Hackney Foodbank - A view from both sides of the fence
David Elks, Hackney Foodbank
- written by volunteer David Elks
"I can never repay those who helped me when I was down, out and desperate, but I hope to one day serve by helping others in their time of need.”
I've lived on both sides of the wall that divides those struggling to keep their jobs and those forced to sleep on the streets. I wrote the words above in my journal back in May 2022, shortly after I moved into a flat in Islington.
Made redundant from a national cancer charity that shed 16 per cent of its workforce to survive COVID-19, I saw my savings slashed and then disappear, my sanity sorely tested and faced the overwhelming fear of a downward spiral.
Unable to pay my rent in Poplar, I was threatened with eviction and even spent two weeks freezing over New Year having been locked out while trying to find a new place to live.
A work coach at my local job centre suggested that I went to a foodbank to supplement the Universal Credit that put a roof over my head. After costs such as gas, electricity and mobile phone, I was left with £46 a month for food. She handed me the address to the one at Euston and its opening times.
So one warm Thursday evening I trekked down Pentonville Road, past King's Cross and on to the gates of the centre near to Euston Train Station. Now based in a former school, dozens of people of all ages, creeds and nationalities were already gather to pick up food and supplies to keep them going for a few more days.
I felt ashamed and embarrassed that I found myself forced to beg for food. I could see the same feeling reflected in the tired eyes of those who gathered in queues for their tickets.
Lost and unsure, I looked for someone to ask for help and saw a woman handing out tickets to people gathered ahead of me. "Do you need a ticket?" she said, offering me a raffle ticket with a number. "Yes, I think," I said, unsure. My number was 42.
The ticket is, for those who don't know, a passport for someone's journey through the foodbank. Usually given after arrival to those with a voucher signed off from a number of support organisations including Citizens Advice and some local churches.
Different foodbanks operate different systems. At Euston, once I'd got my ticket, I sat down with someone who registered my address and other details, before checking how many individuals I was claiming for, and whether I had any dietary requirements - pescatarian in my case.
Step two at Euston: join another queue for someone to go through the finer details food such as fresh fruit or veg, bread, tins for tomatoes, beans, spaghetti, pulses such as chickpeas, oil, pasta, rice and other oddments. Then toiletries such as soap, shampoo or sanitary towels. Then the warehouse would work up the order.
Finally, the bit I came to enjoy - receiving the food. A cheerful man in knee-length shorts - regardless of the weather - would call out the numbers and drop a crate of what had been requested with a big smile.
Over 12 months I used to visit every couple of days and was pleased to meet and make friends, from those who used to come for food, and those people who volunteered their time to help.
And a month ago, I achieved what I set out to do: give something back for the time and support that I was given when I had nothing. Now I work as a proud volunteer for Hackney Foodbank.
I currently work at the food bank's main warehouse, essentially the heart of the operation for the borough. From here, the organisation collects, sorts, stores tens of items - such as those mentioned above - and then redistributed them into emergency food packages for individuals and families. In 2021, it supported almost 7,000 people.
These packages are then given out to recipients with a voucher at centres in Dalston, Haggerston, Hoxton, Pembury, Stoke Newington and Upper Clapton.
During a shift as a volunteer, I usually find myself making up standardised parcels of food to be handed out to people at the centres.
Not all goods packed to go out are taken up by people at the foodbank and returned tins and packets are checked before being returned to stock.
A key part of the process, either outgoing or incoming, is quality assurance. Items that are out-of-date, damaged or otherwise considered unfit for purpose are taken out of the cycle for recycling.
There is often discussion about how to classify a particular item. For instance, there are categories for cereals and biscuits. Simple, right? But what about a box of Jaffa Cakes? Is that a biscuit or is it considered an 'extra' - that is, something that isn't defined by the broad categories. Well, that is a biscuit here, and not as cakes as defined by some arcane European ruling.
What about a box of cereal bars? Cereal or biscuit?
One of the rules of thumb I learned was when in doubt, ask someone. The volunteers are friendly and happy to help clarify sorting nuances.
I have volunteered before. I used to make beds and dish out soup at the country's oldest branch of the Samaritans in Poplar.
But I like the variety, both in terms of the tasks as well the diverse range of people who give their time.
One of my favourite tasks was a shift spent packing small bags of children’s gifts to be distributed before Christmas; books, clothes, games, jewellery and toys. A parcel of joy for some children would otherwise go without.
Another highlight was the one occasion I spent at the food distribution centre in Lea Side, Upper Clapton. I was charged with greeting people seeking food after making their way down the rather steep descent down Big Hill.
I'd not made a cup of tea or coffee for the public in three decades but when I asked one woman with rollerblades what she wanted, her eyes lit up. "Coffee, please. Strong, two sugars". She paused. "I've not had a hot drink in days."
I've enjoyed my short time time volunteering. I cannot repay those who helped me when I was down, out and desperate after COVID-19 left me without a job and almost home.
I kept my word: To be useful
Editor’s Note: David Elks has just joined Hackney Foodbank’s staff team as IT Data Processes Senior Officer.