Single mother Anna Selby explains how asking the Child Support Agency for help can be an exercise in futility

In 1997, New Labour promised a swift and far-reaching reform of the hopelessly inefficient Child Support Agency. In the last few weeks, a series of new agency disasters have come to light - including writing off £2 billion of absentee parent debt that their children will never receive; and a debacle over a missing new computer system, due to have started last April and now at least £50 million over budget. Far from getting better, things have only got worse.

I know this only too well from first-hand experience. My own relationship with the CSA began in February 2000 when my son was seven. Although his father was head of media studies at a university, he had never given any financial support. Now, though, with expenses rising every year, I felt it was time for a contribution. I wrote, but, receiving no reply, I reluctantly turned to the CSA.

A delaying game
My reluctance was due to the many reports I'd heard of the tortuous and mystifying procedures of the agency - it made Kafka's Castle sound like child's play. Nevertheless, without an alternative, I dived in. The first thing to strike the uninitiated is how painfully slow the processes are. The CSA doesn't act unless you chase - and often not then either.

This is all very useful for fathers - and it is almost always fathers - who want to delay. In our case, my son's father replied at the very end of the three-month time limit to - to my astonishment - dispute paternity. He then took six months to get around to a blood test, explaining to the CSA that he'd had a two-month holiday in the US and then missed an appointment. No problem for the CSA. We finally got confirmation of paternity in December 2000, ten months after my initial contact with the agency.

At this point, the agency finally made an assessment of a suitable financial contribution for my son. This is a complex and lengthy procedure and as soon as it had reached a conclusion, it suddenly and unaccountably moved the case to another CSA office. This was a pattern that was to be repeated five times, always without an explanation - and, of course, without any payment.

Dashed hopes
In the summer of 2001, my file had found its way to Hastings, where I had at last found a case officer who was determined to see we received the maintenance due to us, as well as the substantial arrears that had built up.

It was on my son's school sports day when she called me to say that the CSA was to enforce a deduction from earnings order (automatically deducting an amount from the father's salary) of a reasonable weekly sum, plus the arrears. Two weeks later the case moved to Dudley, the order was never enforced and, needless to say, no payment was made.

In the meantime, my son's father, realising that delaying tactics would not work forever, decided instead to change his circumstances. He trebled his mortgage and went part-time, halving his salary. When Dudley got around to enforcing the order in December 2001, he promptly walked out of his job altogether. With no income, the CSA said, it could not press for payment either for current maintenance or for the £10,000 arrears we were now owed.

My case is not unusual. The CSA has many stories of irresponsible fathers who duck and dive to avoid supporting their children. What was unusual in my case was that it had been handled so badly by the CSA that the agency had virtually abetted the scheme of payment avoidance. Had it not moved our case from Hastings, we would have been receiving payment for over a year by now.

No further advances
The case officers at Dudley were so appalled and embarrassed they suggested a little-known procedure, known as an advance. This is something the CSA tends to keep quiet. It entails the agency paying you a proportion of your arrears if it has grossly mishandled a case. A delighted case officer called me to tell me I'd be receiving a payment of £3,000 plus, then, two weeks later, that I wouldn't.

Apparently, there are seven criteria a case has to fulfil (mostly about the CSA's conduct) in order to qualify for an advance. Mine fulfilled six - but there was a quibble over the seventh. That turned out to be whether the father would have paid had the CSA done everything by the book. This is the most bizarre twist in the tale yet - given that the purpose of the CSA's existence is to reclaim money from fathers who, otherwise, do not voluntarily support their children.

Even more appalled and embarrassed than before, my case officers suggested I write to the chief executive of the CSA, asking him to overturn the advance decision and appoint an independent case examiner to go back to the beginning and sort out the whole sorry saga. Nothing much changes at the CSA, though. That was two months ago - I've still not heard.

Have you had dealings with the CSA? Tell us about your experiences