While conducting a quick scan of proceedings in my area last Monday, I noted the ease with which tardy electors were on public walkways negotiating what appears to be a growing population of seemingly homeless people in my general space incorporating St Joseph, Curepe, and Tunapuna.
True,
on election day, these people appeared as scarce as midday voters and open bars.
Maybe it is, as some suspect, that “they living somewhere” and roam as
mendicants solely in the dark seeking unsecured bins and familiar philanthropists
who won’t throw things at them or chase them away.
But,
Monday evening, after they had survived weeks of loudspeakers, canvassing
teams, and frenetic politicking, did any of them find time or opportunity to look
on quietly in the opportunistic hope that the solemn task would eventually yield
rewards?
You
couldn’t bet on any animated huddle around a television set or radio – except
perhaps those who “live somewhere” and leave with clean shirts at night. I don’t
know.
It
however would not have been irrational for them to have been absent. For, if
they listened to the loudspeakers, they would not have heard much about themselves,
if at all; not even as a national challenge requiring localised, community solutions.
Though
official focus appears preoccupied with the poor condition of Port of Spain, it’s
not absolutely different in numerous other communities throughout the country. Maybe
in numbers, but not in essential nature.
In
our neck of the woods, in the east, there are now familiar faces (and a growing
number of new ones) with numerous heart-breaking real and fictitious stories
for which food, drinks, and/or money provide solutions.
The
more fortunate meanwhile have the option of crossing the street, walking
around, pretending not to hear, or digging deep and hoping they forget you the
next time you pass. “Things not easy these days, boy.”
There
was one guy I remember from my teenage years. He went to secondary school, played
some decent softball cricket, a little football, and smoked weed with the rest
of us.
He
disappeared for years, then re-emerged about five years ago as a Curepe
Junction regular. Conversations often turned quickly to money or food.
Last
week, I asked the oysterman and learned that this old friend had died less than
a year ago.
I
remember back in 1987 with the advent of a new political administration, there
was the bold pronouncement by the humanitarian-minded that “vagrancy” would end
sooner rather than later. Like the “cleanup” that occurred that January. That
it was simply a matter of “political will” to get it done.
At
that time, and perhaps not for the very first time, there was a well-publicised
effort to address situations such as my late friend’s, as outcomes of underlying
social, economic, and medical conditions. I must have written thousands of words
of news copy explaining what had been considered 36 years ago. It all seemed to
make sense.
However,
it appeared to me then, as it does now, that national politicians should concede
greater space to community wisdom on such matters, and kindly step aside.
Otherwise, what we are left with are resolute soundbites, headlines, and convenient
shibboleths.
There
is evidence that people who have been employing science and not politics to dissect
the growing incidence of homelessness/mendicancy here have a grip not only on the
underlying conditions, but some of what is necessary to humanely address the
challenge.
Young
psychologist, Sule Joseph, broke things down rather competently in a recent
newspaper interview. He cited the multifaceted nature of homelessness and the
psychological underpinnings of some elements of the phenomenon.
As
has been explained before, and impressively restated by Joseph, there are
issues that have much to do with the rest of us at stake. This is no mere
outcome of “laziness” or wilful protest against the status quo – though there
are those, according to Joseph, who decide to opt out of the rat race. Indeed,
some have been pushed out.
Back
in 1987, it had been explained that while homelessness was sometimes the
outcome of financial collapse and/or familial discord, there were more often
than not instances where mental illness and (not unrelated) substance abuse had
been causative factors.
Amateurs
such as the politicians who have proposed solutions including coercive exile to
outlying islands, prison, and high-power hoses, typically remain silent on such
matters during election campaigns.
Last
Monday was no exception. An opportunity was lost to explain how local
organisation and action can, indeed, resolve an important matter of national
concern. What were the issues that sidelined it?