ABOUT

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Hello, and welcome to the Ignoramus Abuse website.

My name is Andrew Wardle, and five years ago, on November 2012, I was forced to attend what was supposed to be a two year Work Programme with Ingeus (UK) Ltd.

Instead, the bullying, harassment, threatening behaviour and abuse to which I was subjected was so severe that I was forced off the Programme before I had even completed a year, and even the 11 months I did have was totally worthless as the management persecuted me and denied me access to a suitable employment adviser.

My case has now progressed through every complaints investigation possible, it has been aired in the county court and the High Court, and it seems inevitable that it will now reach the Court of Appeal


Ingeus (UK) Ltd has now wasted over £100,000 in unrecoverable legal expenses just to stop one innocent victim having access to the Work Programme. THIS WASTEOMETER WILL BE UPDATED ON AN ONGOING BASIS.

Ingeus (UK) Ltd has wasted over £100,000 in unrecoverable legal costs, just to persecute and destroy one innocent human being’s life. On top of that, its corrupt chief executive’s office has now resorted to criminal activity and the bribing of police officers in order to try to stop my legal crusade. There have now been three separate legal actions arise from the maltreatment I was subjected to, and two are yet to complete.

I should just point out that I had to deal with the Department for Work and Pensions for eight years, and never had a single problem of any kind. Not even the slightest argument or cross word. As soon as I was sent to Ingeus (UK) Ltd, all hell broke loose and my life was torn down and completely destroyed.

This organisation is totally unfit to be carrying out the government’s Work Programme, for which the innocent, defrauded taxpayer is paying the bill.

ingeus-northampton
The Ingeus Northampton site, where Andrew Wardle was subjected to protracted maltreatment, abuse and degradation over a two-year period

The Purpose of Ignoramus-Abuse.org

This site has two purposes. Firstly, it is my site, on which I outline my own sickening maltreatment and abuse at the hands of Ingeus (UK) Ltd’s management and chief executive’s office. Secondly, it is everyone else’s site, and I share what I have learned in the hope that it may help someone else avoid what I have had to live through in the last five years.

What can I do to help?

As a citizen of this country, you can write to your Member of Parliament and make them aware of how privatised Work Programme providers are squandering public funds in an orgy of thuggery, abuse and maltreatment of unemployed people.

You can make them aware that the corrupt CEO of Ingeus (UK) Ltd, Jack “Bent Lawyer” Sawyer, has squandered over £100,000, which ultimately came from the public purse, just to persecute and abuse one innocent human being who wanted to be provided with adequate work-related support. Sawyer has also used public funds to bribe corrupt police officers into assaulting and falsely imprisoning an innocent victim who dared to speak up against the outrage.

The Work Programme isn’t working. It needs to be abolished. Even if it not abolished, scum “organisations” such as Ingeus (UK) Ltd who abuse it to rob the public need to be taken down and destroyed. For good.

If you wish to, you can also donate towards the upkeep of the site. I will shortly be adding cryptocurrency tips jars, but for now you can contact me through the Contact Page and I will be happy to accept your cheque.

A Little Light Relief

Even a site like this cannot be negative all the time. In September 2016, I wrote a song about Ingeus (UK) Ltd and its management. The song is called “I Used To Have A Brain Cell”, it has 21 verses, and the lyrics are published below –

INGEUS (UK) LTD COMPANY SONG
“I USED TO HAVE A BRAIN CELL”
Lyrics copyright Andrew Wardle September 2016

Oh, I used to have a brain cell, many years ago.
I used to have a brain cell, though everyone would know,
Because my little brain cell, it would make me frown,
Every time I’d try to sit down.

When they outsourced the bullying from the DWP,
I decided that a brain cell was no further use to me,
So I flushed it down the U-bend, round and round it went,
And I joined the Ignoramus management.

I used to have a brain cell, now I’ve got a void.
I don’t need a brain cell to bully the unemployed!
As long as you’re sadistic and as long as you are bent,
You can join the Ignoramus management.

