I Bought a House to Rent Cheap to Families Who Were Struggling. Nobody Warned Me How Hard Kindness Would Be

A reader writes:

I drove a bus in London for thirty-one years. Route after route, early shift, late shift. When I retired and came back to Jamaica with my wife, we had our own house paid off and a little pension, and a bit more saved than we needed. I prayed about what to do with it, and what kept coming to mind were the families I grew up with who spent their whole lives renting one room behind somebody else’s house, moving every time the rent went up.

So I bought a small two-bedroom house in a scheme not far from us. Nothing fancy. Zinc roof over a concrete ceiling, small yard, a lime tree. My idea was simple: rent it for much less than the going rate to a family who needed a break, and let them stay as long as they needed. I thought I was being a blessing. I didn’t think much further than that.

The first family was a young mother with three children whose husband had left. The church told me about her. She cried when I showed her the house, and I went home feeling ten feet tall. For about four months everything was lovely. Then the rent started coming late. Then half. Then there was a month with nothing and no word. When I went round, the mother’s brother was living there too, and his friend, and a car I didn’t recognise was in the yard. I didn’t know what to say. I had told myself I was not going to be like the landlords I remembered, shouting at people at the gate. But I also couldn’t pretend I didn’t see.

We sat on the verandah and talked. It came out that she’d lost her job at the supermarket and was too ashamed to tell me. The brother had nowhere else. I said I would wait, and I did, and she caught up some of it. But when she left a year later there was a good few months still owing, a broken toilet, and a door that had been kicked in at some point. I never got the money. I told myself it didn’t matter, but I will be honest: I was angry for a while, and more angry at myself for being so soft that I didn’t even have a proper written agreement.

My wife, who is a lot more practical than me, said, “Winston, you can’t help anybody if you go broke doing it.” That stung, but she was right. Before the second family came in, I went to see an attorney and got a proper tenancy agreement drawn up. We wrote down the rent, the date it was due, who was going to live there, and what would happen if things got difficult. I also started putting a little of every month’s rent aside for repairs, because I had learnt that roofs and water pumps do not care how good your intentions are.

The second family has been there five years now. The husband does security work, the wife does hair from home, and they have two boys. The rent is still low, but it comes, and when it can’t come on time they tell me before, not after. When the water tank started leaking, the husband helped me fix it and wouldn’t take anything off the rent for it. Last Christmas the older boy knocked on our door with a card he made himself thanking “Mr Winston for our house.” I am not ashamed to say I kept it in my Bible.

I want to be fair about the money, because I think people imagine this as either a great investment or a great sacrifice, and it is neither. After repairs, insurance and taxes, I don’t make much. Some years nothing. If I had rented it at the full rate I would be better off, and some of my friends think I am foolish. One of them told me I am “spoiling the market.” I don’t think so. I think I am just using what God gave me in a way that lets me sleep.

What surprised me most is how much it changed me. I used to think being generous meant giving things away and forgetting about them. Now I think it means staying involved, having hard conversations, and still being kind afterwards. There is a verse in Leviticus about not being harsh with a brother who has become poor, and I read that very differently now. Kindness without any structure nearly made me bitter. Structure without kindness would have made me just another landlord.

I am seventy-two now and I have started to think about what happens to the house when I am gone. My children in England don’t want the trouble. I don’t know yet. But I wanted to write this because I know there are other people like me, back home with a little something, wondering if they could do some good with a house. You can. Just go in with your eyes open, your papers in order and your heart ready to be disappointed and blessed in the same year.

— Winston, Clarendon

Editor’s note

Winston’s letter holds two lessons that often get separated. The first is that generosity with property is possible, and can change lives on both sides of the tenancy. The second is that good intentions still need good paperwork: a written agreement, clear expectations, and money set aside for repairs protect the tenant as much as the owner. Anyone considering something similar would be wise to talk to an attorney-at-law about the tenancy and to an accountant about the finances, and, as Winston is now doing, to think early about what will happen to the property in the long term. A will and a plan for who manages it are part of the kindness too.

This article is general information only and is not financial, legal, tax or other professional advice. Please speak to a qualified professional about your own circumstances.

Reader letters may be edited for length and clarity, and names and identifying details are changed.

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