Cotmanhay is a suburb of Ilkeston for which there are a couple of very accurate descriptions posted.
As a member of the emergency services, I often get called out to the frequent stabbings, beatings and incidences of alcohol fuelled domestic violence there.
A popular place to hang out after midnight is the pub car park on Skeavingtons Lane, which has a good smooth surface for pulling donuts in the Cavalier or Escort they’ve just nicked to get home from a night of largin’ it in Nottingham or Derby.
Picture this, it’s 1:30 am. There are little kids 7 or 8, maybe less running about on the street, obese teen ********* (mothers?) ******* out of bedroom windows yelling “Gerrin ere now yer likkle fookin bastudz!”
Motorbikes, most likely nicked too, being driven around at high speed by 13 year olds without lights or crash helmets (funny thing is unfortunately, they never seem to manage to **** themselves), and bands of Tenants Super Strength fuelled Neanderthals roving around looking for similar groups to engage in combat.
Cotmanhay even by Ilkeston standards is a seriously scary place, a decaying rabbit warren of dark alleys in which the **** can replicate. Even the local Social office is like a fortress with a 10 foot high wire security fence around it. You could liken it to the similarly lawless days of the Wild West, but at least they had a certain charm and character.
I have a theory, that from the sixties these people have been encouraged to breed by benefits and subsidies from successive Governments to be used as cannon fodder in what was considered to be the inevitable war with the Soviet Union. As any observer of European soccer will appreciate, it is easy to incite these ne’er-do-wells to acts of extreme violence, especially where foreigners are involved.
Thankfully the threat of World War Three has receded leaving the ****’s original purpose, i.e. stopping an AK47 bullet or being blown to bits on the battlefields of Northern Europe unfulfilled. ***** or War, both destroy our towns and cities, tough choice.