FOR MORE than a decade, my mum has been an unpaid carer for my grandparents.

This means that my mum has forgone the usual 9 to 5, and has dedicated herself to ensuring my nan and bampa (grandmother and grandfather) are cared for, in good health, and their every need is provided for.

Growing up, I never really understood what my mum’s role was as a carer. “Didn’t she already care for Nan and Bampa?” I would ask myself. That was until the pandemic hit, and I became the carer for my bampa.

I realised that caring for someone and being a carer are two very different things. While the former is something we all do, as there’s always someone we care about, being a carer transcends that. It means being on duty 24 hours a day. It means needing to spring into action, regardless of your own health. It means having to stay on top of a loved one’s medications, ferrying them to and from the doctors, often having to be the translator for whenever nan or bampa’s hearing goes. It means having to make £83 a week last a whole seven days for the person you care for, and you. Throw an entire family on top, and that ever-decreasing allowance dwindles next to nothing.

In the time that I was a carer, my mental health had hit rock bottom. I was anxious all the time, worrying about whether my bampa had enough to eat, enough to drink, did I give him the right tablets on the right day, was he feeling happy?

For an entire year, my life became completely focused on how he was, and whether I was good enough to ensure his needs were taken care of. I had put on weight from stress eating, and any leisure time with friends over Zoom had vanished, as at a moment’s notice, I would need to rush off to perform my duties.

I want to make it clear: I don’t regret being a carer for my bampa. It was a privilege providing love and support for the man that had been like a second father to me my entire life. But that didn’t mean it was without its struggles. And I realised, if I had experienced all of this from just a year, then my mother was the strongest person I have ever known. She took this responsibility on for over 10 years of her life, selflessly giving her life to maintaining the wellbeing of her parents.

It breaks my heart to see successive governments only paying lip service to unpaid carers. They provide a duty to the nation that has never been sincerely acknowledged, by way of an allowance increase or easier access to mental health and lifestyle support.

Instead, all the government feels they’re worth is £83 a week.