Do You Give to Beggars?

Well then you most certainly want that money to go to good use, right? To help someone who is legitimately poor? To enable someone to buy food or pay school fees? And if you don't give to beggars, is that because you question that legitimacy? Or you think they should find another means to money? Or you think they are poor for a reason--alcoholism, laziness, too many kids, lack of education?

This Kenyan news report investigated the begging situation in Nairobi and discovered "beggar cartel" that makes 10,000 KSH (almost $125) per day from five crippled Tanzanian children.



In the section where the man and woman are answering questions in Kiswahili, they insist that the man has no other money with him, he has spent it all on iron sheets (used for roofs in places like Kibera) because he's building a house for the children in Tanzania. The woman tries to explain their living situation saying that they "live like husband and wife" and that she has no children of her own.

But they answer none of my burning questions like... How can you not feed these children? Keep them from education and care for their illnesses? How did you get them all from Tanzania? Where are their parents? And the talk of iron sheets and food can in no way explain all their expenses when they're reeling in nearly $3750 a month.

Though this situation is more grotesque than even the most skeptical givers could imagine, more predictable disrespect for the charity of others happens quite commonly.

Take Boniface, the KGSA Physics teacher, for an example. He makes no regular salary but still told me of a time he gave something small to a child begging in Nairobi. The child told some sob story about her mother dying. A block later, another beggar had the same story. Were these sisters? Or coworkers in another con-scheme?

On the Kenyan coast, "Beach boys" roam the beaches either selling crafts, camel rides, and snorkeling tours or just begging. One such boy claimed he just wanted "to improve his English" by talking to Adam and I on the beach. His chat turned into a repeated mantra: "Everything is nice in the US so you can't even imagine how people live here. If you could see my place... you couldn't even understand." The mantra transitioned into how pleased he was that a tourist he met on the beach had sponsored his school fees. He said he didn't want to 'hustle' on the beach anymore, but no one helps poor people with the money to start a business. We told him about microfinance institutions that actually do help poor people start businesses, and told him where to go for help. He nodded as if moved to act, but after a pause he went back to the mantra, only this time asking if we could sponsor his school fees. His breath smelled of alcohol.

My first time in Kenya, I had trouble rationalizing why I didn't give to beggars. Guilt led me to make a compromise: I would dedicate my donations to one beggar that I saw daily and then I wouldn't feel so guilty not giving to others. For six months, I gave any coins in my pocket to a crippled man in my neighborhood. Then one day, I saw him walking around... thats right, walking. He waved and smiled, not even trying to disguise his obvious lack of disability. I felt like a fool. So much that the next time I saw him "crippled" and begging, I didn't know what else to do but to give to him anyway.

Another time, Adam was moved to help two young rasta-looking men outside a grocery store. So we buy them each a loaf of bread, despite my stingy suggestion that one would be enough for the both of them. But when we arrived outside, the men complained about why we didn't buy them any milk to go with the bread. Then a woman and her child and an older looking man asked us if we had bought for them too. We suggested they share, but the rasta-men refused and asked if we could pay their matatu fare. I was appalled.

It is people like these, especially those in the news feature, who erode the goodwill and generosity of people everywhere. But how do we sort through this situation and still manage to help the people around us who would take that 20 shillings and feed their child? I try to find some reason in the way Kenyans pick and choose who to give to:

I had one Kenyan friend who despite being strapped for cash would always give, even take from my pocket without asking to give. But when I asked him why he still gives despite the fact that some are con-men, he said, "What does it matter? Will you miss that five shillings? It could have fallen from your pocket."

When I ask about this news report and what to do, many of my friends insist that only giving food is the way to go to avoid being conned--but you could still go wrong and give to some jerk like the ones outside the supermarket.

Then of course, there is the philosophy that you could just give to a reputable organization and let them decide who really needs help. But can you really tell what organizations are reputable? My friend Caroline who volunteered at KGSA told me of her roommates in Kenya who paid to volunteer at an orphanage that turned out to be a day-care that solicited itself as otherwise to make extra money. Clearly these roommates thought that was a reputable organization before deciding to cross an ocean, but they were also conned. And even reputable organizations can give money to truly needy people and still not really help. Many well-intentioned charitable efforts have worsened people's lives or developed dependency.

I don't think the moral of the story is to let skepticism destroy our generosity... but I'm not sure what the moral of the story is.What is the situation of charity in this world of clever thieves? When and how do we give to make sure we're helping the poor, not the con-men, of the world?