Tony's stash of textual information

For my mother, and her long-term supporter, who happens to be my father.

I first started volunteering with Homeless Hearts of Singapore (HHOS, for short), in late 2022. I had read an article in Channel NewsAsia, about this organisation. I looked up their website, and filled in a registration form, and then received a call from Derek shortly.

I'm a barista by profession – in my job, I am expected not only to brew coffee for customers, but also provide some kind of listening ear. The conversational skills that I learnt, on the job, would help to prepare me to meet our homeless friends.

Over the past two years, I have been to various outreaches – in the areas of Chinatown, Paya Lebar, Yishun, Jurong East, Aljunied, Changi Airport... the list goes on. Who are the volunteers that I meet?

There are undergraduates and retirees. Some are visitors from overseas, who depart from Singapore after a time. Everyone has a different reason for showing up at an outreach.

Walking alongside them on the streets of Singapore at night, I realise: I am spending time with complete strangers. Perhaps city life has alienated us from each other so much that a volunteering activity becomes a rare opportunity to embark on a shared adventure with someone who exists outside of our usual social circles.

And, of course, there are our homeless friends. (Derek told me, very early on: “this is how we refer to them: not homeless people, but our homeless friends”). Not a few are divorcees, whose shared house had gone to their ex-wives. There are middle-aged men, but also young men too. They are mostly male – though I have met a handful of female homeless friends. Again, among the females, there is a mix of ages: some are middle-aged, others are young (my guess would be twenty-something).

I still remember one Uncle who sleeps under a fly-over. (I shall not reveal his location for privacy reasons). He said he struggles to find enough money to afford one plate of cai fan (loosely translated as economical rice), every day. Three Singaporean dollars, for one meal a day – that is a stretch for his budget. My mind was flooded with questions when I first met him: Where does he go to, when he has to use a toilet? Isn't he scared of some thief in the night, when he sleeps in such a obscure area – or cockroaches or stray dogs, for that matter? His words still haunt me: “I want a house. When can I get a house?”

Then there is another Uncle who had spent most of his life-time sailing all over the world. His job had been to repair engines on boats. He had visited Thailand, Europe, and probably more countries than I would ever see in my life-time. When asked why he didn't remain overseas – he sighed and struggled to form the words – we, a rag-tag team of volunteers, didn't press the matter further. Again, his words echo through time and space: “I want a house. I can't stand the way that the passers-by look at me.”

Clearly, this is not just my story alone. “Homelessness is a complex, interlocking issue,” a keynote speaker said at a conference recently (titled: Homelessness Learning Forum, held in a compound known as Kampong Siglap. It had been the 10th day of October, World Homelessness Day). “Homelessness is not solved by providing houses. Homeless people who have received a house – they report that their house is a soul-less place.”

I wonder to myself: what can really warm someone's heart? Is it money, material possessions, fine clothes, or a fancy job title? I am reminded of F. Scott Fitzgerald – renowned author of the semi-autobiographical novel, “The Great Gatsby” – who seemed disappointed and weary, even when he was surrounded by all of those.

I think of Derek, our volunteer leader, who always says: “our homeless friends are not a problem to be solved. They are people to be loved.”

Yes, no matter the time and place, all human beings, everywhere, desire to feel loved and valued. They respond positively when others treat them with dignity – and hit back when their dignity is violated.

Dignity – something money may not necessarily buy, these days. Can we, as a society, give dignity to one another, without money being involved? A big question.

What are the values of a society that we all want to live in? Can we be more patient, kind, and compassionate?

Some young people have already given up. “You'll never find compassion in Singapore,” one young man said to me recently, with no small hint of bitterness.

I look forward, after ten years of HHOS, to a collective challenge in the future: to give dignity to our homeless friends. To spend time together – no agenda, only love and presence-of-mind. Can we do it, in such a outwardly messed-up place like Singapore, where the weather is so humid, construction noise never stops, and commuters poke into each others' bodies on the MRT?

An older, wiser female has told me: “let us not choose the tasks that are equal to our powers; let us gain the power that is equal to the tasks.”

And what is this power? Is it my conversational skills? Or is it Derek's always-online routine, where he responds personally in a humongous number of WhatsApp chat-groups? Or is it Mr. T.S.'s car, which he uses to ferry volunteers to and fro, during outreaches?

Whatever it is, I know I cannot do it alone. None of us can. We are interdependent – you have something I don't, and I have something you don't. Can we pool our resources together, and work together for a more live-able future? I don't know with 100% certainty, but I have hope. Join me in this hope, where you are – on the other side of these ubiquitous electronic screens – or wherever you are reading this from.

To me, hope is not a nice-to-have. It is a necessity. It is a necessary hope for our friends' baby children – as hurricanes and earthquakes rock and crush our planet.

Allow me a quote from the Holy Bible: “These three remain: faith, hope and love. And the greatest of these is love.”

Let us challenge ourselves to love one another – homeless or not – in a world that is so lacking in love. I have faith in our shared humanity.

Thank you.