The Sunday Mail ventured out in plunging temperatures last week to find out what life is really like for victims of the crisis.
Scotland is in the grip of a homelessness epidemic with nearly 20,000 people struggling to survive in desolate city streets, shop doorways, temporary digs and tents.
The Sunday Mail ventured out in plunging temperatures last week to find out what life is really like for victims of the crisis.
The latest figures revealed that 19,469 adults were classed as homeless between April and September in Scotland with a record 10,480 children in temporary accommodation.
Rough sleeping is up by a quarter and in Glasgow, the number of homeless families has rocketed by 17 per cent.
In the underpass at Central Station on Argyle Street we found a small squalid tent set up with a folding camp bed next to it.
Inside, four people passed about a bottle of Buckfast and one lit up what appeared to be a crackpipe.
One man didn’t want us around and told us so in no uncertain terms – but others emerged from the tent who were happy to speak.
Joe Elder, who recently got out of prison, said: “You’d never see tents here two, three years ago. It’s disgusting how people are treated.
“Reintegrating into society is a lot harder than people think.
“I’ve got bad mental health. You’re left to fend for yourself and when you try to get help, you’re left with a bed or tent… we’re the lost generation.”
In the city we met friends Connor and Natasha, who were keen to share their stories about how they were real people and not just statistics.
Natasha, a mum, told how she has a drinking problem and uses alcohol to cope with her situation.
She said she has not seen her children in more than a year which she blames on social services.
Currently, she lives in temporary supported accommodation and hopes if she gets a home of her own she can see her children again but has been on a council house waiting list for three years.
Natasha said: “Nobody seems to care about homelessness, it’s just a joke. The government needs to do more. We’re just people who need help and somewhere to stay. We’re all just human beings.
“You’re seeing people dying, you’re seeing people full of drugs on the street. We all want support but none of the homeless people get support in Glasgow.
“You see them all out in the street but they’re never getting houses. Everybody should have somewhere safe. There’s people I’ve seen with kids left to look after themselves in the middle of the street.”
During our interview, Natasha darted off down the street where she became embroiled in a commotion before returning with a bruise on her cheek.
“I just got punched,” she told Connor.
A police van crawls past. Twice the van doors slide open only to close again before it drives away.
Up ahead, we see a dark-clothed figure sprinting past, bombing up Union Street at full pelt. The officers in the van almost race after him, then decide it’s a lost cause and drive off. I’ve no idea if it’s connected to what happened to Natasha.
Dad-of-two Connor, 26, is a qualified tradesman, who worked in thermal insulation for eight years before medical problems put him out of work.
Brought up by his grandmother, who now has dementia and is in care, he has been forced to sleep on friends’ couches to survive. He said: “I lost everything and it just shows you that anybody can go from top to bottom.
“I can’t work just now and I couldn’t afford the private let we had so I had to get out. It’s so hard to get by.
“It’s getting a lot worse out here. People take advantage and benefit, while others who need genuine help don’t get it. I’m just trying to get better.”
The bitter reality of the city’s streets is a far cry from the warmth and shelter of the Glasgow City Mission, which offers a nightly free dinner service for those in need. Despite being mostly staffed by volunteers, it feeds up to 190 people some nights.
Yvonne Faddis, women’s project worker at the charity, said: “We’ve got a lot coming in who are in recovery. Some of the women we work with have experienced domestic abuse or are fleeing violence.
“Some are coming from different places and just need connection and support. Everybody we work with is just a person with a story.
“I think we come with pre-judgments of people so often, if we see somebody on the street or begging… but there’s something really beautiful about hearing people’s stories and seeing where they’ve been.”
Maureen Gardiner, affectionately known as Mo, has been a volunteer with the mission for 20 years.
She said: “People will never starve in Glasgow. We might be short of beds but we’re never short of food.”
But she describes the current housing situation in the city as “dire”. Maureen added: “It’s getting worse every year. I actually don’t know what’s gone so wrong.”
There’s no escaping the issue of refugees when it comes to housing and homelessness services, with a 51 per cent rise in homeless applicants last year from people who had been given asylum.
Refugee households accounted for nearly half of all applications in Glasgow – about 1700 families.
Time after time, homeless people we spoke to told us they feel they’ve been sidelined to accommodate refugees – while one homelessness worker told us Glasgow was “bursting at the seams”.
Alison Mitchell, a senior housing settlement officer at Glasgow City Mission’s Overnight Welcome Centre, claimed changes to “local connection” rules limiting the ability of councils to turn away people without local ties had put huge strain on cities like Glasgow and Edinburgh.
She said: “The Scottish Government is using its devolved powers, such as housing and healthcare, to provide a different experience for refugees who come to Scotland.
“And therein lies the reason, I think, that Glasgow is absolutely bursting at the seams.
“As soon as refugees have got their leave to remain, they all want to come to Scotland because the laws are different to England and Wales.
“And Edinburgh and Glasgow are both greatly under strain due to this change on local connection.”
Glasgow City Mission is just one of several charities aiming to make the lives of the city’s homeless more bearable by offering food, shelter and support amid the huge pressure on council homelessness services.
On Royal Exchange Square, we stumbled across a group of fluorescent-jacketed volunteers from StreetCare, which for nearly two decades have been going out every week to feed the homeless.
Most of their food comes from commercial outlets like Pret A Manger and Greggs, which hand over stuff they would otherwise throw out as waste at closing time.
We meet charity co-founder Boab Scott, from Drymen, who says: “We’re always in demand, some nights busier than others and tonight we’ve seen 35-40 people.”
On Gordon Street we also met James, a former janitor, who after years on a waiting list was given a council house 10 weeks ago.
He said: “I’m out trying to scrape together a tenner for my meter.”
Volunteers’ efforts to offer food and kindness to those falling through the system’s cracks are awe-inspiring.
But even with the best will in the world they can never do enough, given the huge scale of the crisis faced by thousands of people across Scotland today.
