It is 10 o’clock on a Tuesday night and Prescod pushes a trolley containing the tools of his humble trade through a rough street in The City.
He pauses to speak to two men, one of them former Member of Parliament Patrick Todd, the location of whose office at Reed Street, makes it an attraction for some of the colourful characters who reside or frequent the capital. Even at this hour, Prescod, a 46-year-old car washer, is hoping to find a bit of work before he retires for the night.
Next night at 6:45 p.m. Mitchinson Brathwaite waits outside a building at School Road, Hindsbury Road, St Michael, with a small bag, the sum of his possessions. It is early still but Mitchinson, 66, is ready to turn in for the night.
The two stories are varied but their circumstances at night are the same. Some homeless stories start simply; hard times because of job loss, a major medical bill, fire or plain inability to resist drugs. These two are among the more than 300 accounted for homeless.
“This could happen to anybody. Nobody knows where they will end up but as long as you are living anything could happen,” said Mitchinson, who sleeps at the Clyde Gollop Shelter.
When the shelter was closed for repairs and the men were moved to another location, Mitchinson slept on the streets in 2010 after the generosity of others ran out or his welfare cheque wasn’t enough to satisfy his renting arrangement. He took to sleeping outside a church and a bus shed before returning to the still under repair shelter. Using a piece of tarpaulin to shield him from the night weather and cushions to get comfortable, Mitchinson slept without giving regard to his safety.
“I wasn’t thinking about being afraid,” he said. “That wasn’t my concern. I continue to trust in the Lord . . . I came back down here because the people know me.” He added that he did not want to move to The Pine where the other relocated men were.
A “Mother Teresa” living opposite the shelter saw Mitchinson’s plight and ensured he got food and supplies.
“I don’t know what may happen to my children when I’m gone. Whoever I can help I help. They come here and I help them,” said the woman who preferred to remain anonymous.
Mitchinson speaks highly of her and her generosity and others who assist him daily with meals. He knew when he returned from the United States in 2009 that his visual impairment would affect his ability to earn a living and after moving from relatives’ to friends’ homes he ended up homeless.
“This is where I am now but not where I plan to be for the rest of my life,” he said.
It isn’t impossible for him to rebound just as it is possible others could find themselves in his position.
“If your home burns and you are staying at different people, aren’t you homeless? Never say never. You see some people in shelters that you wouldn’t expect but something happened; drugs, alcohol.”
It is addiction, Prescod readily admitted, that has him living out of an abandoned building. Twenty five years ago he fell in with the wrong crowd and from that first draw of cocaine has not returned to his former self. In the quest to satisfy the constant craving and avoid the pressures of relatives, Prescod began spending more and more time away from home and eventually he endured life on the streets.
Kwayne Farrell, primary coordinator at the rehabilitation facility Verdun House, said that there are some cases where the addiction leads to homelessness if the client is unable to pay rent or leaves home to avoid questions about drinking or drug use.
“Sometimes they would end up homeless from time to time,” Farrell said. “It may not be lengthy, six months, or a year before they come into treatment and reconnect with their family. The length of time before they end up on streets may vary, it could be one use and they hit rock bottom.”
Prescod, a labourer by trade, believes a turnaround is possible but his addiction is still strong and on this night he was seeking $5 for something to eat.
“I’m straight up. If I want something to eat I will say it is for something to eat, if it is for drugs I will say I want something,” he said.
He roams the streets until late before he and some others gather near Reed Street to talk and then settle in for the night. He has no preferred time to rise in the morning; it could be anywhere around 11.
Recent Commonwealth awardee Kemar Saffrey, who heads the non-profit Barbados Vagrants and Homeless Society, which aims to reintegrate the homeless into mainstream society, is concerned that some organisations may be enabling the homeless by constantly fulfilling certain needs. One of these is supplying meals so the homeless person does not feel the desire to reintegrate into society.
“The more you feed them the more dependent they become. That poses a threat,” Saffrey said.
On Wednesday night his team and the Chapel Gap Nazarene Church were feeding scores at Heroes Square. All were not homeless, some told tales of difficulty in finding work so the occasional meal helped.
Saffrey explained that the feeding programme is an avenue to reach the homeless but too many players may keep the down-and-out in that position.
