A day with a crippled beggar
A day with a crippled beggar
Nawi, 29, is a former leprosy patient, but the disease has
left him crippled and with few fingers and toes. A former
cigarette seller, he now ekes out a living begging on Jl.
Panglima Polim in Blok M, South Jakarta. Born in Indramayu, West
Java, an only child, he lives with his wife, Wati, in Tangerang,
West Java. He spoke about his life to The Jakarta Post's William
Furney.
"When I wake up, at about 2 p.m., I'm still tired. But I get
off the floor where I sleep and then wash and pray. I have to go
back to sleep then for another hour or so. When I get up I'll
have something to eat, if there is anything. Usually just some
rice. Wati doesn't work and just stays at home all day. We live
in a petak (semipermanent house) which is just one small room
where we sleep and eat. We don't have anything like a television,
radio or even a refrigerator. I pay Rp 65,000 a month to the
owner of the house. It's a lot of money for me and if I don't pay
we'll be kicked out.
I'll often go to a nearby rehabilitation center to see friends
who are there. They're lepers too and I give them some food and
cigarettes. But the center is more like a jail.
I've been there three times myself. The police picked me up
for begging on the street. It's a horrible place; there's not
enough food or water to wash with. We have to wear handcuffs all
the time, even in the rooms we stay in, which are like jail
cells. We have to eat the food they give us through a hatch in
the door, and with the cuffs on it's not easy to do. I tried to
run away from the police the first time they nabbed me but I
couldn't as my legs were too bad. I was meant to be in for three
months, but I got out after two weeks because I gave an officer
Rp 150,000. I had to borrow the money from friends. The two other
times I was there I couldn't get any money so I had to stay for
the full three months. Nowadays, I couldn't care if they put me
in the center again; I guess it's my destiny.
I got leprosy when I was 9 years old. But I didn't know what
it was. I just put some Jamu (traditional herbal medicine) on the
sores. Later, it got worse and I went to the Sitanala leper
hospital in Tangerang. I was there for three years. It was nice
staying there, the food was good but I had to have money to pay
the Rp 30,000 every month. The doctors were good.
It's just my father now that's alive. He lives outside Jakarta
but he never comes to see me. He's afraid of me. I haven't seen
him for nearly 10 years. If I go to the village, I'd have to stay
indoors as people wouldn't want to come near me.
I met my wife in Tangerang; I used to see her hanging around
on the streets. It took a while before we got together as she
didn't have leprosy and she was afraid of me at first. We're
married three years now but don't have any children. I guess it's
because I'm not strong or healthy. Often I have to lie down and
take medicine for infections and the pain.
Right now, it's my legs that hurt, and I have to bandage up my
hands. Most of my finger and toes are gone. Sometimes, rats eat
at my feet at night and I can't feel it. The feeling is all gone.
I'll leave the house at about 3 p.m. and go to Blok M. I get
there by bus. I feel ashamed on the bus as the other passengers
often move away from me.
I've been begging for about a year. Before this, I used to
sell cigarettes, but as my condition got worse people stopped
buying. They were afraid to come near and didn't want to buy
cigarettes I'd handled. The first time I went begging was hard,
but I've gotten used to it. I'm ashamed of course, but if I'm too
ashamed I won't be able to eat. I usually get between Rp 18,000
to Rp 20,000 in one night. It's enough to pay the rent and buy
food. I don't know how much longer I'll do it for, but there's no
other way for me to get money.
Some days I can't go out onto the streets as I'm too ill. I
have to stay at home and rest.
I think my life is so difficult and sometimes I can hardly
stand it. To have leprosy is horrible. I need to die and I've
thought about killing myself; I know it's a sin and I'd go to
hell. I'd feel terrible about leaving Wati behind, but she'd find
someone else. I love her but I really don't want to live anymore.
I've forgotten what it would be like to be healthy and to have a
normal life.
I usually don't have anything to eat when I'm begging. The
pollution from the cars and buses don't make me feel too well
anyway. Some people see me on the street and buy me a drink or
something. There are a lot of people who feel pity for me and I'm
grateful for them.
I'll stay on the street until there's no traffic left, just a
few taxis driving around. That's usually about 2 a.m. Then I'll
go to the bus station and wait until 4 a.m. for the bus home. I
try to rest there but I have to be careful as there are many bad
people around the station at that time of the morning. They'd
easily rob what little I have so I can't afford to fall asleep.
I cry a lot, because of my situation. It makes me so sad and I
feel worthless begging for money on the street.
When I get home, about 5:30 a.m., I'll have some hot tea and
maybe some rice and tempeh. We don't have a bed, so I'll lie on
the floor beside Wati and thoughts come flooding into my head.
I'm thinking about food for tomorrow -- how I could possibly find
some kind of different work.
I'm a religious man, and sometimes I think maybe this is all
from Allah; I don't know. If I could come back again in another
life, I'd just want to be healthy and have a decent job.
Just before I go asleep I stare at the floor and wonder what
it's all about."