Up the road, estate agent windows display £850,000 properties and there’s a wide selection of high-end coffee shops.
But in recent months, every Thursday morning, a queue has formed outside St Andrew’s church in Earlsfield, part of the London borough of Wandsworth, as the redbrick building transforms into a food bank.
On this Thursday, as the spotlight falls on the flagship Conservative council in the local elections, they are not able to operate as normal with breakfast and Citizens Advice services because the venue is being used as a polling station.
Before the pandemic, Earlsfield food bank used to get 30 people a week, rising to 60 this time last year. But now, since the escalating cost of living crisis, the number of people relying on its help every week often exceeds 100 – and it is considering expanding its services.
But such is demand that it is continuing to distribute food outside the church from a side gate, with volunteers handing prepacked bags of groceries and essentials to guests ranging from young children and their parents to DHL drivers, people with mortgages and elderly people.
“There are so many people that are struggling,” says Charlotte White, who manages the independent food bank. “Sometimes, by the time we open, we have a queue of about 20 or 30.”
In previous years, numbers have started to tail off with the warmer weather, but now need is greater and more complex than ever. “When people come for the first time, they’re really in need. We get people who haven’t eaten for a couple of days,” White says.
From a storage room, they distribute bags of items including fresh food, non-perishables and toilet roll. But with donations going down as its usual donors make cuts, it also has to buy stock and is going to have to stop distributing more expensive items such as nappies.
Guests are given a number when they arrive and are called when it is their turn to collect their goods. But for those who are in a rush for work or have job interviews, packages are put aside ready for them so they don’t have to wait.
Among those waiting for her number to be called is a 65-year-old woman, who has been coming on Thursdays for about a month. She hasn’t eaten yet because she usually gets breakfast from the food bank.
Unable to work due to a knee injury and not yet eligible for a state pension, without the food bank she would be struggling, saying: “After bills there’s nothing left.”
While she does not get involved in politics, she said the difference between the lives of MPs and everybody else is plain. “We’re feeling the squeeze down here, they’re doing their partying, drinking, eating their pizza.”
Charlotte Littlefield, 47, a mother-of-four, stops by with her 10-year-old son. She first started going to the food bank when she was left unable to work due to health issues and her benefits were changed. “I actually don’t know what I’d do without the food bank right now,” she said, adding that everything is going up in price.
“I literally have to choose between food and heat and hot water. I’ve not felt so desperate in my lifetime.” Meanwhile, politicians, she said, are “all as bad as each other”.
Annmarie, 49, who has two 13-year-old children, has been coming to the food bank for two months and has also used their Citizens Advice services. She wants to see more help to find work for people with children or those who are struggling with debts or ill health. “Lots of people in this community are very talented, but where can we find them? Right in the food bank.”
