IT’S just after noon at the Glasgow South West food bank, run by the Trussell Trust from Hillington Park Church, and already Claire McCunnie, development worker, has seen three people in tears. That’s more or less a daily occurrence in this busy food bank, which now sees about 80 people a week, spread over its five morning sessions.

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“We had one girl in this morning who was crying because she had never had to do this,” she says. “She had struggled on for four weeks and she just couldn’t do another one.” For those being moved to Universal Credit there is a six-week wait for the new benefit. Single parents will, on average, be worse off whether working on not. McCunnie is now seeing an increase in the number of young mums being referred.

She agrees the right to food should be embedded in Scots law. “It really should be the most basic right, shouldn’t it?” she asks. “People shouldn’t have to come to us – it’s so unfair on them and it’s unfair too that the Government is relying on food banks. A lot of the time it’s forgotten that we are a charity, not a statutory organisation. And yet we get people coming in week in, week out, telling us that we are the only organisation helping them.”

At least they get help when they pluck up the courage to come through the door. McCunnie regularly sees people walking back and forth and pops her head out to make sure they know they’ll get a warm welcome inside. One man, she tells me, arrived on the Monday after spending four days without food. People regularly arrive hungry.

At a café table, enjoying the tea and biscuits, one woman – who doesn’t want to use her name – tells me that she found it hard the first time but has had to visit about once a month for several years.

“Since moving on to Universal Credit my rent and my rent arrears come straight off my money – it leaves me with less than £300 a month,” she says. “I’ve got bills, bus fares … but food is the main thing.”

Before moving on to Universal Credit her housing association was happy for her to pay arrears at an affordable £20 per month. After that it was set at £63 – the additional amount matched about what she budgeted for that final week of food.

“I’ve got half a packet of pasta in my cupboards at home,” she says. “And pennies in the bank. I don’t get paid for another week.” Now she has two bags full of tins, cornflakes, sugar, toiletries, soap powder.

“In an ideal world I’d be able to go and buy this myself, with money I’ve earned,” she says. But for now – like tens of thousands across Scotland – it’s food banks that fulfil that so-called rights accountability gap.