shopify traffic stats
Letters Blog Letters from the Canary Islands by Barrie Mahoney

'Writing Inspired by an Island in the Atlantic'

Stacks Image 5

Charity Shops


My goodness, staff working in charity shops in Devon are a picky lot! They certainly know how to stick their noses into the air, and reject items offered to them. I wonder if this is the same throughout the country? I hope not, because many good quality items that could be of use to someone will end up in landfill.

My first experience of charity shop rejection came when I had a handful of DVDs that I no longer wanted. I thought I would drop these into the local Oxfam shop. I was joined by an elderly woman who I had spotted staggering along the pavement carrying a large box of what looked like books. We entered the shop together. As we both entered the shop, we were looked up and down by a plump middle-aged man who looked at the elderly woman and her box of books. He then glanced at me and my handful of DVDs, and then shook his head.

“Oh no. We are far too busy to sort them. We are inundated with the stuff. We cannot take them.”

The elderly woman signed. “Oh no, I’ve just walked all the way from the car park with them. I hadn’t realised how heavy they are. Some of these books are new. Are you sure you cannot take them?”

“Quite sure,” was the offhand response, as he turned away and walked into a side room.

“Look, let me take the box of books, and you carry my DVDs,” I offered. “Let’s try the ‘Cats’ Protection’ shop. They usually welcome most things.”

The elderly woman gratefully swapped her heavy box of books for my DVDs and we walked together to an adjoining road, and walked into the ‘Cats’ Protection’ shop. The greeting given was in complete contrast to that in the Oxfam shop, and the lady behind the counter gratefully accepted the box of books and my DVDs. She spotted one of them and put it to one side.

“I’ll be buying that one for myself. I was hoping that would turn up one day. It will complete my Hardy collection,” she smiled.

“Yes, I like Hardy too, I replied. “I already have one copy, but someone gave me that one as a gift some time ago, and I don’t need two. It’s a good film, I hope you enjoy it.”

“I’m sure I will. Thank you both for the books and DVDs. They always sell well. We keep the prices low, but it all adds up and helps the cats.”

I said goodbye to the friendly sales lady and to the elderly woman who was browsing the card section.

“Thank you for your help with the books. I’m going to buy my Christmas cards here. I have many more books at home, so I will bring them here instead of Oxfam in future.” I nodded in agreement, and I also decided not to visit the Oxfam shop again.

This experience was in complete contrast to our life in Gran Canaria. In our neighbouring town of Vecindario, there were two charity shops. Both shops focussed on raising funds for those recovering from both drug and alcohol abuse, of which there are many cases throughout the islands. These charities focussed on giving training and work opportunities to those in need, as a step towards helping them to regain their self-respect and sense of purpose. These charities did some excellent work, and on several occasions, we employed their workers to help remove trees and hedges that were no longer needed. We were never disappointed, and we were always pleased with their work. Both shops were also very grateful for anything offered to them. They would usually collect larger items the same day and I never knew them to reject anything offered to them.

We also bought several items of furniture ourselves from them, including a superb three door wardrobe. It was brand new and proved to be so useful that we brought it back with us to the UK for use in our garage. Local furniture and other companies often donated new and very good quality items that were at the end of the range or had minor damage.

Both shops became treasure troves for books, vinyl records, CDs and all things electrical. The stringent, and some would say excessive, health and safety rules that apply in the UK, didn’t seem to apply on the islands, and so it was always important to have any electrical item tested for safety after purchase. These shops were ideal for browsing and always a good place to pick up a surprising bargain. How we miss them.

We support the UK’s valuable hospice movement although, as with the RNLI, we believe that both organisations should be publicly funded and not have to rely upon charitable donations. It was with this in mind that I telephoned our local hospice to offer a nearly new bed and mattress, as well as a brand-new bed and mattress that were no longer required. The hospice told us that there would be a delay in collecting them as they were very busy, but they would let us know when they were passing. In the meantime, we stored the items in our garage.

