Clients of the Marie Atkins Night Shelter for the care of street people dig into a hearty breakfast of pink salmon, beans and rice and Milo. Andrea Downer, Features Writer
They could be described as a curious bunch, men and women of different ages all drawn together by similar circumstances - misfortune.
Approximately one hundred of them, displaced by disasters such as hurricanes and fires. Some of them bearing the bewildered look of those unfamiliar with their surroundings and the socially taboo insignia - deportees, trying desperately to fit in.
Years in penal institution
Others have spent years in Jamaica's penal institutions, their longed for freedom tainted by the fact that they have nowhere to live and no means of supporting themselves. And there are still those who have simply fallen on hard times.
Many of them have lived at the Marie Atkins Night Shelter at Hanover Street in downtown Kingston for several years; their welfare assistance has been funded by state and private donations. The shelter's feeding and hygiene programme started on November 16, 1993. The shelter is equipped with bathing facilities and clients are fed breakfast each day and sometimes lunch and dinner.
Awaiting breakfast
When The Gleaner visited, it was just past nine o'clock on a Thursday morning. As the morning sun hinted at its fierce promise for the day, the 'clients' at the Marie Atkins Homeless Shelter eagerly awaited their breakfast, a few of them impatiently.
"Nine o'clock gone long time, a what dem a wait for fi gi wi di likkle food?" a gaunt woman wearing a bolt blue floral dress that billowed on her wiry frame inquired as she walked into the area where the clients are fed. No one else said anything, most of them waiting patiently for their first meal of the day.
Forty-four-year-old Joseph Wright has lived at the shelter for six years. He said the shelter became his home after he was released from prison after serving 11 years for manslaughter. While he is grateful for the services provided by the shelter, he is angry that more can't be done for the persons who have very little or no means to provide for themselves.
"We the residents of 65 Hanover Street want to show Jamaica and the rest of the world that we are rehabilitated (and are fit) to go back into civil society," he rasped, his towering frame and booming voice tagging him as a leader among his more docile looking shelter mates.
According to Joseph, there were many skilled and talented persons who frequent the shelter, who, if given the chance, could earn for themselves - instead of depending on charity and handouts.
"You have a lot of skilled brethren here, both male and female," he rasped.
"You have sign artists, technicians, electricians, mechanics, drivers, there are people with every skill here," he claimed, as the business of sharing and consuming breakfast got underway in earnest.
However, head of the home and Inspector of the Poor, Lena Latibeaudiere said it is not very easy for the clients of the home to find jobs. Joseph held a job as a security guard for several years after leaving prison, but is now unemployed after losing his job for reasons he refuses to be specific about.
See Part II tomorrow.
andrea.downer@gleanerjm.com
Joseph Wright, a client of Marie Atkins Night Shelter, belts out one of his original compositions. He has ambitions to become Jamaica's next gospel singing sensation. - photos by Andrea Downer