Let's not talk about Nama - at least at dinner parties, says ISABEL MORTON

NAMA HAS managed to divide our nation into two groups; those who are benefiting from Nama and those who are not.

And, as Nama is the main show in town these days, there are a lot of people employed, either directly or indirectly, by it. I heard from one solicitor who, like many, is excluded from the fold, and bitter and resentful of those who are part of the inner circle.

Nama is like a security blanket, which will keep some of the legal profession wrapped up; safe, warm and protected from the cold, recessionary winds.

With any luck, they’ll manage to stretch it out for a decade or so, until they reach retirement age.

It’s certainly not in their interests to speed up the process.

Indeed, though Nama appears to be the main topic of conversation these days, having hit the headlines rather a lot over the past few weeks with details of daily running costs, staff salaries and consultants fees and how it may have been a little too zealous in its dealings with certain property developers, it’s often a subject best avoided in social chit-chat.

The once smart dinner party set (who have now resorted to kitchen table casseroles) avoid the topic of Nama like the plague.

Invariably, some guests will be inclined to make digs and barbs about the organisation, while others will clam up completely .

I’ve heard that Nama employees are so paranoid about keeping everything that goes on behind its closed doors a secret that they now go out of their way to avoid social events where they will be in “non-Nama” company.

I suppose you can hardly blame them for trying to avoid prying questions from curious people wanting to hear a bit of gossip about well-known public figures.

They must also be sick to the back teeth of those demanding to know how much Nama would be prepared to accept for some of the much publicised repossessed trophy homes.

And, as for casual inquiries about how one might acquire a job within Nama; well, what can they respond to that one, other than to remind the inquirer that discretion is the prime prerequisite, thereby putting an end to that line of enquiry.

Nama issued a strongly-worded statement this week criticising some of the negative press levelled at it and the “significant increase in the number of baseless, critical stories relating to the agency . . . We have seen increased efforts by some parties whose sole agenda seems to be to frustrate Nama in carrying out its responsibilities.”

I would argue that, far from wanting to frustrate Nama from carrying out its responsibilities, many would like it to speed up.

Even charitable organisations who look after the plight of homeless people are due to benefit from some of the stock of unoccupied properties on Nama’s books, although they too were complaining last weekend that their clients still didn’t have a roof over their heads, due to Nama’s tardiness.

Indeed, I believe Nama’s leisurely pace is the cause of much frustration all round, and one might almost feel sorry for estate agents who now heavily rely on Nama for business but find them impossibly slow, pedantic and difficult to deal with.

It’s hard enough to find a prospective buyer these days, let alone one with cash – never mind one with the patience to wait for months on end as the property parcel gets passed around within Nama, where every decision, however small, requires simultaneous rubber-stamping by dozens of employees.

And now we have the distinct possibility that Nama will spend a lot of time in the High Court battling with property developers who believe that Nama has overstepped the mark and abused its powers.

This may result in a tribunal to establish whether or not Nama did in fact, abuse its powers.

Which in turn will then lead to an external audit of Nama books, to establish whether or not Irish taxpayers’ money was spend judiciously.

Which will be followed by a case taken against Nama by the people, who will claim that the organisation cost the nation a fortune and was entirely responsible for delaying Ireland’s economic recovery.

But, if nothing else, the ensuing court battles will require the services of the solicitors currently ignored by Nama – who will, no doubt, enjoy the opportunity to get their revenge.

And Nama will be disbanded and its employees entitled to their golden handshakes, which of course, will cost the country more than Nama ever saved them in the first place.

Isabel Morton is a property consultant