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Feeding the thousands, from Celtic to Southampton

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By on CQN BLOG & Comments

News that Southampton FC have nominated Mary’s Meals as their official international charity partner is a genuine great football story, and a significant landmark for the Scottish-based charity which now feeds over a millions children per day.

Mary’s Meals were in touch on Friday with news and photographs from the fourth school kitchen paid for by Celtic Quick News readers, in Chibwata, Malawi. Since the kitchen was built, school enrolment has increased by 34% to 1226 pupils. Each day over 4,000 pupils are fed in school kitchens built by CQN readers.
Marys Meals Chibwata 600

The school role has increased because of the availability of a daily meal, but as well as being better fed and healthier, hundreds of pupils are now getting an education who previously missed out.  Benefits are not limited to food today, there are lifetime benefits of getting a primary education, which will help the pupils and the nation as a whole for decades.

Those of you who have put the occasional £1 into Appeal alongside the Magners’ competitions we run, or who have put significantly more than this on occasion, should be enormously proud of what you’ve achieved.  It is a stunning testament to the Celtic support.  Thanks for all your help.

Celtic have done enormous work with Mary’s Meals in the past through the Foundation but let’s hope this break into English football opens up many more opportunities for the charity.
Winds3D

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  1. Herbo on

    Then you come on the internet pyoor pissed off cos those maniacs have disgraced ‘your’ club

     

     

    Haha

     

     

    Youre tragic. And youre the reasosnnwhy we’re barry white

  2. Herbo on

    I blame places like this and cybertims and that mince knob jockey for the discourse in our support. You all were nowhere to be seen before you had a keyboard.

  30. proudbhoy on

    I fought a monster today and once more I defeated the monster’s army. Although I did not escape, I survived to fight another day. It was hard. Harder today than ever before, and it gets worse every day. You see I am trapped and all I can do is resist. I know some day I will defeat this monster, but I weary at times. I think and feel that it may kill me first.

     

    The monster is shrewd. It plays with me; it humiliates me, and tortures me. I’m like a mouse in comparison to this giant, but when I repel the torture it inflicts upon me I feel ten feet tall for I know I am right. I know that I am what I am, no matter what may be inflicted upon me, and it will never change that fact.

     

    When I resist it doesn’t understand. You see it doesn’t even try to comprehend why I resist. Why don’t you give in to me it says. Give in, give in to us, the monsters army jibes. My body wants to say yes, yes, do what you want with me, I am beaten, you have beaten me, but my spirit prevails.

     

    My spirit says no, no, you cannot do what you want with me. I am not beaten, you cannot do what you want with me. I refuse to be beaten. This angers the monster. It goes mad, it brutalises me to the point of death, but it does not kill me. I often wonder why not, but each time I face it, death materialised before me. The monster keeps me naked, it feeds me, but it didn’t feed me today, because it had tried so hard to defeat me and failed, this angered it once more. You see I know why it won’t kill me.It wants me to bow before it, to admit defeat.

     

    If you don’t do as I say, I will never release you, I refuse?

     

    My body is broken and cold. I’m lonely and I need comfort. From somewhere afar I hear those familiar voices which keep me going: We are with you, son. We are with you. Don’t let them beat you.

     

    I need to hear those voices. They anger the monster. It retreats. The voices scare the devils. Sometimes I really long to hear those voices. I know if they shout louder they will scare the monster away and my suffering will be ended.

     

    I remember, and I shall never forget, how this monster took the lives of Tom Ashe, Terence MacSwiney, Michael Gaughan, Frank Stagg, and Hugh Coney, and I wonder each night what the monster and his black devils will do to me tomorrow.

     

    They always have something new. Will I overcome it? I must. Yes, I must. Tomorrow will be my seven hundred and fortieth day of torture — an eternity. Yes, tomorrow I’ll rise in the H-Blocks of Long Kesh. Yes, tomorrow I’ll fight the monster and his devils again!”

