Living on the Fringe of Society: My Extreme Poverty

Empty wallet- Image Source - Pixabay 

Each passing day feels like a punishment. I watch helplessly as poverty slowly gobbles up the last remnants of my once-hopeful spirit. What makes it worse? I live under the specter of knowing it's only going to get grimmer by 2026.

I find it hard to put into words the feeling of extreme poverty that overwhelms me, it's like being under water; muffled and suffocated, as the rest of the world looks different and brighter from down below. People from all walks of life fail to comprehend how consuming this dark pit is. There's an unbearable burden and despair that does not get any easier. The frail thread that I've been clinging on to, that sustains me currently, is a welfare check. Unfortunately, the foreboding clock is ticking and by 2026, my son will be 18, which means the aid will cease forever. A wave of helplessness and fear surges over me as I think about how my little boy, then a young man, will witness this struggle and fight this same desperate fight, as I wade deeper into the abyss of poverty. People often say 'go out and find a job'. Well, it’s easier said than done. Every employer sees me as a liability, rather than an asset. The scarcity of work, combined with my limited skills and past mistakes, means finding employment is virtually impossible. While the world cheers on stories of survival, it seems oblivious to those that make the dirtiest recesses of society. Bullies, sadistic tormentors, abusers – those who reek of heinous atrocities – find me an easy target. They know my pleas for help are largely ignored, and all of my complaints are dismissed. I'm treated as a non-entity, burdened not just by poverty but also these leeches, that thrive off of my powerlessness. The dire nature of my situation leaves me questioning, what will life look like in 2026? As terrifying as the reality is, it's one I have to brace for. I picture my son and me unemployed, the deprivation harsher and far-reaching. I'll count every cent to figure out how to stretch it the farthest and try my best to fend off the hunger. Extreme poverty isn’t just the lack of money. It's a vicious cycle of poverty, homelessness, ill health, social discrimination, domestic violence, and degradation, but, I am resilient, even when battered and beaten by circumstances, the flame of my will is not so easily extinguished. For my son, I choose to persist, fight, and continue swimming in this sea of hopelessness. Perhaps I cannot afford dreams of prosperity or grandeur, but a decent meal for my child, warm clothes to shield him from winter, and an escape from the hellish reality I exist in - I do harbor these tiny hopes, in the secluded corners of my heart. By writing this, I hope to be a voice for the faceless in the crowd of extreme poverty. I am not just a statistic in a report. I am a human being, striving to survive, caught in the snares of systemic inequality, discrimination, and lack of resources. My experiences need to be seen, heard, and responded to with dignity, empathy, and immediate action.

Perhaps someday, I will have more stories of survival, rising above adversity, and turning lives around, until then I continue to exist and hope against all hope.