Colin Blane The BBC's Scotland Correspondent

It's almost a year since Glasgow was convulsed by unexpected protests in the housing estate of Sighthill when an asylum-seeker was stabbed to death.

Local people were accused of racism and there were complaints that the city council favoured incomers over those who had been living in the area for years.

Relations between the different communities were said to be so bad, more trouble was forecast.

So how is Sighthill coping a year on?

When my wife was eight months pregnant, someone hit her in the back, a week ago a wee boy spat on her, kicked her and hit the baby

Rabih Ghamineh

Sighthill has never had a great reputation. It's dominated by run-down tower blocks looking out over a cemetery.

There are too few facilities for the thousands of people who live in the high flats and all too often, the flats themselves are damp.

That's an outsider's view.

When I visited Sighthill this week I found some residents sticking up for their area.

For the defence

Charlie Riddell lives on the 19th floor of one of the towers. The lift only goes to the 18th.

Charlie concedes that Sighthill could be improved but says neither the place nor its people are as bad as they've been painted over the last year .

He says most Sighthill residents do live up to Glasgow's reputation for being a welcoming, friendly city. But that all came into question a year ago.

Firsat Dag died from a stab wound

After Glasgow agreed to accept asylum seekers dispersed by the Home Office and gave hundreds of them renovated flats in Sighthill there was friction with neighbours already living there.

Then a young Kurdish man, Firsat Dag, was stabbed to death.

Sighthill erupted. Incomers marched on the city centre.

Some locals held a counter-protest. It didn't seem to matter that the murder wasn't racially motivated and the killer wasn't from Sighthill.

Calmer area

A year on, the asylum seekers are still in Sighthill but Charlie Riddell believes the area's much calmer now.

"At one time even people who should know better were all grumbling about asylum seekers and it was the only thing people talked about for months.

"That's all gone now. People have become accustomed to asylum seekers. They realise they're just like themselves", he said.

They're wanting to help, they're wanting to give. I have yet to meet a sponger

Elspeth Jones on the asylum seekers

But not all the problems have been quietly resolved.

In a neighbouring tower block, Rabih Ghamineh, from the Lebanon, is struggling to raise a family while he waits for his asylum request to be processed.

He says there's continuing racial harassment.

"When my wife was eight months pregnant, someone hit her in the back, a week ago a wee boy spat on her, kicked her and hit the baby.

"My son's been attacked by a crowd of boys. It seems to be worst in the summer when the teenagers are around."

Advice source

But Rabih has encountered kindness too. He speaks warmly of the local church of St Rollox where he's been given help and advice.

Espeth Jones helps run what's virtually become a refugee reception centre there.

She believes Sighthill is benefiting from the influx of asylum seekers.

Last year's demonstration in the Sighthill estate

"They're wanting to help, they're wanting to give. I have yet to meet a sponger," she said.

It's been suggested that if Glasgow City Council had done more to prepare its tenants for the influx things would have been easier.

But Robina Quereshi who runs a crisis support service for the asylum seekers says the problem is deeper than that.

She blames governments for the way incomers are treated and says that with falling birth-rates Europe needs new blood.

Legal tangle

Back in his Sighthill tower block, Rabih Ghamineh says his life is draining away.

He's 36 and used to have his own business.

He can't go home, he can't work, he can't unravel his legal tangle.

Remarkably, he still likes his adopted city - even he wants to move on from Sighthill.