Spain's 2023 Food Drive Begins with Fewer Donors

2023 Food Drive: Basket Costs 28.4% More

The 2023 food collection in Spain began without official announcements or posters: just a folded sheet in children’s backpacks. In mid-November, families from private-aid schools — including ikastolas — received notes listing required items and recipients. The mechanism remains unchanged. What has changed is the response. Many regular donors have stopped contributing, citing arithmetic rather than ideology.

When does the 2023 food drive start?

The campaign enters homes via schools. The first notice was dated November 14, when a private-aid school distributed papers that now detail: specific products, quantities, and beneficiary entities. Teachers remind families, and the process branches out: school notes become supermarket bags, donation tables, and volunteers handing out sacks. It all starts quietly, without prior media focus.

There is no single centralized campaign. Each school, parish, and association organizes its own schedule. However, they share the social calendar: from mid-November until pre-Christmas weeks, when generosity peaks and boxes fill—or don’t. This year, the question isn’t whether people help, but how much they can afford.

Why has the shopping basket increased by 28.4%?

This data explains everything. Food prices in Spain have risen in the last 25 months as much as in the previous 18 years. The shopping basket is 28.4% more expensive than in September 2021, with October seeing an additional 1.3% monthly rise. In practical terms: tuna cans at €3 and oil at €10.

For those who donated surplus goods, the math has changed. Nothing is left over anymore, or almost nothing, and what remains costs first-world prices on non-first-world salaries. Previously, donating basic staples was negligible; now, with soaring oil prices, giving is no longer a cheap gesture but an economic decision.

Why do many donors say they give nothing?

Price arguments are only half the story. The other half is distrust. Circulating narratives consistently point one way: avoiding volunteers with bags; questioning organizations collecting food while hunger isn't visibly apparent; preferring to wear out clothes rather than use donation bins.

A common anecdote involves entering a supermarket where a volunteer offers a bag with a specific list—dish soap, oil, canned fish—because other items are plentiful. The reaction, often shared to provoke discomfort, is: no one helps me. This small gesture reflects the mood of former collaborators.

Do food banks prioritize migrants?

This claim circulates widely but lacks evidence. Some assert distribution entities serve foreign nationals first, leaving Spaniards behind; others cite this as their reason for stopping donations. No documents, criteria, or official figures support these versions. They are isolated testimonies.

Alongside this suspicion arises doubts about public funds. A round figure of €692 million allocated to migrant-serving organizations is cited as proof of diversion. Fund destinations, entity transparency, and religious orders' roles in food bank management remain unverified conjectures. What is factual is that institutional aid volume hasn't kept pace with rising chickpea prices.

From School Notes to Supermarket Queues

Others observe from the outside. Without donating, some watch who collects and who waits: noting constant campaigns at various stores—not just food banks—and recognizing that petitioners don't always fit extreme need profiles. Some demand audits of managing foundations before reopening wallets.

Long-term unemployment underpins the debate. Recurring stories include fathers unemployed for two years who applied for jobs with the same entities now asking for food, allegedly being told positions were reserved. Whether true, exaggerated, or resentful, such narratives fuel refusal. At the other extreme are those deciding to donate nothing—to NGOs, schools, or anyone.

What to Expect from the Campaign

With baskets 28.4% pricier and donor confidence low, it is reasonable to expect fewer filled boxes than two years ago and partial compliance with school lists. Christmas enthusiasm might cover some gaps, and final published figures could tell a different story. Until focus shifts from recipient identity to food costs, each home note will struggle to secure its bag.