I love the flats. I pay £40 a week to the corporation to live here. My grandson lives with me. His daddy's dead, and he hates the flats. One of the worst things is the noise. Come five o'clock in the morning they come to life. They're sleeping all day and they're up all night. There were drugs in the eighties, but it was never as bad. In the eighties they'd go into their own homes. Now it's open. I make sure they keep off our stairs.

My grandson's fairly artistic and he's mad into the guitar. He's in a band, and Keith, who lives with us, plays the drums. There's 53 girls in the flats involved in the majorettes. I've been over in the women's centre for seven years. I'm always doing something, fund-raising for the majorettes or working in the centre.

Things are grand in our blocks. They need to get rid of the bad tenants, the drug pushers. The corporation are trying their best. It's only if the people get in behind them. I'd like to see the bad blocks going.

I don't know what the solution is. Sometimes I just say I'd love a house out of here, and then I think I'm here in the city centre where everything's happening.

When I moved in here 32 years ago I was an outsider coming from Ballyfermot. There are hardly any people left from those days. Most of the old people have had to move out, some of them heartbroken to be leaving their flats.

There are too many ways in and out of here. One solution would be to block off all the entries. And they should really come down on the undesirables.

Since Josie Dwyer was killed the dealers are really rubbing it in now because they know the vigilantes aren't doing anything. Sometimes you'd say to yourself the police know the drug situation is contained in Fatima Mansions.

Anyone who lives here that's working never seems to hear anything good about the flats. I love my flat. We've loads of space. It'll be the last straw if I have to leave it.