"Could you spare a pound?"

 May God forgive me cause I’m not sure what it is about the matter but all I know is that the sight and variety of London beggars always stirs up something in my guts. Maybe it's because in that weird part of your subconscious, you really don’t expect to see the same thing which you’ve been a front-row guest to almost all your life in Nigeria, but don’t get it twisted… London has its share of that part of society and I suspect almost all the countries in the world have the same.

I acknowledge it’s a bit naïve to think otherwise but it’s still a bit jarring to encounter the same thing you see at Ajah roundabout on the streets of Wembley or Hendon. Anyway at the very least, a point of difference is in some of the styles they use to beg for stuff here.. the classy ones will attempt to foist some sort of product (usually very low quality)on you to buy, such as hastily picked flowers, face tissues or other contraption…..the semi crazy ones always shuffle up to you and pitch their sob stories with a straight face and strong entitlement mentality, all the while expecting you to accede to their requests no questions asked… while the crazy ones, always shabbily dressed and obviously high on some shit just do the usual beggar shuffle and outrightly accost you to beg for money. However, there are also the genuine ones who you can tell are really down on their luck and due to the vagaries of this bitch of a life, are just forced to be in that situation. You can find them always sitting humbly in strategic corners, handwritten placards and open hats or bowls in front, hoping for some change.

Another funny thing about most of these groups is that they’re always very specific on how much they want you to give them….. “oi mate, could you spare a pound?”..

Pound ke? Do you know how much pound is changing at aboki??

Leemao.

Substance abuse is everywhere too. The number of beggars high on one substance or the other is also concerning.

We decided to stroll down to McDonalds for a quick after-Sunday-mass breakfast and this weird scary-looking dude starts following us and urging us to give him money. I notice he has a bad case of the “shakes” from whatever drug he was on, so we ignore him and move on but this guy keeps following us (Chioma, Vanessa, and myself) and becoming a nuisance so I turn round and sternly tell him off and he slinks off. About twenty minutes later, this same dude shows up at the McDonalds while we’re eating, pushes up to our table and virtually leans his drooling face above our table (with food on it)  to beg for whatever…I almost lose it at this point and tell him clearly to fuck off. Damn!... About fifteen minutes later, we see him bumming cigarettes outside the car park from someone who should clearly know better..

Same location, same day, same time period, this extremely shabbily dressed (I’m talking obese, junkie shabby. Dirty blanket, undersize exposed bra, panty string hanging out of exposed butt cheeks, coarse hair all over the place), obviously “high” lady shuffles into the place and pretends to order something from the self-service machines. After a quick look around, she comes over to our table and starts talking quick about how the machine is not accepting her order and if I could help her order some food…We are clearly irritated and easily on to her scheme but I indulge and instruct her to go to the counter and resolve whatever fake issue she has. She tries to insist but eventually realizing she’s on a one-chance road with me, she waddles off to another black man in front of another self-service machine to try out her trick.

Three days later, I’m on my way back from school. It's been a long day and an even longer meeting with my project supervisor. My regular route was closed for maintenance so I’m on a different train. My eyes are closed, the rocking motion of the train is hypnotic, and Sade is crooning softly into my earbuds when all of a sudden the interconnecting door between the carriages flings open and this weird Eastern European looking dude steps in. Now I’m seated close to the door so I’m the first person he meets. He screams out something in an unidentifiable language (Not as if I would have known where its from anyway) and falls to his knees in front of me!! He goes on asking and begging for money as he needs to eat and feed his family!!. (In reasonable English now o!)

Unfortunately for him, he’s talking to the wrong person cos I’m from Nigeria which has desensitized us to this form of emotional blackmail.

I open my eyes, respectfully pause Sade’s enchanting voice, remove my earbuds, and deliberately stare at this dude. This stare down continues for about 20 seconds and I do not even utter one word. Na you go tire. However...it’s getting really embarrassing and like his sister from Mcdonalds, he finally realizes he’s wasting his precious time and gets up to move on to someone else.

Honestly, I really hate the fact that Naija (and especially Lagos) scams and fraudsters have turned us all into this distrustful, fatalistic, quick to doubt, double-check-every-story-before-you-help people because in reality, that’s absolutely not who I am. I’m very generous and would love to give as much as I have. (as I do on occasions where I’m convinced).

Sigh. It is well.