Homeless people ‘an easy target’
As new figures reveal the growth of attacks on homeless people, those living on the streets of Cardiff tell The Observer’s Amy Walker of their plight.
SCOTT Kirkbright, one of many people sleeping rough on the streets of Cardiff this winter, was not surprised when a fellow homeless man’s tent was set alight while he was inside it. The victim, who told reporters he had been asleep with his partner and his dog at the time of the incident, escaped with minor burns to his hand after his dog alerted him to the fire. South Wales Police, who originally treated the case as criminal damage, are now treating it as arson.
But what would, to most people, be a shocking assault on one of the most vulnerable in society was to Kirkbright far from out of the ordinary.
‘‘I’ve had my tent destroyed twice and there’s always groups of drunk lads trying to make me the butt of some nasty joke,’’ said the 42yearold, whose own tent in Queen St is pitched just yards away.
‘‘A lot of people are looking for someone to take their rage out on and homeless people are an easy target. It definitely makes you more wary, but I’ve seen people dragged out of their tents by their feet before.’’
As the number of homeless people grows, so, too, do violent attacks against them. Research by the charity Crisis suggested 12,300 people were sleeping rough on the streets of Britain and the number had risen by 98% since 2010. An investigation by Channel 4 found that attacks on homeless people in the UK had tripled in five years. In London, 2784 violent crimes against homeless people were recorded in 2017 — an increase of 9.7%. In South Yorkshire, attacks were up by a third since 2016.
Among the volunteers at St German’s Church in Adamsdown on the outskirts of Cardiff those statistics were nothing new. Abuse of the homeless in the Welsh city is commonplace. As they prepared to open their winter night shelter this month, the Rev Phelim O’Hare said that last year ‘‘we had one person who was using squeezable eye cleaner to protect himself from anyone who tried to hassle him on the street’’.
‘‘It doesn’t do much harm, but it gave him enough time to run away,’’ O’Hare said.
‘‘The people who come to us — their bark is much worse than their bite — they’re very vulnerable.’’
The service, based in the church’s hall, began last year in response to the growing number of rough sleepers in Cardiff. It runs until the end of March.
Peter Lovitt, a church warden who volunteers at the shelter along with his wife, Hilary, said: ‘‘The people we look after have said they are abused, get shouted at, get beer chucked at them and are urinated on. It’s normally drunk people.’’
General abuse like this is something with which Levi Bradley is familiar. She sleeps in alleyways and doorways around the city centre. For women, the stakes are much higher.
‘‘A few weeks ago I had to run away from a man who tried to rape me while I was out here,’’ she said.
The 42yearold has been homeless for two months since losing a place at a hostel where she had stayed for nearly a year.
‘‘Before that, I was living in tents which were burned down a couple of times by other homeless people until I caught pneumonia and was put in a hostel,’’ she said.
Although she now spends most of her time with her friend Annie, who is also homeless, to try to protect herself from abuse, she is averse to asking for help from authorities.
‘‘It’s like knocking your head against a wall. All the council do is put you on floor space which can be more dangerous than being out here. In shelters, once some weird guy becomes aware of you and sets his eyes on you — you’re done for when you’re not in a safe environment.’’
Bradley said she was regularly sexually harassed by nonhomeless members of the public, too.
Among the tales of violence, there are also glimmers of light. Cruelty can be eclipsed by the kindness of strangers. In the space of 10 minutes, as he sits in the city centre, Kirkbright is handed money by children on a school trip and Christmas shoppers, as well as an emergency kit, including toiletries and snacks, by a passerby.
Bradley too, believes her survival so far is down to the generosity of others.
‘‘For every nine **** holes, there’s always one genuinely nice member of the public — they’re the ones who give us a couple of quid so we can eat.’’ — Guardian News and Media
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All the council do is put you on floor space
which can be more dangerous than being
out here