a thought, i thought.

I was in Amanzimtoti yesterday. I’m not a fan of Amanzimtoti to be quite honest with you – I’ve always thought it a bit “dodgy” – but that is not what this post is about – in fact, it does not really have anything to do with Amanzimtoti. I’m just saying because that’s where it happened. That’s where I thought my thought – it could have been anywhere.

While sitting on the sun deck at “The Reef Pub & Grill” (read: very dodgy spot) I noticed a homeless man walking down the street with his blanket.

The sun has tanned him browner than he should be. He does not look like he has bathed in months. Hair so matted and tangled I shudder to think what could possibly be growing in there. I looked over at my boyfriend and said

“See that man. He has nothing. He walks this street up and down, begging for a R2 here and there for bread, carrying nothing but his blanket. I suppose he has no destination in mind right either, he is just walking and when he stops walking he will be wherever it is that he wants to be”

I joked that all he did have was fleas.

And then I thought about how often we read stories of the rich and famous or even just the ordinary man and woman who have good jobs. Maybe loving partners and children. People who have homes and cars and bills to pay. A bed to sleep in, a kitchen to cook in. And there are these people out there – with all this stuff, who are so very depressed and not happy with their hand in life, who commit suicide.

And so I ask – when was the last time you heard of a homeless person found hanging in a tree in the park? A homeless person found after slitting her wrists with a broken beer bottle found lying in a gutter somewhere?

These are people with nothing. No where to go. No one to love, no one to love them back. It rains, they are wet. If it’s cold they wrap themselves up in filthy blankets dug up out of trash cans or just dirty because they have not been washed in a couple of months.

When it’s a really crazy hot day outside, they need to find a shady tree to sit under. I go inside and turn on the aircon.

Just makes me think we take way too much for granted. Maybe they are not the ones who are mad. Maybe, just maybe the old hobo talking to himself in the rain under the bus stop has “The Secret”

He smiles more often than that Aunty covered in gold and smelling like Red Door pushing her trolley through Woolworths does.