a mistake, and do something about it.
What did we do in Scotland? We lengthened the lockdown and its severity, and, with only guidance in place, care homes could interpret how they liked, and do as they liked.
My parents were in a care home who couldn’t have been more severe in their approach. I was treated like a pariah, like the enemy. They even locked my Mum up with now-advanced dementia as time progressed. They locked her in a room all alone with advanced dementia as she had symptoms of covid. She was locked in that room for 10 days in 2021… one person allowed in with full infection control uniform. You wouldn’t do that to a dog or a murderer.
Flowers, birthday cards from my brother in New Zealand and Christmas cards… they were quarantined — “Oh, they might be infected”. We were told our dog might bring an infection… never mind the joy he would definitely bring. “Don’t let the new baby come close.” It was a year before my Mum met her first great-grandchild.
Latterly during lockdown, my brother was in a hospice. He was tested, disturbed, traumatised every single day as they tested him for covid. We had to wear full PPE. He was dying. And the final time we did it… we had to be checked before we went in… we missed it… we missed the moment when he died. He was only allowed two people in to see him, so I had to pretend one son was the other one. He was dying. There was no dignity, no sanctuary, no peace. And that haunts me as well, because it was all so unnecessary.
Going back to Mum and Dad… my Mum deteriorated really quite quickly from about a month into lockdown. Staff continued to deny there was any change, but of course no-one could check. I reported her state up the care homes food chain, but they constantly deferred to public health. “It was their rules not the care homes.” I reported to the health and care inspectorate, but they weren’t allowed in to assess my Mum.
Staff were terrified… We were the most frightened country in Europe. The Scottish government did this, backed up by the media. The staff changed from caring, friendly approachable human beings to prison wardens watching my every move. I bet some of them wish they had spoken out.
All that effort, all that campaigning… over a two-year period was for absolutely nothing. Nothing changed. Even the organisations — and this frustrates me so much — that were meant to look after the interests of the elderly and the frail, like Alzheimer’s Scotland, Age Concern Scotland, Mental Health Welfare Commission… they were useless… did nothing. We were deafened by their silence. No-one spoke up for those without a voice, except their families.

During the covid era, how many people were actually speaking up for those without a voice? In churches or anywhere else? And how many people are speaking up for those without a voice now?

Aside from the epilogue, these are the final words of the Bible’s book of Proverbs:

Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.

Out of lockdown, which went on much longer for care home residents than other members of society, my Mum had lost the ability to speak. She didn’t know my name. Her ability to make sense had gone. The dementia had really kicked in. She was anxious and scared, her mobility severely compromised. With dementia, you never get any of that back. The window of opportunity that I’d really worried about, that I’d feared would happen, had closed.
Those making the decisions were aware of the harms from early 2020, but no-one in those positions stood up for those without a voice. They just let those harms continue. Unwilling or unable to take action — which was it? Where were the human rights organisations… mental health organisations? Where was adult protection? What happened to power of attorney? Where were referrals and investigations as to what was going on? This could have and should have been better, and we could have avoided some of the atrocities that took place.
A friend who’s a radical practitioner, Valerie Nelson, also a mental health nurse, a mental health social worker… she succinctly put these thoughts in a piece that she wrote, and this was her question: “Why did the health and social care workforce cave to politically-motivated policies with no evidence base?”
What happened to our normally-robust legal framework, professional standards and codes of ethics, not to mention common sense? I can’t remember who said this, but a true measure of any society can be found in how it treats its most vulnerable members. I’ll leave that out there for those who made the catastrophic decisions, and also direct it to those who did nothing nothing — nothing — to challenge those decisions. So that’s my story. Thank you for listening.

An 9-minute interview featuring Alison Walker can be found here: