Busy, busy, busy. After last week’s very quiet day at the food bank, normality was resumed, the new normal where ordinary working people don’t have any food and need to come to us. But first some facts and figures:
In July, our little group of foodbanks gave out 538 emergency food parcels, weighing a total of 12,078 kilos, providing support to 1243 people. In the year ending March 2023, emergency food parcels were distributed nationally to nearly three million people. More than a million parcels were for children. We live in one of the richest countries in the world, with a prime minister who with his wife is worth three quarters of a billion quid. There is never enough money in the world for Rishi Sunak so this week he ignored climate change by encouraging more oil exploration in the North Sea from which his tax-dodging wife’s family business will benefit to the tune of hundreds of millions. Today Sunak lies under the California sun in his luxury penthouse apartment in Santa Monica, one of his four homes, the other three are in the UK. Today, our volunteers did what we could to alleviate food poverty in the only way we can, other than voting Sunak’s party out of office.
Even food banks are struggling now. Two in our patch didn’t open this week because they had both run out of food. People were literally turned away from what is the last resort. I know our office staff felt terrible, but what else could they do?
There has been a massive downturn in donations to food banks. I think this is due to the cost of living crisis which is adversely affecting people who perhaps consider themselves to be middle class and never expected to be in or approaching food poverty, never mind being able to donate to a food bank. I went in our store cupboard several times today and while the shelves have some food on, there’s a lot less than there usually is. We completely ran out of bread and spread this week and the small amount of cheese we have been able to buy ran out, too. (We are able to purchase some items when kind people donate money to us, in case you were wondering.)
I was deeply moved today when an older couple arrived with nine large supermarket bags packed with items. They explained that they donated like this twice a year – once in summer and once at Christmas – in memory of their daughter who was killed last year. I managed to keep it together, despite welling-up, and said what a wonderful thing they were doing, that people would benefit in ways others might not appreciate and that their daughter would surely be proud of them. I know I was probably gushing too much, repeating our thanks over and over again, but this is me, for better or for worse, and I always say, bringing out my broken record again, that there are far more good people than bad. When people thank us for helping them, I know they’re really thanking the generous people who do good things.
Not everything at the food bank is as uplifting, though. An old boy I saw, I’d guess in his late seventies, maybe early eighties, had seen his entire pension swallowed up this week by an unexpected and colossal gas bill. It was the first time he had, in his words, to beg for food and he was very upset about it. I can’t remember exactly how I replied but it would have been along the lines of “it’s not your fault, it happens to a lot of people and the purpose of you being here is to help see you through the next few days or so”. As Rishi Sunak parades around California in his budgie smugglers (size XS, I believe), others sit alone, without food and with nothing but the crystal bucket to keep them company.
The state we are in, eh? And it’s getting worse, not better.
