In a community centre in an industrial park in Enfield, north London, a production line is in full swing. Volunteers in face masks whizz between four rooms, filling bags with food, toiletries, nappies and sanitary products. In a large warehouse- sized space they pack it all into bags, ready to hand over to the throngs of people waiting outside in a queue that snakes around the side of the building.
There are parents here with babies, families, couples – people of all ages, some of whom have brought a friend along for moral support. They are here to collect their life-saving parcels from the North Enfield food bank. This time last year, many of them were in full-time work.
Katrina*, 37, is visiting for her first time after she was made redundant from her job as a beauty therapist. She has two children, aged seven and nine, and hasn’t told her friends or family she now relies on the food bank. ‘I’m really hoping I don’t see anyone I know; it’s humiliating. I never thought I’d need a food bank,’ she says. It’s the middle of the second lockdown and she’s concerned restrictions are going to edge millions of people below the poverty line. As a therapist who often visited people in their homes, the pandemic has crushed her industry. ‘I don’t want to go on benefits; I’ve always worked,’ she says.
Since the pandemic began, this food bank alone has helped nearly 13,000 people, a huge increase compared to the same period last year, according to its manager, Kerry Coe. ‘We have young mums coming in for baby milk and baby food, people coming in for sanitary products. We get lots of children coming in,’ she explains.
This surge in demand reflects the national picture: food banks across the UK have seen a 47% rise in need during the pandemic, according to The Trussell Trust, a charity that supports a network of more than 1,200 food banks, including this one. Between April and September, their food banks provided more than 1.2 million emergency food parcels – over 470,000 went to children. And their figures are just the tip of the iceberg.
This Christmas, Grazia has joined forces with The Trussell Trust as they call for people to help end injustice by signing up to their Hunger Free Future campaign. They want people to take action together now, so we can build a future where we can all afford the essentials and food banks become extinct.
‘The pandemic has had a big impact on people’s finances,’ Kerry says. As Denise*, 45, waits for her food bundle to be prepared – outside, in line with the charity’s social distancing measures – she explains she used to give to food banks regularly. ‘In Sainsbury’s, I’d donate food after a shop. Last Christmas, I had enough money for a big Christmas dinner and I gave my neighbours little presents. I’d come home to a warm house. This year, I can only afford to heat one room, so I’ve moved my bed into the front room,’ she says.
Her finances were hit after she spilt with her partner earlier this year. ‘After too much time at home together in lockdown we realised we were incompatible. He helped with the bills and I couldn’t afford them once we split up. The Government also stopped some of my benefits. If it weren’t for the food bank, I wouldn’t be eating. I don’t know what I’d do without it,’ she says.
Johnny*, 32, is here with his three-year- old daughter, who restlessly shuffles around in her buggy while he queues. His girlfriend and their one-year-old son are at home.
He was a chef at a well-known London restaurant for five years until he was made redundant in October, when the company that owned the restaurant lost millions as hospitality was hit hard. Now he is on his second visit to the food bank, while he waits for his Universal Credit payments to come through. ‘I never thought I’d need to use this, but without the food bank we’d have to borrow, using more loans and getting into more debt,’ he explains, while trying to soothe his toddler.
‘As a chef, I know I can make what we’re given last. We want to use these services as little as possible as others need it more. For your self-esteem, you don’t want to rely on others. But it has restored my faith in humanity to know it’s here. It’s such a relief.’
Kerry is the only salaried worker here and everyone else is a volunteer – there are around 100 altogether. When lockdown started, a number of them had to shield, but an influx of new volunteers signed up. ‘There’s definitely been an increase, which is lovely,’ Kerry says Donations aren’t in short supply either, though the huge rise in demand means there is never anything left over. They gave out around 16 tonnes of food last month. Offerings from schools, supermarkets, community groups and businesses have been generous: in one room, a 1.3 tonne delivery has arrived from a school. This is just one of a number of donations today; two warehouse-sized rooms are full of crates stacked high with tins, cereal and pasta. And yet, all of it will be distributed.
Rebecca Davies, a supervisor here, says they are seeing a broader range of people now, as so many have seen their circumstances suddenly change. Recently, she helped a couple with children who had both lost good, stable jobs within two weeks of each other. ‘Suddenly, their life had gone off a precipice,’ she says.
‘There have been more family breakdowns as people are under a lot of stress at home and women still take up most of the slack, with childcare, home- care, organising and just trying to cope,’ she adds.
I return to the food bank again a month before Christmas and it’s even busier. A woman collecting food rushes past and doesn’t have time to speak – she has twin babies in the car. Meera* is here to collect food for her neighbour, who is confined to her home with Covid, along with her husband and their four young children.
‘Her husband lost his job because of the pandemic so now they need to rely on the food bank. If this wasn’t here, I don’t know what they’d do. Our kids go to the same school so I offered to help,’ she says.
Fiona*, 20, has just finished studying to become a beautician but can’t find work, graduating into the worst labour market since the Great Depression. ‘I get benefits for my rent but I can’t afford food,’ she says.
Sam*, 31, stands shivering outside. ‘Iused to be on £35k and worked right over there,’ he says, pointing to an office block across the road. ‘I’ve had to go two days without food recently. If it weren’t for the food bank I wouldn’t be eating today. Over there is where I used to spend £10 a day on lunch,’ he says.
Sam lost his job in May after his mental health deteriorated, a culmination of stress brought on by the pandemic and being kicked out of his family home after he came out as gay. ‘Everything has got so much worse this year,’ he says, tears streaming down his cheeks and his teeth chattering. ‘I’ve been staying on a friend’s sofa but his mum is worried about the mixing of households. It’s harder because of Covid. I don’t even want to think about Christmas,’ he says.
As I leave, Kerry and the team make up bags of food for him. Kerry takes Sam under her wing, talking him through how else he can get support and giving him a mobile phone so he can contact other services.
In the dark winter months ahead, generous donations and the vital work of people like Kerry and the other volunteers will become even more important. But everyone here agrees on something: food banks shouldn’t exist. ‘We don’t want anyone to be in a situation where they have to come here,’ says Kerry. And in one of the richest nations in the world, nobody should have to.
Please join Grazia in signing up to The Trussell Trust’s Hunger Free Future campaign today by visiting trusselltrust.org/hunger-free-future. #HungerFreeFuture.
*Names have been changed.