The Tipping Point

How do you live with the knowledge that while you’re baking banana bread and clocking up your 10,000 daily steps on the beach, somewhere not too far away there’s a woman like you facing ruin and despair because her job doesn’t exist anymore, her partner has spiralled into depression, she’s deep in debt, hasn’t seen her parents in months and she’s trying to keep her kids from killing each other confined in a high-rise flat with flimsy walls, and can’t see any hope of anything getting better anytime soon. And that, let’s be honest, is not even the worst case scenario.

The UK’s vaccination roll-out has been an undeniable success, and the levels of hospitalisations from Covid have plummetted. Those most at risk are now protected – why are we still cowering under restrictions?

I think it is now morally repugnant to hide away in comfort at home while our fellow humans suffer monstrous and now pointless injustice, as every additional day of restrictions brings with it an ever-increasing burden of misery and despair.

I’m lucky: I have a nice house with a garden, with woodland and beach walks on my doorstep. My business is mothballed but my partner is working full-time from home, we’ve got good wifi, and my kid is getting a decent – independent – education online. We are NOT all in this together, and I don’t think anyone in a similar situation can believe that we are.

The cruelty and unfairness is eating my soul away. Last Tuesday, on listening to Scotland’s FM push the goalposts even further into distance while announcing impossible conditions for the full reopening of our lives, I finally accepted that doing nothing was no longer an option.

So Cake and Liberty was born.

I’m going public, and making a protest.  A cheerful, peaceful and family-friendly protest, that – arguably – is still entirely within the law as it stands. Please join in, wherever you are.

Might as well put those new-found baking skills to good use, eh?