I despise beggars. I hate seeing them at traffic lights. I don’t give them money to entertain their pleas for change or buy whatever they might sell as a front for begging.
I specifically hate covered women who beg, hiding behind a veil, carrying a child in her arms at all times in the scorching sun and the freezing winter. I hope she dies the ugliest and most painful death imaginable 1000 times and 1000 times more for each minute she spent holding her rented or real child.
That being said, there are three individuals, two of them. Whenever I see them, tears drop, and I feel immense sadness, disgust, and hatred for every minister in our government.
1st individual is a man with a bad leg; he collects tin cans; his route is usually in Medina Street, starting from the uni hospital all the way to Sweifiyeh. Almost always after 10 pm, you would spot him walking with a large bag of tin cans, slowly marching on collecting whatever he may find. I never mustered enough courage to stop and talk to him. However, a couple of times, I spotted him from afar; I had a few empty cans of Pepsi in my car, so I put them in a bag, set what I could spare visibly in the bag and stopped a few hundred meters ahead of him and put the bag on his path and left hoping he saw them.
2nd individual is an old man, a tin collector as well, always resting near the housing bank branch on Madina Street, opposite Hardees. I always feel he is plagued with fatigue. I always shake his hand and give him whatever I can spare while asking him if he is ok and wants anything. Yesterday at around 1:30 am, I stopped and saw him; he was asleep. I reluctantly said hello without getting an answer; I was a bit scared. I went to the supermarket and bought two bottles of water, and on my way out, I deliberately kicked his shoe lightly, and he moved his leg; I was relieved! he was asleep. I put the bottle near him and underneath the bottle some money that I could spare; I drove home really sad to see such a view.
3rd individual is a woman, always sitting on the front steps of La Mirabelle in Shmesani. She usually has some religious booklets, and whenever I see her, I smile and say hello, and on my way out, I talk to her a bit, always referring to her as my mother; she has a smile that makes my usually dark days light, I spare what I could spare and walk away. I know she is there to beg indirectly, which I hate, as I mentioned in the first sentence, but always seeing her smiling melts me again.
Whenever I see these individuals, I start cursing:
1- our elected Parliament members, those at times of election spend hundreds of thousands feeding whoever they can find to secure their votes, and once elected, the God-like status and the sudden disappearance from their constituency—never fulfilled any painted promises on his election banners.
2- Our Governments and ministers, those when appointed by Royal decree, deliver the one plan that will save us all, that will lead the country into prosperity, with their first item on their agenda lowering the unemployment rate, decreasing taxes when possible, enhance the quality of living for the people, and fighting poverty wherever it may be. Almost always, one plan is accepted by our Parliament with an overwhelming approval rate. And a few months later, the one plan that should route us to heaven on earth becomes the one plan with a detour to an earthly hell.
3- Religious institutions, those who go out of their way to secure funds/donations to build a mosque or a church less than 1km away from another mosque or church, instead of helping develop more mosques or churches, build more help centres, help people stand on their feet, mini loans that might bring steady income to a family in need.
4- the donation campaigns that spring out of nowhere every once in a while splatter Amman every 10 meters with posters that contribute more to the pollution of Amman than to those who need the money. I seriously think that the $$$$ generated from the campaigns will mostly cover the costs of printing the ads and overheads with little to nothing going to the needy ones (I hope I’m wrong.)
back to point 2, our ministers, I don’t wish you misery or death for the continuous degradation of the quality of lives that you swear to protect and serve; I want that when you are out of public service while driving merrily in our wide and usually bump-less empty streets, that one of the current elected ministers convoys suddenly swerve in front of you with a tailing 4×4 car with a man out of the window cursing and shouting while waving the red stop sign at you to slow or move out of the way all the while you shiver and pray to your god that you don’t crash to the car next to you or the middle separator while seeing snapshots of your life in front of you. I sincerely hope that you live this moment every single time you drive.
How fair, man and god?
How fair is it that our government drives 4x4s with enough gas to fill them, equivalent to a month’s food for a low-income family?
How fair is it that every man in the political circle gets richer and richer while we see more people hungry, stealing, and begging on the streets?
How fair is it that a disabled man walks miles and miles every night trying to salvage items from the streets to provide for his family while treatment for a wealthy, indited businessman/inmate serving his time in a 5* cell with, I guess, pay TV? He also had 24-hour room service and later left his 5* cell in a 5* prison and left the country to be treated abroad for, I guess, the sniffles he got from the AC in his cell.
How fair, man and god?
Doomish:
Brave, Courageous and bold.
Long live his fame,
and long live his glory.
Long may his worthless posts be told.
