Supporting people isn’t just a job for Kisharon’s care staff, but a passion.

With a non-verbal 12-year-old son with autism, caring is ‘already part of me,’ says Team Leader Adekunle Adeagbo. Sarian Johnson, a Key Worker, sees the roots of her job in her childhood relationship with a learning disabled cousin, while Support Worker Eric Siriboe’s future was mapped out following his own traumatic experiences as a member of staff at St Lawrence’s psychiatric hospital in Caterham, Surrey.

Adekunle, left, proud to be the first of Kisharon’s support staff to have a Covid vaccination, says the ultimate job satisfaction is knowing those in his care are happy.

Back at work once after being off sick, Rafi showed such delight to see him that Ade was left wondering ‘whether he was supporting Rafi, or Rafi was supporting me.’

Those he supports show great affection, Ade says. And no wonder. One of those he cares for was discharged to him after five years in a hospital setting. This man has made huge progress in supported living and is now enjoying a taste of independence.

And the parents of another individual had their first holiday in 25 years after he moved to supported living with Ade at the helm. He said: “There were challenges at the beginning for this man and then we understood his medical needs.”

Ade, Sarian and Eric expressed gratitude at the support they enjoyed from Kisharon management. Even Chief Executive Richard Franklin is in regular contact. “Emotionally, psychologically you never feel you’re in it alone. Everyone will rally round. You never feel you’re left in a boat,” Sarian said.

Seeing people with learning disabilities looked after well and the admirable work ethic of support staff brought Sarian to Kisharon. “For me it’s all about seeing people actualise their dreams. People come in needing lots of support and just seeing them lead a good life ticks all the boxes for me.”

A key worker to Jessica, Sarian, right,  came to Kisharon from a residential care unit for young people.

“Looking back I realise now that my interest and passion in learning disabilities stemmed from my relationship with my cousin, Lucy. We really gelled, a strong bond, a connection. I could understand her needs.” Lucy now grown up, is living in Nigeria.

Eric, below, is now in his ninth year at Kisharon, a far cry from his job at St Lawrence’s, known at one time as the Metropolitan Imbecile Asylum.

“Men and women were accommodated in the same room and were all lined up for a bath. When it came to meals, they had to eat what they were given. There was no choice and their treatment was shameful. It was awful.”

The hospital closed in 1994 and afterwards Eric experienced the dramatic improvement in patients’ lives once in a community setting.

“Then, people were treated as individuals and with respect. Looking back I’m very glad I saw what was happening there and how things have changed.”

Eric appreciates the gratitude shown by the people he supports. “They always say ‘thank you’” he says.

“Just recently I went to Montpelier Rise – I hadn’t been there for a while – and one of the men came to the office and said: ‘Eric I miss you.’ He’s non-verbal and doesn’t really speak. That broke my heart. It was really something.

“At the end of the day I like to go home knowing I’ve done something to make life normal for the people I support.”