     

    Monsters do not exist, neither do devils?-Bobby Sands

  31. Herbo on

    A daft auld man joke figure in the Brazen. He wont be lifting his hands to me or any of my mates in the SODS

  33. Herbo on

    I SEE his blood upon the rose

     

    And in the stars the glory of his eyes,

     

    His body gleams amid eternal snows,

     

    His tears fall from the skies.

     

     

    I see his face in every flower;

     

    The thunder and the singing of the birds

     

    Are but his voice—and carven by his power

     

    Rocks are his written words.

     

     

    All pathways by his feet are worn,

     

    His strong heart stirs the ever-beating sea,

     

    His crown of thorns is twined with every thorn,

     

    His cross is every tree.

     

     

    Joseph Mary Plunkett IRA

  34. Herbo on

    Oglagh Bobby Sands. Belfast Brigade 1st Battalion

     

     

    I am standing on the threshold of another trembling world. May God have mercy on my soul.

     

    My heart is very sore because I know that I have broken my poor mother’s heart, and my home is struck with unbearable anxiety. But I have considered all the arguments and tried every means to avoid what has become the unavoidable: it has been forced upon me and my comrades by four-and-a-half years of stark inhumanity.

     

    I am a political prisoner. I am a political prisoner because I am a casualty of a perennial war that is being fought between the oppressed Irish people and an alien, oppressive, unwanted regime that refuses to withdraw from our land.

     

    I believe and stand by the God-given right of the Irish nation to sovereign independence, and the right of any Irishman or woman to assert this right in armed revolution. That is why I am incarcerated, naked and tortured.

     

    Foremost in my tortured mind is the thought that there can never be peace in Ireland until the foreign, oppressive British presence is removed, leaving all the Irish people as a unit to control their own affairs and determine their own destinies as a sovereign people, free in mind and body, separate and distinct physically, culturally and economically.

     

    I believe I am but another of those wretched Irishmen born of a risen generation with a deeply rooted and unquenchable desire for freedom. I am dying not just to attempt to end the barbarity of H-Block, or to gain the rightful recognition of a political prisoner, but primarily because what is lost in here is lost for the Republic and those wretched oppressed whom I am deeply proud to know as the ‘risen people’.

     

    There is no sensation today, no novelty that October 27th brought. (The starting date of the original seven man hunger-strike) The usual Screws were not working. The slobbers and would-be despots no doubt will be back again tomorrow, bright and early.

     

    I wrote some more notes to the girls in Armagh today. There is so much I would like to say about them, about their courage, determination and unquenchable spirit of resistance. They are to be what Countess Markievicz, Anne Devlin, Mary Ann McCracken, Marie MacSwiney, Betsy Gray, and those other Irish heroines are to us all. And, of course, I think of Ann Parker, Laura Crawford, Rosemary Bleakeley, and I’m ashamed to say I cannot remember all their sacred names.

     

    Mass was solemn, the lads as ever brilliant. I ate the statutory weekly bit of fruit last night. As fate had it, it was an orange, and the final irony, it was bitter. The food is being left at the door. My portions, as expected, are quite larger than usual, or those which my cell-mate Malachy is getting.

  35. proudbhoy on

    Cheers herbo

     

     

    Never read that poem before.

     

     

    p.s

     

     

    TD67 been pretty quietly lately , please don’t awaken him. Just stick to the things in life you enjoy.. A lot easier .

     

     

    Until that certain day ✊

  37. Herbo on

    Is Martin on cqn?

     

     

    “I believe and stand by the God-given right of the Irish nation to sovereign independence, and the right of any Irishman or woman to assert this right in armed revolution. That is why I am incarcerated, naked and tortured.”

  40. Herbo on

    Of course.

     

     

    Outwith Davitt and Glass

     

     

    The Irish Tricolour was sent to goal machine Jimmy McGrory from the Garngad. A huge political statement at the time.

     

     

    But you rockets kid yerself on its just fitbaw

     

     

    Its quite funny, makes us go even merr mental at away days

     

     

    Love you x

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