A 26 year old addict
Who lives on the streets of downtown Auckland
With his younger brother
Who begs across the road.
Albert looks old
Much older than his years would say
With years in his eyes that shouldn't exist
And pain etched in the lines of his face.
I met Albert when one day
I chose not to just buy him coffee
Not to simply give some coins
But to spend my lunch hour sitting on the curb
Watching people pass
And feeling as insignificant as he does daily.
A few days after meeting Albert I asked him
"what's your story?
How did you end up here with a strange woman
Sitting at your side,
Feeding you Mickey d's?"
He looked at me with a bemused smile and replied
"it's the same old story, nothing exciting."
I pressed on and eventually he gave in.
This is what he told me...
He told me of a mother with too many kids and too many addictions
Of a father barely remembered and gladly so.
He spoke of violence and police
Of a string of houses
Where kids were paychecks
Siblings were separated
And sex, violence and abuse were normal.
Then he told me of the day a young 15 year old boy
Fled from a house that was never a home
Found his brother
And they stole into the night
On to the streets
Where they formed a life together.
At the end of his tale Albert laughed to see tears in my eyes.
For him, this story was typical,
For me, this story was terrible.
My anger at the injustice of it all burned within me.
He just shrugged and adjusted his blanket.
I got to know Albert more over the passing weeks.
I learned when he was high and wouldn't recognize me.
I sat with him when he was sober.
I saw him assessing the price of my engagement ring with his eyes when he was dying for a fix.
On those days I stood.
I bought him salad when he told me people only ever bought him fast food.
I learned his favourite brand of coffee.
And I met his friends.
Ross is a friend of Albert's.
They get high together, sharing a joint when money is low
Sharing glue when it is lowest.
He told me a story of a Christian family that didn't spare the rod or spoil the child
Of running away as a boy
Of finding solace with Mary Jane.
He ended up on the streets and tried to leave
After going to a detox centre
Being set up in an apartment
Trying to find a job.
But life is hard in a house when your friends are on the street.
When no one will hire you for lack of qualifications
When you become reliant on the government to help you live.
'Corporate begging' was his name for the dole.
He was lonely
Alone
Afraid.
So he went where he was known
Went back to his street family
Went back to Mary Jane
And though he wishes he was clean,
He is happier now than 'caged'.
I want to introduce you to my friend Albert.
A 26 year old addict
Who lives on the streets of downtown Auckland
With his younger brother
Who begs across the road.
Albert looks old
Much older than his years would say
With years in his eyes that shouldn't exist
And pain etched in the lines of his face.
He is man who is broken and asks for some patience.
He is a man who wants to be seen.
Do you see him?
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