| Product: |
Homelessness and street begging |
| Date: |
17/06/07 (133 review reads) |
| Rating: |
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Advantages: None
Disadvantages: People are leading lives of hell
I wake up in the morning, in my super-comfortable bed, stretch, put my lovely, soft robe on, and stagger to the bathroom where I use my own clean toilet. I wash my hands with clean water, soap and dry them on a fresh clean towel. I stagger downstairs and go to the kitchen. I open my fridge, which is stocked full of fresh foods, and take out the orange juice. I pour myself a glass and go and switch the TV on. I have a look at the news, and go back to the kitchen to make myself some tea and toast. I go back upstairs and have a nice, warm, refreshing shower, dry myself on a nice clean towel and brush my teeth. I get dressed, do my hair and makeup, get my things together and leave the house. I am going into the city centre for a shopping trip. I go to my car, and drive to the city. I take these luxuries for granted, not having them doesn't even cross my mind. In my own arrogance, I leave the house without a care in the world.
Whilst I am doing all of these things in the luxury of my own house there is a young woman already in the city centre that morning. She has not used her bathroom this morning, she has not had a refreshing breakfast, nor a wash, she has used an alleyway for her bathroom as the public toilets were locked. She has not brushed her hair, as she doesn't own a hair brush, never mind any make-up. Her clothes smell terrible and have holes in. She hasn't brushed her teeth for around 3 weeks. She doesn't have a TV to watch, and she even doesn't have a comfortable bed to sleep in. She isn't on a shopping trip, without a care in the world, she is fighting for survival.
I get to the city centre and park up. I start off with a few high street clothes shops, and spend around £25.00. I am happy with my purchases, and carry on browsing the shops. Around an hour later I stop for a rest. I go to a coffee shop and hand over £2 for a cup of coffee. I sit, enjoying my coffee, thinking over my purchases and what shops I am going to visit next. I finish my coffee and the shopping spree continues.
The young woman is sitting in a doorway. She is cold, and hungry. It is 10am She has to wait until 4pm for something to eat. Hopefully. She has heard there is a food handout at a local community centre that afternoon. She hasn't eaten for 24 hours and is looking forward to this. She just hopes that there isn't too much of a queue and she will have to get there early. With around 7 million people in London, and there being more than 50,000 homeless people on the streets, she has to be quick. Just the night before she walked for 2 hours trying to find a doorway to sleep in, without getting moved on, or it being already occupied. She had tried 3 hostels, but they were all full. Sometimes she has been lucky to get a bed in a hostel for the night, but only a few times. She carried some cardboard boxes and her only blanket for a comfortable sleep. The blanket she has, is a soft fleece, blue blanket. It is only small, as it is a baby blanket. Around 3 weeks before she had seen a baby throw it from a pram, and the mother didn't notice. The young woman felt so guilty, but she new the mother could probably afford another one, so she took the blanket and kept it. She is tired and aching, but food is important, so she gets up and trudges through the city centre, for the 3 mile walk for food.
She first came to London 2 years ago, when she was 16. She had ran away from home as her father had sexually abused her for years. After one particular brutal rape, she confessed all to her Mother. Her Mother didn't believe her and threw her out of the house. She never looked back. She couldn't look back as she knew that nobody wanted her, nobody believed her and she was now on her own. She had £45 to her name, but that lasted less than a week as she didn't know how to survive on her own. She jumped on a train to london and hid in the toilets so she would get away with not having a ticket. She will never forget that first week in London. She learnt some of the tricks of the trade. She was beaten, and she was raped. She shoplifted, and got tempted my another girl to become a prostitute to earn money, but she decided against this. She dreamt every night of a warm clean bed that she could call her own, and one day she would get it, but for now survival was top of priorites.
Meanwhile, I am in Topshop. I'm in a predicament. Do I buy the dress or the skirt and top? I have been in the Topshop changing rooms for 20 minutes trying to figure this mess out. If I buy both, that is a big chunk of my money spent for the shopping trip, and I have more shops that I want to visit, so I just opt for the top and leave the skirt and dress there. I am happy, over the moon in fact, with my treats so far and continue up Oxford Street.
The young woman has stopped on Oxford street. She is only around a mile from the hand out and still has 4 hours to kill. She knows that the meal hand out, if she gets it, at 4pm will not last her for long. She still has to eat later that day, or if not then, the following morning. She picks up a discarded paper cup and sits outside an unoccupied shop, which is practically derelict, but still in a busy area just off Oxford steet. Endless asking for "Any spare change please?" in an hour gets her 22p. Another few hours of doing this will get her, hopefully enough for a hot drink and even maybe a sandwich later on. Other than that, it will be having a look through the rubbish bins outside fast food outlets, as she had done the day before. She had found a real treat of nearly a full pizza, still warm and had devoured every last bit. That was just lucky though, sometimes the food has maggots on, especialy in warm weather, but it is good to get lucky every now and then.
