DID I overreact when I barked at a beggar carrying a baby after midnight yesterday?
I mean, the woman squeezed her arm in between the grills of the gate at my grandmother’s house on Urgello St., and tried to grab my attention.
I, of course, was chilling out after work with my headphones on, listening to Sergio circa ‘66, when I caught something at the corner of my eye. I looked up, and there she was.
She turned so I would have a better view of the baby clinging to her neck.
I told her I didn’t have any change, but she responded by thrusting her hand out even farther. She then looked down at the child and then straight at me.
That’s when I lost it.
I reminded her about the Anti-Mendicancy Ordinance, or Cebu City Ordinance 1631, which “prohibits and penalizes the giving to and soliciting by mendicants of cash or material goods in public places, buildings and offices, as well as in any business or commercial establishment.”
She hesitated, but when I told her I would call the DSWD (Department of Social Welfare and Development), she left in a hurry.
Was I being too harsh? It’s just that I’m allergic to beggars who use children as accessories.
Because that’s what they are, you know, the infants and children in tow of able-bodied mendicants. Beggars use them for emotional blackmail.
I shouldn’t generalize, but I can usually distinguish between those who deserve help and those who don’t. Or at least I think I can. The rum does have a way of muddling the senses... not that it has ever muddled mine.
Anyway, I have to admit I have a soft spot for one particular beggar. Although she’s more of a neighborhood lush. But she does ask me for the occasional peso or two or for a cigarette (when I still smoked) and I’ve always obliged.
When I first met her, I was intrigued. First of all, she wasn’t carrying an infant or was accompanied by scrawny children. The woman also didn’t give me the usual “I’m-really-hungry” spiel or the abridged version of her melodramatic life. But she was carrying a half-finished bottle of Vino Kulafu.
When she reached our gate, she grabbed on to the grill with one hand and with the other raised the bottle to me in greeting.
“Do I have a light?” she asked. I stood up and lit her cigarette with my lighter. “Could I spare a P1?” she asked. I gave her P5.
After all, who am I to refuse a kindred spirit?
u2022••
I heard they were filling the potholes in front of my grandmother’s house on Urgello St. yesterday afternoon.
I’d like to thank the Cebu City Government or Sambag 1 for its prompt action on the matter.