Nationwide lifts the lid on a darker side of Irish life

 There are times when a small screen image just stops you in your tracks, but in the normal course of events, you wouldn’t expect it to happen on Nationwide.

Not that there’s anything wrong with the incredibly popular RTÉ news magazine programme because the time of evening it goes out at almost demands a fair amount of fluffiness – the BBC’s One Show is similarly positioned and focused.

But last Wednesday’s Nationwide was a snapshot of fallen Ireland – and boy did it hit home ‘til it hurt.

If you could sum up the central theme, it was poverty and homelessness in modern Ireland, and presenter Mary Kennedy – a woman who could easily define the notion of empathy – dropped in on the Capuchin Day Care Centre in the heart of Dublin city centre.

The centre is run by a marvellous and modest Capuchin called Brother Kevin Crowley, who is originally from West Cork but who has been looking after this incredible project since he first founded it in 1969.

I have to declare a certain interest here in that I’ve encountered Brother Kevin and knew of his work before Nationwide – but still that didn’t lessen the impact of how much it has grown in a very short time . . . and in this case growth is not a good thing.

Because every day the Capuchin Day Centre serves meals – breakfast and dinner – to 700 of Dublin’s needy for meals.

And every Wednesday, they hand out 1,600 food parcels – a blue plastic bag that contains a pint of milk, a loose bag of cereal, a lump of cheese . . . around six basic foodstuffs that make such a difference for so many.

You look down the queue – this one was filmed while the snows fell on Dublin, and gathered on their shivering backs as they stood in line – and you also realise that so many of these don’t look like your image of poor people at all.

Some of them were brave enough to talk on camera as to how they found themselves queuing for food, and for many it’s not down to drink or drugs or crime – it’s job loss that led to loss of accommodation, or depression, and before they really knew what was happening, they had simply fallen off the edge.

For more, read this week's Connacht Sentinel.