Clive vividly recalls the day he unexpectedly became a kinship carer. It was a moment that caught him completely off guard, leaving him with little time to comprehend the gravity of the situation.
“The social worker left, the door closed, and there was Savannah, peacefully resting in a carry cot, swaddled in a pink blanket. She seemed so serene and completely unaware of the upheaval surrounding her,” he shared. “The house was enveloped in a strange silence, just Savannah and me, along with a small suitcase containing her belongings. I couldn’t hold back my tears. As a teacher, I had never anticipated the challenges of caring for a baby.”
Clive, a primary school headteacher, had received a call from children’s services that day, expecting it to concern one of his students. Instead, it was about his six-week-old niece. The agency was asking if he could take her into temporary care. “I casually replied, ‘Sure, I can arrange a few things, just give me a couple of days,’” he recounted. The response was swift: “No, she needs to come to you today. We’ll drop her off at four o’clock.”
“I hesitated, asking what would happen if I didn’t agree immediately. They mentioned they would have to explore ‘other options,’ which sent me into a panic. I feared she might end up in foster care or be adopted. So, I agreed and decided to handle the consequences later,” he explained.
After arriving home early from work, Clive found himself waiting anxiously for the arrival of Savannah. “It felt surreal; I had never been home at 3:30 PM on a school day before. Social services arrived and delivered her, and that was the beginning of our journey together.”
At the time, Clive was 32 and later admitted he underestimated the impact of his sudden decision. Nearly a decade later, what was intended as a “temporary” arrangement has turned into a permanent one, with Clive now serving as Savannah’s legal guardian while she maintains regular contact with her birth parents. He cherishes their bond, describing it as a touching kinship success story. Savannah still has the pink blanket, though the journey has had its share of challenges.
“I would do it all over again. It’s the best thing that could have happened for my niece. Still, at times, it has felt isolating and exhausting,” he reflected.
Currently, there are over 141,000 children in England and Wales being raised by kinship carers like Clive—typically relatives or close family friends who step in when parents are unable to care for their children, thereby keeping them out of the formal care system.
Despite the critical role kinship care plays—twice as many children are placed with kinship carers as are placed in foster homes—it remains largely unstructured, lacking the legal, financial, and practical support systems that foster care provides. As a result, kinship care often goes unnoticed by policymakers.
Clive’s experience, being pressed to make a life-altering decision in a matter of hours, is not unique. A recent survey from the charity Kinship revealed that 40% of kinship carers had less than an hour to decide about taking on caregiving, while an additional 20% had less than 24 hours.
Alan and Julie, both 65, faced a similar situation, having only 10 minutes to determine whether they would care for their severely disabled grandchild, Ella, then just 10 months old. They had just returned from a holiday when the call from social services came in. “They said, ‘This place closes in 10 minutes. We need to know if you’ll take the child, or she’ll go into local authority care, and you may never see her again,’” Alan recalled. “It was an obvious choice. We agreed immediately, as we would have for any of our grandchildren.”
Making such a rapid decision significantly alters the lives of kinship carers. The effects can be extensive and often not fully recognized at the outset, with official support frequently lacking. Suddenly, there is an additional family member needing care—someone who may have experienced trauma and may have special needs. This situation can place unforeseen pressure on finances, caregiver health, and family dynamics.
Many kinship carers end up leaving their jobs, often at the behest of social services. Clive was anxious about having to give up his career, fearing he wouldn’t be able to manage his mortgage, which could lead to Savannah being placed in foster care. Fortunately, his school provided exceptional support, allowing him to work flexibly; he recalls bottle-feeding Savannah during staff training sessions. He also has a solid support system of friends and family. However, he acknowledges that many kinship carers lack such advantages.
Leasa, 56, and Oly, 57, from Acton in west London, found themselves in a similar predicament after deciding to care for their nephews, Jake and Luke. With their own son at home, they suddenly had five individuals living in their cramped two-bedroom flat, yet they felt unsupported by the council. Oly noted that when he previously inquired about becoming a foster carer, he was told he was ineligible due to the size of his home, yet this concern seemed irrelevant when it came to kinship care. When he approached their housing association about relocating to a larger flat, he received little understanding. “I was told, ‘Why are you making your house overcrowded?’” he recounted.
Leasa and Oly continue to live in their flat, having spent the last five years sleeping on a sofa bed in the lounge, which also serves as a homework area for their nephews. Their situation, while challenging, persists with Oly working to provide for the family.
