On a mild September evening in Burgess Hill, a small town in West Sussex, the quiet streets outside the old Firgrove care home erupted into something entirely unexpected. More than a hundred people gathered on Keymer Road, some carrying placards, others shouting, some simply watching in confusion and concern. The building itself stood silent, its windows dark, its doors locked, a former place of comfort and care that had closed in 2021. But despite its stillness, it had become the centre of a storm. Social media had ignited with rumours—spread mainly through local Facebook groups—that the property was going to be converted into a House in Multiple Occupation, an HMO, for asylum seekers. The claim travelled fast, faster than the truth, and before long, fear and anger had taken hold. People came out to protest what they believed was happening. Others came out to counter-protest, standing against racism and misinformation. The scene was tense but, thankfully, peaceful in its own way, watched over by Sussex Police officers who kept the two sides apart. It was a moment that revealed how quickly a community can be divided by a story that simply wasn’t true. But it also revealed something else: the deep anxieties that exist around immigration and asylum accommodation, and how easily those anxieties can be triggered when people feel left in the dark about changes in their neighbourhood.
The owners of the former care home were shocked by what unfolded. In a statement issued after the protests, they strongly condemned the social media users who had spread what they called “unfounded and baseless” claims. The reality, they explained, was very different from the rumour. Firgrove, after closing as a residential care home, had come under new ownership. It was no longer managed by the old Firgrove care home group. Instead, the property had been leased to a prospective care home operator, and the intention was to use it as a children’s care home. There had been no application to change the planning use of the building, and the current owners stressed that they would maintain its status as a care home. They were refurbishing the building in order to continue serving the community, not to house asylum seekers. The statement was emphatic: “It was never my intention to use the property as HMO but to continue providing care to the community.” The owner went further, expressing disbelief that such an idea had taken root, especially because the planning department had never been consulted about any such use, a fact that was public knowledge. They described the protests as unjustified and baseless, noting that the false claims were causing a great deal of distress to innocent people and delaying the development of the site into a modern care facility.
Official responses backed up the owner’s account. Sussex Police, who were present throughout the demonstrations, confirmed they were attending a lawful protest and counter-protest on Keymer Road. Around 150 people had been involved, they said, and there were no reports of injuries. There was, however, one arrest: a 58-year-old man from Brighton was held after failing to remove a scarf covering his face, in line with conditions imposed on the protest. He was later released on bail while enquiries continued. The situation, police indicated, had remained largely under control, but the presence of officers was necessary to prevent tensions from escalating. Mid Sussex District Council also issued a statement, clarifying that Firgrove was a privately owned property and that the council had not received any planning application, change-of-use application, or formal submission relating to the site. They said they were not aware of any proposals for its use beyond what the owners had already stated. The UK Home Office, which would be responsible for any asylum accommodation, was contacted for comment, as was local MP Alison Bennett. But for all the attention, there was no evidence that the building had ever been earmarked for asylum seekers. The rumour, it seemed, had grown out of nothing more than speculation, shared and reshared until it felt like a certainty in the minds of many.
The human cost of that misinformation is not easy to measure. For the property owners, the experience was one of frustration and hurt. They had inherited a care home that had served vulnerable people, and their plans involved continuing that legacy, caring for children in need. Instead of being able to proceed quietly with refurbishment and preparation, they found themselves at the centre of a public spectacle, accused without foundation of something they had never considered. Their statement spoke of the distress caused to innocent people, and that distress was not limited to the owners. Staff involved in the project, contractors, and even local residents who supported the care home felt the weight of the false allegations. The delay to the development was real, and it meant that children who might have benefited from the facility would have to wait longer. There is a painful irony in the situation: a building that was meant to be a place of safety and support became the site of anger and division, all because of claims that no one had bothered to verify. In an age where information is available at the touch of a button, where fact-checking is easier than ever, the rumours still spread. It is a reminder that technology does not automatically bring clarity. Sometimes, it simply gives our fears a louder voice.
The protests themselves reflected a broader national conversation about immigration and asylum, one that is charged with emotion and complexity. Those who gathered to oppose the alleged plans carried concerns about housing, resources, and the pace of change in their community. These are not feelings that should be dismissed lightly. People worry about pressures on local services, about the character of their neighbourhood, and about decisions being made without their knowledge. At the same time, the counter-protesters, including groups such as Stand Up To Racism, were there to defend the dignity of asylum seekers and to oppose the spread of misinformation. They argued, rightly, that targeting a children’s care home based on false rumours was harmful and unjust. It is possible to understand both sides in the sense that everyone wants what is best for their community, but it is also important to anchor those desires in reality. A fair and humane society does not turn away from the suffering of others, nor does it allow fear to dictate how we treat the most vulnerable. The truth in this case was that the building was not going to be used for asylum accommodation at all. The protest, however sincere some of the participants were, was based on a lie. That does not make the underlying anxieties disappear, but it does mean that the energy of the protest was misdirected.
Looking back on that evening in Burgess Hill, what stands out is not just the misinformation itself, but how quickly it moved from a whisper to a certainty. Facebook groups became echo chambers, where one person’s suspicion was repeated until it sounded like fact. The planning system, which is open and transparent, had no record of any proposed change of use, but that did not stop the story. In the aftermath, there has been an opportunity for reflection. The owner’s call for the matter to be clarified in the public interest was a plea not just for their name to be cleared, but for a more careful approach to sharing information. Local authorities, police, and elected representatives all have a role to play in ensuring that communities are informed and engaged before tensions escalate. If people feel they have been kept in the dark, rumours will fill the void. The lesson from Firgrove is that communication is not a luxury; it is a necessity. But there is also a deeper lesson about compassion. The building was intended to care for children, many of whom may have experienced trauma and instability. They deserved better than to be caught up in a storm of falsehoods. And the community itself deserved better than to be manipulated by posts that had no basis in reality. In the end, the old care home will hopefully reopen as a modern facility, serving the people it was always meant to serve. But the memory of that September evening remains, a reminder of how fragile trust can be, and how important it is to seek the truth before we take a stand.