One of the hallmarks of a civilised society is the provision of water for its citizens. Turning the tap, like casting a vote, is symbolic of one's membership of the modern world - taken for granted until it is taken away. But where water is concerned it seems some Dublin citizens are less equal than others.
Take Cabra West, Dublin 7. For several years (at least since 1998 when I moved in), there has been no mains water between half-past midnight and 6.30 a.m. Most people don't believe me when I say this. But friends who have come to dinner and stayed late know that it's true - because after 12.30 you cannot flush the lavatory.
And there have been other, less embarrassing, inconveniences. When I was working nights, I'd get home at 3.30 a.m. and often couldn't make a cup of tea because I had forgotten to fill the kettle before I'd left. Twice, when I had to get to the airport early, I had to shower the night before.
Constituency office
Four years ago, after I realised the problem was not confined to my house, I got in touch with the Corporation's water division - and with the constituency office of the Taoiseach, Bertie Ahern, who is one of the local TDs. You've guessed it, nothing happened. I got no response, not even a letter of acknowledgement.
When I telephoned the water division and expressed concern about house fires, a spokesman gave cold comfort: "Don't worry, there's plenty of water in the hot tap." As for the flush, I was told I should install another tank in the attic. That would take care of it. After a while, the late shifts ended and like so many of my neighbours, I put up and shut up.
But a recent dose of the gastrics drove me back to the telephone. Again I turned to the water division and the Taoiseach for an explanation, for a bit of help. And here's what happened this time.
Brian McKeown, divisional engineer at the water division, told me the two pumps servicing the area were turned off at night. He mentioned "residual pressure", insisting that it should ensure some minimal flow during the night. This has to do with water pressure rising at night when demand recedes - hence less need for pumps, or so the theory goes. Turn them off and in theory the water should keep flowing. Alas, not in Cabra West. Mr McKeown he wasn't convinced there was a nocturnal drought, but he promised to investigate. Call back in a week, he said.
In the meantime, the local Sinn FΘin councillor, Nicky Kehoe, confirmed there had been long-term water problems in the area, despite plentiful representations from TDs and councillors. He maintains the city's supply system needs a radical overhaul costing buckets of money to bring it to a satisfactory standard. But why are the pumps out of action at night? He has no idea, unless it has to do with the factories on Bannow Road and the authority's attempts to curb water wastage.
I've been unable to get a satisfactory answer to that question from anyone. Mr Kehoe accepted that it happened, and theorised, whereas Mr McKeown - and Mr Ahern's office, when I got through to it - seemed baffled, pure and simple.
Other blackspots
Anyway, it seems Cabra West is not the only blackspot although this is not a problem we share with our southside brethren. North-west Finglas, Poppintree, Ballymun and Oakwood in Santry were mentioned by Mr McKeown but he says they are not quite as badly off as those of us in Broombridge, Carnlough, Ventry and Killala - all in Cabra West. Perhaps Finglas et al. enjoy the benefits of "residual pressure". We do not - and we're in part of the Taoiseach's Dublin Central constituency.
When contacted this time, Mr Ahern's constituency office spokesperson immediately sympathised: "That's dreadful. Can you leave it with us and we'll alert the water division, find out what's happening?" I said no. I'd left it with them in 1998 and it was now 2002 and I still had no water in the small hours. There was an apology and a promise that something would be done pronto.
Shortly after I'd put down the phone, two men from Dublin City Council's water division arrived to fit a logging device to the hydrant outside my gate to check the flow. They assured me there should be water throughout the night and put it all down to a block in the lead pipes leading from the gate to kitchen tap. In which case it was my problem, not theirs. When a neighbour appeared on a doorstep saying: "There hasn't been water at night for years," they said they'd alert HQ to the situation.
Then they went hunting for the stopcock and promised to send someone out next day to find it. Sure enough, next day another worker landed with a metal detector to find the stopcock he thought was buried under a bunch of corrugated concrete next to the hydrant. He left, promising a third visit to straighten out the concrete. So things were moving - though not yet the water. There was also a letter signed "Bertie", assuring me the Taoiseach was doing everything he could. Oh, and he said he'd be in touch.
"Interim measures"
Mr McKeown, meanwhile, came up with an "interim measure" to rectify matters. One of the two pumps servicing Cabra West would now operate 24 hours a day, he promised.
That means water. That means at night. But interim? "We're examining the situation and looking at options. We're looking for a long-term solution," said Mr McKeown. His biggest fear is that the pump will break down given its added workload. Not very reassuring and looking very interim.
And then Mr Ahern's constituency office sent the promised follow-up letter, telling me, as if I needed to know, that he was delighted to report the water difficulties had been sorted. It was addressed to the previous house owner.
He and Mr McKeown assured me the concrete-encrusted stopcock would be fixed very soon. It hasn't.
Nevertheless, in Cabra, after years of no water for six to seven hours out of any 24, hope flickers. We have water at night. We wonder nervously: for how long?
The other question, of course, is why something is being done now. Surely not because there's an election on the way?