I had bought both beds to see us through the anticipated several weeks delay when our container of possessions would be shipped from the islands to the UK. We were told that it could take up to two months before our belongings were delivered to our new home in Devon. Once our container arrived, we no longer had any need for the beds of which only one had been briefly used, since David was still in Gran Canaria dealing with that part of our relocation.

Two weeks later, I received a call from the hospice to say that they were passing the following morning. The van pulled into our driveway and two men walked over to the beds that were waiting for them. The older man shook his head and lit a cigarette. The irony that he worked for the hospice was not lost on me.

“We don’t take mattresses. It’s against the law.”

I had heard something about UK charities not accepting mattresses, but I had assumed that since one was nearly new and the other still had plastic wrapping there would be some flexibility.

“You sure about that? That one has only been used for a couple of months and the other is brand new.”

“Don’t make any difference. Can’t take ‘em.”

“Oh, what about the beds? Surely you can take those?”

“We could, if they were perfect. Look, both have got a scratch on the headboards. That counts as damage, we can’t take ‘em either.”

I nearly exploded with anger, “That’s how Amazon delivered them. The beds are in perfect condition. If the scratch on the headboard is such a problem, it could be covered or changed for a different one.”

“No, that’s as may be, but we still can’t take ‘em’ that counts as damaged goods,” said the older man, as both walked back to their van and drove off.

Sadly, the council housing department were not at all interested either, despite the number of homeless people seeking accommodation in the area, as well as others who were desperate for household goods. Surely someone wanted two good beds? Apparently not, in the end I had to pay a private contractor to take the beds to the dump, or recycling centre as it is now called. There is no wonder that fly tipping is such a problem in Devon.

Not all charities operate in the same way, and I am sure that there are others who would welcome good quality items to sell and raise money for their specific cause, although they are difficult to find. Recent examples included a small, wooden display cabinet and a watch display case. Both were rejected by the Horse and Foal Charity who said they were far too busy, and could I call back in the afternoon? The PDSA shop reluctantly accepted both items, but the man on the desk couldn’t be bothered to speak, let alone glance at me, as he was far too busy sorting jigsaw pieces. He merely grunted and pointed to another door at the rear of the shop, where a colleague accepted the items. Not even a “thank you” or a “goodbye”.

Later that day I filled in an online collection request form for the British Heart Foundation as I wished to donate electric clothes drier recently purchased from John Lewis. It was far bigger that we wanted, and I could not get it in the car to take it to the shop myself. I received a rejection email, followed by a very unpleasant conversation from someone who was responsible for planning collections. Excuses ranged from “We don’t have a van available”’ “No one would buy it anyway”, “We are not allowed to accept electrical heating products after Grenfell”. The excuses came thick and fast, but the most annoying thing was that the woman kept talking over me! I was not even sure that she knew what a modern electric clothes drier is! In the end, I sold it online for £60 and gave the money to another charity, but not to the British Heart Foundation; I have learned my lesson.

Some charity shops are clearly doing far too well and simply don’t need the donations. Despite this, we are continually reading about poverty, homelessness, and food banks in the UK. Poverty is current and very real in the UK. I fear that such thoughtless rejections of well-meaning donations and gifts will simply lead to people not bothering to give, which is surely completely destructive to the role of the charity sector? I urge charities to spend a little of their income on training both their paid and volunteer staff in simple techniques, such as good manners, a welcoming approach, as well as current updates of the law and safety issues, together with what they can and cannot accept. Recent experiences have reminded me of the difference between Spain, where there is real poverty and genuine need, and the level of need in the UK.

There are many people in the UK that are in desperate need too, but I do wonder how well they are supported by some of the better-known charities, as well as local authorities who have such a negative attitude towards items offered to them, which could be of help. The term ‘throwaway society” has never been clearer to me than my experiences of charity giving in the UK.

© Barrie Mahoney 2023

This article is part of the book ‘Travelling Hopefully' by Barrie Mahoney.

You can find out more about the author and this book by clicking here

Show more posts

Stacks Image 8