Jeely pieces and high flats are not a good combination.
By Bill Heaney
The days of shouting up to your mammy for a jeely piece during the summer holidays from school have long gone.
Valeman Bob Doris MSP told the Scottish Parliament that as the schools break and the lucky ones go off on holiday, hunger will become a reality for too many children.
Glasgow City Council has invested £2 million in its annual holiday hunger strategy, through which children can get involved in free youth activities across the city and be provided with free food without stigma, which is important.
Bob, the SNP member for Maryhill, said: “Will the First Minister urge families to check their local council’s website and libraries for more information on local activities that are available for children in their area?
“Does she agree that we must do all that we can to tackle child poverty not just outwith term time but all year round?”
Nicola Sturgeon said: “Food insecurity during school holidays is driven by families’ incomes being too low to meet their needs, which is why we continue to challenge the United Kingdom Government’s punitive welfare cuts and have focused £2 million of our £3.5 million fair food fund specifically on school holidays
“It is also why, yesterday in the chamber, we announced bold action to tackle child poverty in Scotland.
“Over the past year alone, we have introduced the best start grant and a financial health check service and have increased school clothing grants.
“By the end of 2022, our new Scottish child payment, which will be worth £10 per week, will be available to all eligible children aged under 16, and we will deliver early payments for under-sixes before the end of this parliamentary session.”
Who remembers the late, great Matt McGinn singing this?
The Jeelie Piece Song (Skyscraper Wean)
I’m a skyscraper wean, I live on the nineteenth flair,
But I’m no gaun oot to play ony mair,
Since we moved to Castlehill, I’m wasting away,
‘Cause I’m getting one less meal every day.
O ye cannae fling pieces oot a Cumbrae Crescent flat,
Hunners o’ Dumbarton weans will testify to that,
If it’s butter, cheese or jeely, if the breid is plain or pan,
The odds against it reaching earth are ninety-nine to wan.
On the first day my maw flung out a piece o’ Hovis brown.
It came skyting oot the winda and went up insteid o’ down,
But every twenty-seven hours it comes back into sight,
‘Cause my piece went into orbit and became a satellite.
One the second day my maw flung me a piece oot once again.
It went and hit the pilot in a fast, low-flying plane.
He scraped it off his goggles, shouting through the intercom:
`The Clydeside Reds have got me wi’ a breid-and-jeely bomb!’
One the third day my maw thought she would try another throw.
The Salvation Army band was staunin’ doon below.
`ONWARD, CHRISTIAN SOLDIERS’ was the piece they should have played,
But the oompah-man was playing a piece-on-marmalade.
We’ve wrote away tae Oxfam to try and get some aid,
And a’ the weans in Castlehill have formed a “Piece” brigade;
We’re going to march to Church Street, demanding civil rights,
Like `Nae Mair Hooses Over Piece-Flinging Height!’