It looks like I am too coward to become a philanthropist.
About a year ago I met this boy in a house run by a poor charity foundation. As any other boys at the house, he affords his life by moving from one bus to another, singing his favorite singles with a dilapidated guitar with a hope that the passengers will like his songs or at least pity him that they don't mind giving him some small change.
Different from other boys who welcomed me rather flatly, this boy smiled a lot and asked my questions (I was assigned to write story on street children and their shelter houses) very eagerly. He also treated me very politely; in general I can say that the boy, as a source person, was very helpful and cooperative.
I earlier thought he was 12 years old or, if older, couldn't be more than 14. But, you know what? He said he was 18.
I was of course surprised, and the fact that he was not that young almost reduced my sympathy on him. But the way he told the story of his life, of how he left his parents as they divorced and then married another man and woman, of how he fled from a remote small town in Sumatra island and traveled hundreds of miles away alone --while he was still as little as eight-- to get to Jakarta, where he had no family nor acquaintance; to only end up on street and having to sing to earn money before the charity foundation found him and give him shelter and feed him... that was enough to amaze me and make me sympathize him.
I thought it must have been very terrible life he had had with his parents that he chose to live hard life on the cruel Jakarta streets (It's very terrifying, you know, what you can find on newspapers or TVs about the cruelty of the streets; starting from violence, sodomy with street children as the victims, to murders with mutilation). And worse, with poor formal education background (he was only an elementary school graduate), I think, unless there's a miracle, he has no future. He couldn't stay at the shelter house forever. In fact he had to soon leave because the house only accommodate those under the age of 19; while, on the other hand, he had yet to have enough skills nor certificates he would need to get a proper job.
It was those concerns, along with my sympathy, that made me think to not only make story of him and his friends' life, but also about being his guardian. I thought about financing his education until he could earn the equivalent high school diploma and helping him and his friends upgrade themselves by donating some books (they told me they liked reading but having not many books to read). With so, I hoped I could help open his way to better life in the future.
However, after inquiring a person from the foundation about the boy, I found out that he was not as innocent nor as sweet as I thought. In fact, he lied to me about his eagerness to go to school, as the person from the foundation told me how the boy, unlike his excited fellows, had abandoned a financial support to go to school as he was too lazy to attend classes. The person said the boy was addicted to a drug and recklessly spent his money to play video games in a play station rental or satisfied his addiction. He said the boy had no will to change nor willingness to leave his bad old habits.
That should be enough to discourage me from helping the boy, but that did not. I still thought about giving him second chance and helped his education, but I would only do it through the foundation because I didn't trust him quite well to let him hold the money. It was his fleeing from the shelter house that has discouraged me. Now that he left the house, how would I know he would use my money wisely, as I spend it for, if I ever give him some? How would I know he won't wrongly make use of my good intention to help him?
He has my number; he has tried to call me maybe hundreds time, but I only answered a few; the last one maybe five months ago.
During the phone calls, he said nothing but telling me about his recent condition; where he lived and what he did. However,his aggressiveness, how he tried to call me hundreds of times to my cellphone and home number, and even visited my office to try to meet me (I wasn't at office, thank God!), has really frightened me. What does he want? If he really needs me, he should send me SMS if I don't answer the phone call. But, he never did that; and I don't dare to ask why he keeps on calling. The aggressiveness makes me suspect him of planning bad things, of trying to deceive me for bad purposes, especially after more and more unknown numbers have since then (since I neglected his phone calls) tried to call me at midnight and whenever I answered, I did it only to find that the callers were some stupid boys trying to make some stupid talks with me (now I never answer unknown numbers again at midnight).
Even if I try not to think bad of the boy, that he is not planning bad things and only wants someone to talk to or needs some help, I also don't dare to answer the phone. With no body supervising him, I don't dare to give him any help, as I know nothing about street life. I only know how cruel it can be, and it's of a thing I've never been and will never wanna be in. I knew nothing of him but what he has told me, how would I know he did not lie to me as he had done before? No one can confirm that for me now.
I do still feel pity for him, but I don't know what I can do to help him without having to put myself in danger of a possible crime.
And if what happens is he indeed doesn't have any sort of bad intention, I'm also afraid he has too high expectation on me, that I can help him financially some times or help him find better job than singing on the street all the times.
The problem is, I'm not that affluent to help him leave his poor life. I want to help his education while he was still under the foundation's supervision because I'm sure it will receive funds from other people that can cover his lack of funding from me. And, I'm still very new in this job world (I was a fresh university graduate last year) that I have no capacity to help him find a job. Even if I know someone who can give him a job, I can't bear the responsibility of ensuring he would do his job well because I don't know him that well either.
Gosh, now I've learnt that I am indeed too coward to be a philanthropist. And I've started to really appreciate those who have the bravery to go straightly into the field to do that.
