At the daily Manne food counter in Joliette, the team is worried. The general manager, Charles Chénier, speaks of a “state of crisis”. The fridge, usually full to bursting, is practically empty. “For the past few weeks, we have received practically nothing,” underlines Mr. Chénier. If it continues like this, we will no longer be able to provide…”
Yet demand remains high. Worse, it increases. “We went from 500 to 1000 people per week, explains Mr. Chénier. Before, we mainly helped single people, but now we see a lot more families and workers who can no longer pay for groceries. »
Outside, a few people line up despite the Siberian cold to pick up their weekly basket. Kathleen Bacon, 28, enters with little Stella in her arms. From the height of her two years, the child plunges head first into the basket to come out, triumphant, with a grenade which she places in the grocery bag. Her mother congratulates her while mechanically adding a pineapple, a cantaloupe, bell peppers, potatoes, eggs and a chocolate cake.
A single mother living on social assistance, she could not make it without the help of the food counter, which she has been going to every week for the past few years. “Without that, we would eat a lot more cans, less healthy and less varied, that’s for sure. She is particularly happy to be able to find fruits and vegetables in her basket.
She completes the whole thing by doing a little grocery shopping in a supermarket.
Carolle Roy (“with two “l”: it’s better to fly”), she has been frequenting the food counter for “25 years, minimum”. She fills her bags by making jokes — “I’m like Dominique Michel, me!” – and comments in passing on what comes to hand. ” Cinnamon ! That’s expensive! “launches the sexagenarian.
Régis Forest, 59, also comes to pick up food every week. He notices that for some time, the basket is less full. “But we can’t cry, it’s given,” he points out, shrugging his shoulders.
Foretold disaster
Normally, the contents of the baskets are valued at around $100-120, explains Charles Chénier. Monday morning, the basket was less full: it was worth around $50-60. During the previous distribution, last Thursday, it was even worse: the last left with a few apples, peppers and a tin can. “We were embarrassed, we’re not used to giving so little, says Serge Fortin behind the counter. We had to explain to them that we couldn’t do better. »
A truck is just arriving at the warehouse. His driver made the usual rounds to traders in the region to collect foodstuffs that were about to expire. Charles Chénier heaves a sigh of discouragement when he sees the delivery. “Normally the guys have to stack the boxes strategically to fit everything into the truck. Today, we have about fifteen boxes on the floor. Based on the number of families we serve, it will take about 30 minutes. »
The man does not understand what is happening. In ten years, he has seen periods of plenty and others of lean cows, but never like the last few weeks. “What comes in three days is what we generally get in one day. Tonight, there won’t be a single bin left on the shelves. Next Thursday, next distribution day, it’s going to be a disaster…”
Need help
A few blocks further, the general manager of La Soupière, Nathalie Loyer, is experiencing a similar situation. “We receive less food and we always have new members,” she says. The month of January is always more difficult, after the peak attributable to the food drive, in December, explains Mme Rent. “But this year, it’s worse. We phone our donors, we manage, but from week to week, we eat away at our reserves and we live with the worry of seeing people at the door without having anything to put in the boxes. »
Since the beginning of the pandemic, both levels of government have come to the rescue of food banks by giving them money so that they can make purchases and thus continue to support the growing number of families asking for ugly. “But right now, we have nothing,” says M.me Rent.
“We will surely have money soon, but it is now that we need it, implores in turn Charles Chénier, of The Daily Manne. This is a specific problem which demonstrates that in a crisis situation, food security cannot be ensured if it is not supported by the State. »
Several hypotheses have been put forward to explain this supply problem. We mention in particular the fact that consumers buy more during confinement, leaving supermarket shelves less stocked. We are also looking at the new programs to fight against food waste, which encourage people to buy at a lower price foods whose expiry date is approaching, foodstuffs which previously went directly to food organizations.
Rise in demand
At Moisson Lanaudière, which provides some of the food for the La Manne Daily and La Soupière food counters, Diane Nadeau deplores the fact that it has become practically “normal” to run out of food due to the meteoric increase in demand. “We receive calls from people who need help every week, every day. »
Although her organization does not suffer from supply problems, she recognizes that it is not always easy to supply organizations with what they really need. “I can send them pulses, but people don’t eat them. She recalls that food bank members are not always able to cook. “What organizations want is canned food. They never have enough. »
At the Food Banks of Quebec network, as at Moisson Montreal, there is also an increase in demand, but there are no reports of supply problems.