I am still on Oxford street, and have so many bags of treats that my arms are aching. I decide to go back to the car, to drop the bags off and then carry on shopping. I turn off Oxford street, and see a young woman sat on the floor, holding a paper cup. She asks me "Any spare change please?". I mutter a sympathetic, "Sorry, no I haven't", knowing full well I have got change in my purse, some in my pocket too, but I put my head down, feel a little awkward, and carry on walking. Seconds later the woman disappears from my head and I start to worry, "where the hell did I park the car??". Around 10 minutes later I find the car, put my bags in the boot, and make a mental note of where the car is! I leave the car park, and return to the shopping spree.
The young woman has now made £1.30. A generous man came past and gave her a pound coin. She must keep this money save, and she removes the pound coin from the cup and puts it in her pocket. When she first came to London, 2 years ago she had made the mistake of leaving £3.00 in her cup and another homeless person had come along, punched her, giving her a black eye and had stolen the money from her. She had learnt from this and now kept the larger amounts of money hidden. That way, if she did get hit or threatened, she could take that, and she wouldn't lose her money too. She also has a hot cup of tea, a kind old lady came up to her and handed her the tea. She said however, "I don't mind getting you the tea, as if I give you money, it will only go on bad things". The young woman thanked her, and did appreciate it, but she did feel a little angry, as she can only assume that the old lady meant the "bad things" were drink or drugs, which the young woman had never touched in her life and she was very proud of this. Just another stereotype, but never mind, she is more than happy with the tea! She hasn't had a warm cup of tea in 3 days.
I am again overloaded with bags, and my shopping trip is coming to an end. My last stop in Mcdonalds for an unhealthy feast, which I was seriously ready for. Shopping can be hard work, which deserves a lovely fill up on junk food. I leave McDonalds, and just outside, the is a young man with his arm reaching in the bin. He pulls out a half eaten burger and eats the lot. I feel a little sick on seeing this. It just isn't nice! I go back to my car and drive home.
The young woman gets to the community centre an hour early and there is already a queue forming of around 30 people. This is okay, as she has been to things like this before where there have been more than 200 people queuing, so this isn't too bad at all. She gets talking to a guy in the queue who tells her there is another handout the next day at another centre around 6 miles away. The young woman is grateful for this and will certainly be going. She reaches the front of the queue eventually and gets a hot cup of soup and 2 pieces of bread. This has made her feel 100 times better. She spents the rest of the night carrying her paper cup, gaining small amounts of change, a used condom which was thrown at her by some drunken idiots, and a bruised leg from falling over, while running away from a complete wierdo, who she seriously thought was going to rape her. This is just the normal though and she is thankful, again, as she is at the end of every day that she is still alive and unharmed.
I get home and look through my purchases. I am really pleased with my bargains, and some, not such bargains, but I am tired out! I spend an hour or so just tidying up, and pottering around. I ring my friends and organise a night out for the following week. I go for a nice warm bath, put my robe on and make myself some dinner. A warm jacket potato, with tuna and salad. I slump in front of the TV for the rest of the night. I start to watch a documentory on homelessness in London. It is so disturbing and the amount of trauma and abuse that these people go through is shocking. Suddenly, my mind casts back to the woman sitting in the street just off Oxford Street. She asked me for money, spare change, and I gave her nothing, and carried on walking. When I looked at her, I felt pity, but at the same time, felt that if she wanted to get out of the situation and sort her life out then she could. I'm sure that is what alot of people think, even if they won't admit it. The documentory really disturbed me and when I went to bed that night, I couldn't get the image of that young woman trying to find a place to sleep for the night, out of my head, and ended up with a restless night's sleep.
The young woman throughout this story is a fictional woman, but the fact that I saw a young woman on the streets, and in those places and the things that were said are true. She doesn't have a name on the streets - she is just a number, just another street begger. But there are 50,000 people on the streets of London alone, not including the rest of the country. There are many many reasons why people end up there. Most people who end up on the streets are there through no fault of their own, but we continue to ignore them, look down on them, and walk on by.
Each time I go out now to London, I make sure I give any spare change to any homeless people in the area. It isn't a solution to the UK's growing problem, but it helps a little. Anyone can end up on the streets, and I honestly hope I never do. If I did I would like to think people would be kind enough to help me out a little.
In future when you are in city centre, and you see a street begger, or homeless person, just given them the loose change in your pocket. You won't miss it, just don't spend £2 on that cup of coffee, or don't buy a newspaper for the rest of the week, it isn't difficult. I know from now on, I will do this, and I admit, just through the guilt of not giving that young woman some change during my day in London.
If you don't feel that giving money to homeless people on the streets, is right for whatever reason - some of the street beggers do spend this money on drink or drugs - then you can give to numerous charities or shelters in and around London, or the local area that you live in.
Useful information can be found at:
www.crisis.org
www.centrepoint.org.uk
www.cras h.org.uk
www.homelesslondon.org.uk
www.mungos.org
www.shp.org.uk
Summary: Don't walk on by - It could be you one day.
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