An Elderly Human I Met At Victoria
This never-ending, arduous and long winded term decided to come to a close, after weeks of going out, dull lectures, meetings, deadlines, nights of 4 hours sleep and heavy hangovers, the term had finally come to a close. I am pretty drained at this point, I have been pulled in all sorts of different directions and I am feeling like the world is on my shoulders.
A combination of my activism and workload as a medical student has weighed heavily upon me. I feel people’s problems as if they are my own, some people say this is a great quality to have, I am not sure to what extent I agree as this quality is the reason I sleep so little.
This post isn’t about me, it is about a man I met on the way to my family home in Bromley.
I got off the underground at Victoria and walked out in front of the big electric departure boards above the platforms. I was already in a terrible mood as the 4 bags I was carrying were beginning to hurt my hands and shoulders (the student commuting life), but to add to my already fantastic mood my train was delayed by 10 minutes. I plugged in my earphones and played “Do For Love” by 2Pac, one of my favourite songs at the moment to try and calm myself.
I was zoning out waiting for my train when a short, brown-skinned elderly man came up and tapped me. I looked at him bewildered and shocked out of my daydream. He had yellow eyes and was missing a few teeth. His beard was scraggly and white, he wore a large black leather jacket over a white hoodie, black trousers and a white beanie.
“Do you have any money?” he asked, “I am very thirsty and I have walked around all day and I want to drink a beer”. I found his request strange as beer isn’t the best beverage for quenching thirst but I didn’t have the energy to argue.
One of the things I live by is to give anyone who is in need, a meal or some change when I can, so that they can at least for a moment remember what kindness and generosity is. So they can ultimately feel like a human being again and not a pest or vermin, even if it is for one moment.
I handed the man £2 change and he thanked me. He then told me “I knew you would help me, my spirit told me you would help”. I looked at him puzzled. I believe in spiritual energy but his statement took me by surprise.
He then brought out a piece of paper with the Samaritans’ phone line details written down on it and asked me to help find their address. “Samaritans is an online helpline only” I replied.
“So they can’t give me a place to sleep? Is there anywhere I can get some food and sleep”.
My heart wrenched, in that moment I felt solely responsible for this man’s wellbeing, I rung countless homeless shelters and helplines from the Samaritans to St.Mungos. Each line I called came up busy or was unavailable, it was about 10pm so I don’t know what I was expecting. I dialled each number frantically as he watched me hopefully, waiting for some success. After calling about 10 homeless shelters in a 10 mile radius I had to break the news to him that there wasn’t anywhere open.
“There’s nothing?” he asked frantically, “I need a place to sleep, where will I sleep?”.
I felt for him. I really did, especially knowing that I was previously annoyed about my train being delayed knowing full well I had a warm bed to sleep in and food waiting for me when I got home.
We talked back and forth as we explored options for him for that night, as I called up more places and searched my phone for more addresses, he told me that he was from Mauritania. He had no sons or daughters, no family, and his wife had left him. He said when he had gone up to ask people for help, they had sworn at him and pushed him away as he had begged for help. He had been called names, been looked at with disgust and ignored, his eyes began to water.
I studied him as he talked and he explained what he had been through, his eyes had a faraway distant look, his features looked pained, I could see he was tired, not fatigued, but tired, his eyes gave that all away.
He reminded me of my grandpa as he lectured me a little bit telling me not to smoke, drink or do drugs and that I shouldn’t drop out of education.
Eventually, we concluded there was nothing I could do to help him but give him an address he could go to the next day. In a last ditch effort to help him, I gave him £5 more, to which he took reluctantly insisting that, “You’re a student I can’t take too much money from you!”, eventually I departed and got on my train.
Lost in the spontaneity of the situation and the depth of the conversation, I realised I forgot to ask his name.
Amidst war, conflict, corporate and government greed we have people like the elderly man I met that day, who don’t want power and control, stocks or shares, they don’t want a BMW i8, they don’t want the newest pair of Nike or Adidas trainers, they don’t want the new Stony Island jumper or the new MAC lipstick, they don’t want a Ciroc magnum bottle either.
So what is it they want you ask? Simple. They want food, water, a warm place to sleep, some stability for their families, some peace and quiet, some security— but most of all they want some humanity.
These people in situations that were forced upon them, Just. Want. Some. Humanity.
Next time someone asks you for some spare change or help at least look them in the eye and remind them they are human.
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