Show a bit of mercy in these merciless days
My favourite poem is by DH Lawrence. It reads, “I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will fall frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.”
Just one problem ... Monday February 15 was one of those days which give Gqeberha, née Port Elizabeth, its nickname of the Windy City, and it was hot on top of that.
Before sitting down to smoke a cigarette outside, I saw a lump of straw, bits of thread and loose feathers but didn’t think anything of it.
As I puffed on my cancer stick, a small bird descended in a rush and there was lot of chirping.
That’s when I noticed three featherless and blind chicks lying prostrate in the dirt next to what I finally realised was a nest which had been blown down from the eaves above.
The daddy bird went to one chick, looked at it briefly, then hopped to the other two and proceeded to feed them frantically. Mommy bird also came and did the same thing, then both took off again.
Through eyes and brain still foggy from just having woken up, I saw that one chick was dead and the other two were stressed from exposure to the relentless wind and sun.
After a second’s largely unformed thought, I went to the living chicks and one by one put them in the nest on the ground because moving them to the wreck under the eaves was out of the question due to its destruction and my lack of a ladder.
As I sat down again, I wondered whether I had done the right thing. Not being a naturalist, photographer or journalist, I reckoned that yes, as a human being who has done his fair share of inhumane things over the years, I did the best and most humane I could under the circumstances because whether they lived or died, at least the chicks were snuggling in what was left of their home.
Daddy bird came back. He looked at me and chirped angrily something like “Where are my kids, human?” I went to the nest twice and pointed to its entry, telling him, “Your chicks are in there, birdie ...”
He looked around, then flew up and down twice, chirping constantly and looking at me, pleading to somehow put his nest back where it was because neither he nor his mate were big enough to lift it.
I kept saying it was impossible, but in their desperate tiny minds I was the miracle worker who had to make right the disaster which had befallen them.
I don’t know what happened to the chicks.
The dead one was gone later that day and the grounded nest looked like it had been rummaged through by some sort of predator.
After that, mommy and daddy bird spent at least two days watching and chirping at me angrily, then I never saw them again.
Nevertheless, this got me thinking about what had happened since the lockdown started last March, how the number of homeless people is increasing and the sight of vehicles laden with furniture going God knows where becoming more frequent, how almost nothing is said or written about this in the media even though I know for a fact there are people living under the bridge on William Moffett and in the Baakens Valley below the bottom of Fourth Avenue in Newton Park.
I remembered, hopefully correctly, a few lines of dialogue between Robin Locksley and Duncan in the movie Robin Hood Prince of Thieves.
“Robin: What day is it? Duncan: Sunday, I think. Robin: Do they still give mercy to the poor after mass? Duncan: Yes, they do. These days the need for mercy is greater than ever.”
I showed those helpless chicks some mercy and helped a few of the homeless men and women I encountered in whatever small way possible, given my extremely dire circumstances.
Times are hard. Sadly, I estimate they’re about to get worse. There is lack of government care and concern about the increasing number of people whose lives were destroyed by the lockdown, together with silence on a large scale about this in the media except the Daily Maverick.
I was also struck by how in a city which has churches for Africa, their doors only open on a Sunday, while people who are clearly in dire need of some succour and mercy roam the streets every day.
We need to look at this. We need to investigate, photograph, film and write about it.
We need to tell the Mount Road cops that being homeless is not a crime and arresting, threatening to arrest or charging people for violating curfew because they’re homeless is inhumane and fruitless as well as illegal because of the legal principle of foreseeability and the government’s inability or unwillingness to provide shelter to those it rendered homeless through the economic effects of the lockdown.
We need to draw attention to what’s happening in front of us and in the bushes just down the road from a church that is closed during the week.
We need to help those in need before their desperation overflows SA’s cup of misery and nightmares begin.