I moved my super.
I invested in homes.
Here's why.

I remember driving to Elizabeth — a northern suburb of Adelaide — with my brother. It was to be his first home after his accident. We'd waited months in the queue just to look at a property. That phone call had filled us with excitement.

What we found was a retrofitted semi-detached home with a wonky ramp and bars on the windows. No air-conditioning. No secure parking. No gate. Open to the street.

For someone with a spinal injury — for whom temperature regulation is no longer automatic — no air-conditioning in Adelaide, where summers regularly hit 40–46°C for weeks, wasn't a minor inconvenience. It was a safety issue.

The next home had an open paddock behind it — cheap land. Break-ins became routine. A neighbour's dog could clear the fence. Every time my brother left the house, it was raided.

The day I arrived to check on the house — just three hours after he'd left to take our Mum out for her birthday — the front door was ajar. That day, among the things taken, was our recently deceased father's signet ring.

After eighteen months, he moved back to the country. Five and a half hours from his spinal specialists. He chose safety over medical access. That's what the housing system had given him.

Specialist Disability Accommodation has come a long way since then. I invested in SDA because I know what it looked like before — and I know what it can be now.