We should salute the providers of free advice for those in need

ON September 4, 1939, less than 24 hours after Britain and France declared war on Germany, 200 Citizens Advice Bureaux sprang up in homes and public buildings around the country.

Scotland’s first was in Glasgow where, like its counterparts across the UK, volunteers worked around the clock to help people with problems related to rationing, evacuation, lost family members, and other emergencies provoked by the trauma of war.

In the 81 years since, though the problems faced by the population have changed in nature, the bureaux have never stopped operating.

In Scotland, 60 individual bureaux now exist at the heart of diverse communities, providing vital services every day alongside like-minded organisations such as law and money advice centres.

The free advice sector is one with few frills or fanfares.

Some of my earliest childhood memories are of fundraisers and celebrations for such groups in Castlemilk in the south of Glasgow, where my late granny lived and chaired the board at Castlemilk Law Centre while being involved in various other community projects.

These events took place in unassuming halls where ordinary people gathered to enjoy home baking and drink tea out of paper cups, but they were more vibrant and warm than any corporate sponsorship event I’ve attended in the years since, because they were a pure expression of community and compassion.

Similarly, the everyday work of advising on debt, benefits, housing and rights isn’t always glamorous but it is the work which keeps communities ticking along. Some might turn to a CAB or law centre for a one-off workplace issue or single benefits claim, while others rely on them throughout their lives. For many, disconnected from other services by finance, infrastructure or a lack of digital literacy or access, they will be a solitary lifeline.

It’s easy to measure the sector’s success with pragmatism – millions of pounds claimed in benefits; thousands of clients advised; hundreds of