Those in the Street

There is a man that lives on our corner. He is not mentally right. I am not sure what is wrong but he is not right. He is always around and people know he exists but most of the time he is left alone to do whatever it is he does. It seems like he goes around and picks up the trash in the area and puts it into the trash bin. I have noticed that in Maputo the homeless or those mentally handicapped seem to each have their territory in the city. I have been told by people that he picks up trash for the businesses. I am not sure if he gets paid food or what for doing this but somehow he has clothes and somehow he gets food. I hear him wondering around at night sometimes hitting the trash can.

This has been a huge weight on me because I understand Jesus message of justice for the poor and needy but I fail to see what role we can have in such a man’s life and honestly, in my flesh, I am scared to do anything or commit to anything. There are so many questions I think about. What if I talk to him, will he understand? Will it make any difference? Does he need food? I know in my heart I am not willing to give him a room to stay in and am afraid to do these things. Why? I suppose it is the uncertainty. Maybe he could hurt me. He could be on drugs. Does that mean I am not willing to follow Jesus to the utmost? I suppose it will always be a struggle and has been every time I meet someone as such. I am not sure if it is the same scenario as the Good Samaritan. The man on the side of the road could have been a normal guy that was robbed and not mentally handicapped and somehow I find it easier to think of helping someone like that then someone who is not right mentally and society has no place for him. Maybe it is because I do not know what to do. What is my role in that? One thing is for certain, it is hard to do it alone.

This morning it was raining and I was on my way to work. There were fewer people in the streets but I passed him. He normally sits next to a shop on the corner in the mornings cutting up cardboard boxes to put in the trash. As I walked up the street I heard a noise of shouting and beating. I turned around and a young man was yelling and beating him with a stick. He was groveling on the ground and his pants started to fall down. How degrading. I suddenly felt the surge of adrenaline and got really angry. Why are they beating a helpless man I thought? No matter what the cause it does not justify this. I suddenly found myself walking toward him and thought in my head that I am crazy for mixing in this business but I was too angry at the injustice of it to care, I needed to say something. I asked the guy, “What is the problem, why are you beating this man? He was very angry walking back and forth said something about him leaving trash on the sidewalk in front of the store. This was probably a just reason to be angry but not for beating someone. The only thing I could think to say was, “Do not beat him like this. Do not beat him.”

I suppose I should have picked the guy up and taken the trash and put it in the trash can but I didn’t. Maybe I did not think about it. Maybe it was because I had vented my anger and position against the injustice and was not willing to do more. Was it enough to salvage his dignity? Was it enough to call attention to the fact that this is a man and not an animal? I will never know and always be left wondering if I should have done more.