I can terrorise old ladies, I can pull the legs off frogs,
I can frighten little children, and torture harmless dogs.
I’ve got all the raw material for an Ignoramus great,
All topped off with a seething dose of hate.

When an unemployed person needs help, I laugh in his face!
I make his problem so much worse, I’m a chuckling disgrace.
Then I lie to the regulator to cover up for what I’ve done,
Oh! The Ignoramus management has such fun!

But the regulators love me, for my wicked ways,
So I’ll stay at Ignoramus for a few more working days.
Then I’ll get a lovely bonus from the taxpayer we love to rob,
And retire to the Caribbean! Who needs a job?

Oh, but someone found my brain cell and brought it back to me,
So my job at Ignoramus, it’s now history.
I’m too over-qualified, too intelligent to save,
So they buried me in the Ignoramus grave.

I wandered ’round central London, buried in despair.
As a lowly unemployed person, Ignoramus would be a nightmare!
But I learned such evil ways in Ignoramus management,
That I hid my brain cell and entered Parliament.

We can’t pay the Department for Work and Pensions to help people find jobs,
But we can take lovely backhanders from unscrupulous yobs.
We scratch Ignoramus’s back and they scratch ours as well,
Who cares if the unemployed are tortured in hell?

Why does something that can do the job, outsource to something that can’t?
Are this country’s leaders as mad as my giddy aunt?
No! We’ve just got total derision for this nation and its flag,
And prefer notes stuffed in an old brown paper bag.

So our constituents are suffering, do we give a fig?
No! We’ve paid ourselves a bonus, so we’re dancing an Irish jig!
By the time you report to us our statutes and their breach,
We’ll be lying on a Mediterranean beach.

But, have no fear my British people, for we will all return,
We need more cash to launder, more graft we have to earn.
When the Ignoramus management needs a contract at your expense,
We’ll be back to steal your pounds, your shillings, and pence.

Though the Demoness of Grantham may be long dead and gone,
In resource dissipation, her legacy lives on.
When there’s nothing left to privatise, and we begin to seethe,
We’ll privatise the air and charge you to breathe.

Now even Britain’s street lamps are going out one by one,
When the last dying ember flickers, t’will be Britain’s setting sun.
Put a shilling in the meter, and the light will come shining through,
If Britain had a shilling, that’s what it would do.

But Parliament’s beer money keeps flowing from the tourists we love to fleece,
There’s a question they keep asking, the asking will never cease.
Why we use the old tin kettle for pouring out the tea?
It’s so this country has a pot left in which to pee.

Now, I have to tell you gravely, as has happened twice before,
This wonderful old country is embroiled in a World War.
Oh, we’d love to save this country, but its money’s all been spent,
Subsidising Ignoramus management.

We can’t buy tanks for the Army, or ships for the boys in blue,
Our Royal Air Force can do nothing, in defence of you.
For, we’ve spent it all on Rollers and mansions down in Kent,
For our mates in the Ignoramus management.

Aye, the British bulldog spirit has always seen us through,
But Ignoramus break men instead of make men, so it will no longer do.
Blame it all on Wasteminster, its corruption sick and vile,
And bullying in the Ignoramus style.

First, we destroy the economy, so no-one can get a job,
Then, we dehumanise each person, as if a brainless yob.
Look into Britain’s eyes, and you’ll see there’s no-one there,
A once proud, productive country, all gone spare.

So, our defeat seems certain, slaves for a thousand years,
Our children’s future tainted, with a billion mournful tears.
The dictator’s dirty jack-boot, the oppressor’s filthy smell,
Nearly as vile as the Ignoramus hell.

But…..But…But…But…But…But…But –

There’s one verse left.

There’s one verse left!

But…..Britain’s new finest hour, was never in doubt you see,
My brain cell had an idea, which guaranteed us victory!
For, there’s no defence to poison, when you decide to vent…..
The venom of the Ignoramus management!

So, there you are!