Help The Hungry: The silent heroes delivering food for the vulnerable

While the country was stuck inside, or taking its daily constitutional, a group of volunteers bustled around a depot and loaded, unloaded and categorised food parcels

I have seen for myself the dedication of those on the front lines of London’s hunger epidemic.

It was a bright and sunny Good Friday afternoon in Park Royal, west London. While the country was stuck inside, or taking its daily constitutional, a group of volunteers bustled around the depot of The Felix Project, The Independent’s campaign partner. They were loading, unloading and categorising food parcels.

Two of them sat at a small table on the grass, blinking in the hot sun and drinking tea. They told me they were regular volunteers, one came twice a week, the other six times. They both agreed their work was even more crucial in this time of crisis, when so many are alone or out of pocket.

Together with another regular volunteer, Colin, we loaded up a van with fresh meat, vegetables and juice. Soon after, we were cruising down London’s deserted streets on our way to supply three vital community organisations.

First, we stopped off at a parish church where the vicar, Father Michael, received us gratefully. He kept his distance from us as we unloaded food onto his doorstep, the new normal in these surreal times, but smiled brightly at the arrival of beef mince and fruit juice.

Service manager Laurence Foy (right) and Liam Hearte (left) from charity Build on Belief await a Felix food delivery outside the Acorn Hall in North Kensington (Lucy Young)

“Normally we run a mental health drop-in, but we’ve had to close that,” he explained. Now he relies on the local community to deliver his food parcels to vulnerable parishioners, like a benevolent broadband network.

Next up is a hostel in Brent, where two social workers, Mary and Theresa, greet us at the door. The first week of lockdown was hard, they say. Charity donations dried up and their tenants couldn’t leave their rooms.

Things are better now though, they assured us. They’ve organised an Easter quiz over WhatsApp, and our delivery of chocolate will make perfect prizes.

Foy, from charity Build on Belief, brings in donated food to the Acorn Hall in North Kensington (Lucy Young)

Then we make a stop at a supermarket in Finchley Road to collect. We bang on the service door for a while but no one comes. Perhaps they’re short-staffed today, Colin suggests.

Finally, the great metal door swings open and behold: innumerable punnets of fresh oranges. We pile our van high with the fruit and leave for Build on Belief in Kensington, our last stop.

This final community association is an addiction treatment centre, which has become the centre of a network for recovering local people.

The manager, Liam, explains how Felix’s food has allowed them to transform how they help their clients, especially in times of lockdown. “Felix are a lifeblood,” he tells me simply.

As I drive back home, I reflect on the people I’ve met and worked with on this day. The social workers, priests, local organisers who continue to work for no reason other than to help people.

Everyone I met today is a silent but vital node in a community network that spans across our city and the country. They’re doing the best they can with what they have, to help us through this crisis. I’m reminded of an old saying: when life gives you oranges…