The Scheme, a TV documentary of life on a Kilmarnock estate, has already been dubbed Scotland's Shameless. But what's life really like there?

GEORGE Buchan remembers well the days when Onthank's ambassadors were not afraid to voice their pride. It was the summer of 1964. Newly married, Buchan thought the Ayrshire community was the ideal place to raise a family with his wife, Margaret.

• Some of the cast of The Scheme. Picture: Complimentary

"The thing I remember most of all is the gardens," he recalls. "Everyone kept their front yard immaculate. The lawns were always trimmed, and around this time of year the plants would be flowering. It was respectable."

In the end, the local authority housing department ushered the couple away to another estate – only a mile or two east, but far enough removed to recognise the changes the next four decades would bring.

They still visit Onthank. Today, they are picking up their two Skye terriers from a dog grooming salon in Tourhill Road. On other days, they will drop in on Mr Buchan's brother, Malcolm, who stays a few streets away. The trips, however, are only fleeting.

"Forty years have made a big difference," Buchan, 67, reflects. "It was good then. You knew you had a good neighbour, but now, decency and respect are out the window. The only way my brother gets on in a place like this is by keeping himself to himself. He's one of the decent folk who are caught up in it."

That elusive "it" is the focus of a new four-part BBC series which started last night. Billed as a fly-on-the-wall documentary, The Scheme aims to capture the lives of six families in Onthank, a housing estate to the north-west of Kilmarnock.

Already, the programme has been christened as "Scotland's Shameless", given its focus on individuals struggling to overcome myriad social problems. The launch programme, for instance, told the story of the Cunninghams, a family with Gordon, a reformed alcoholic, as its patriarch, struggling to prevent his children from repeating his mistakes.

Also featured was Marvin Baird, a reformed heroin addict intent on starting a family with his teenage girlfriend, Dayna, only to be arrested for drug possession.

The reach of idle gossip means that most folk in Onthank already know, or know about, people such as Gordon and Marvin. But nearly all will have tuned in last night. Not to steal a glimpse of individuals they pass on the street, but to gauge whether their lives – the life of Onthank – could be accurately reflected through the prism of a half-dozen households.

ARMS folded and squinting into the sun, Maggie sits on her doorstep surveying the street before her. It is the ideal place from which to dispense some home truths.

"Listen, there's about four or five folk here that are bad," she says. "There's junkies and dealers, and people you know not to get involved with. But everyone else is getting tarred with the same brush. There's decent people. Way more decent people than bad. There's a sense of community spirit, where everyone helps each other."

In her street, a typical Onthank street, children play football or ride their bikes, while young mothers, aunties, and grandmothers gather in the gardens of the semi-detached houses to chat.

Apart from the odd soul sufficiently cheered by the fine weather to paint a fence or trim a hedge, the menfolk are mostly absent. Unemployment in the area currently sits at around 17 per cent. In some cases, three generations of the one family exist on benefits. Four years ago, a study by market research company CACI UK, which weighed up academic qualifications, childcare prospects, and family incomes, declared the estate one of the worst places in Scotland to raise a family.

There are properties with windows boarded up, but whereas in other housing schemes they exist in grim, unending rows, here they pop up infrequently. Only about half dozen of the 1,000 houses are derelict. And there are ample playing fields and playparks. It is not the fictional Ayrshire town of Graithnock, which author William McIlvanney, a son of Kilmarnock, described as "an aridity surrounded by the green world, a desert in an oasis."

In Maggie's eyes, the difficulties of life in Onthank are no more pronounced than in any other housing estate in the Central Belt. "It doesn't matter where you go. You could go to Newton Mearns and there'll be six or seven bad folk for every 100 good folk," she adds. "What this programme's doing is making the most of the worst of Onthank. It's not even the worst estate in Kilmarnock. Have you been to Shortlees?"

Maggie gets to her feet, visibly agitated. I ask her if the families featured in The Scheme are aware they are causing such discontent in the community. "I don't know, that's not for me to think about," she pauses. "If you're going to say something bad about them, you'll get your windows put in, so don't put my name in the paper, OK?"

THAT sense of trepidation is widespread in Onthank, which includes the areas of Tourhill, Alton Hill, Knockinlaw, and parts of Longpark.

One resident, who wished to remain anonymous, said that while he genuinely believed it to be a good place to live, it was being held back by a select few troublesome families. "I'm a grown man who has lived here all my life and I'm proud of where I'm from, but I'm scared," he explained. "You feel like you're trapped by these people."

Those tasked with improving Onthank's lot recognise such concerns, and expressed hope that the BBC would not see fit to focus on the negative stories. "It would be very unfortunate to give a picture that everyone in the area is living on the edge," reasoned Cathy Jamieson, newly elected Labour MP for Kilmarnock and Loudoun. "There is a very, very good community network in the area, people who are working hard, who take care of their homes and are involved in trying to help the area. There are people who have problems and difficulties and they need to be looked after. In this kind of programme, people's lives can get squashed into a short space of time, which makes it seem worse than it actually is."

Doubtless, efforts are ongoing to improve the area. On Amlaird Road, 19 new homes, supported by 1.6 million in Scottish Government funding, are nearly ready. Cunningham Housing Association meanwhile, is working closely with East Ayrshire Council to create new social housing. Willie Coffey, the area's SNP MSP and former Onthank councillor, said: "Despite the problems, everybody can see the improvements in Onthank over the last few years. There are new houses, new shops, and the schools are in high demand due to fantastic staff. I hope the series reflects the many positive aspects as well as providing an insight into the lives of some local residents."

FOR its part, the BBC said the documentary makers – the award-winning Friel Kean Films – had looked at various towns, before settling on Onthank due to the number of families who agreed to be filmed over a sustained period of time. A spokesman said The Scheme will look at a number of different families with a "mix" of stories.

While later episodes promise to capture some of the regeneration work in Onthank, concerns remain the picture will be one-dimensional. After watching the opening show, Paul Whitelaw, The Scotsman's television critic, said that "it remains to be seen whether The Scheme has any purpose other than wallowing in their misery."

Fiona Lees, chief executive of East Ayrshire Council, is similarly fretful, pointing to a possible repeat of a 1977 BBC documentary about Lilybank, a scheme in Glasgow's east end. "I'm not saying the area doesn't have challenges, but we are anxious about how it will be portrayed, because at the end of the day when they leave, Onthank will still be there," Ms Lees said. "We all remember the documentary about the Lilybank scheme in Glasgow. When the cameras left, the images remained." Only time will tell whether The Scheme provokes anger and resentment, or depicts a balanced, if painful, portrait of life in Onthank, a place which has suffered, but still retains its pride.

Hugh Crainie, a 21-year-old who moved to the estate from Glasgow when he was 16, suggested a little pain might go far. "Onthank's a brilliant place, but it's got its problems with drugs," he said. "I've got a wee lassie, Toni, who's going to be two in September, and I don't want her growing up that kind of place, so if this programme raises awareness and gets us help, that'd be brilliant, man, just brilliant."