Being Human

On Saturday, I did my first shop on this budget. A trip to Hopley's Farm Shop got me 3 bags of fruit and veg for £7.76 & a fair deal of fun and laughter with Malin, who joked about ruining my reputation on Facebook by pretending I'd been buying all sorts of stuff. The serious side was the goodwill and support for what I'm doing, even though I'll be spending less money in her shop. Next stop was the Co-op for some stock items which were, of course, more expensive by virtue of being processed, so 1 bag was £16.61; £9 left for the rest of the week, then. I had done a hurried count of the pet food at home and been relieved to discover I had exactly enough left from my bulk buy earlier in the year to last me until the end of Easter. Now I stood in front of  the pet food shelves looking for something to put in the food bank as a forfeit for this fact.

It pulled at my heart strings: how must it feel to be in a position of not being able to feed your animal family members and know they won't understand why things have changed, and that you can't explain it to them? I shudder as my imagination leads me down the avenue of having to give up an animal family member through poverty... Loss and the betrayal of unconditional love. I pick up a multipack of pet food for the food bank and am thankful it's not a choice I have to make. And I appreciate the precious gift of the animals in my life that little but more.

How must parents feel when they have to tell their children that their favourite breakfast cereal is now too expensive or that the snacks they have always had to take to school have to stop? I've already found myself having those conversations with people that start with something along the lines of, "You should see what X who's on benefits puts in her shopping trolley!" and I ask why we think we have the right to make judgments about how the poor spend their little money but not about how the rich spend their vast amounts? Or indeed, how the rich became rich.

The media is interested in what I'm doing, that's refreshing. I'm happy to contribute, to be photographed and interviewed but I also notice myself turning off the news on my tv and radio more since I began this Lent challenge; I am making choices about what I want to be drawn into thinking about, what I want fed into my brain. Not only do I not want to be coerced into accepting the media agenda, I am conscious of how little difference it makes if I am not actively listening and watching: to my life or anyone else's. Perhaps too many of their stories are there for effect and not content.

Perhaps at this stage, I need to say that I'm a vegetarian. If I weren't I'd probably need to become one on this budget because the price of meat and fish would be prohibitive. I'm endeavouring to keep my principles in tact, too: fair trade, no animal testing and environmental responsibility sometimes cost a bit more, though, and I'm eyeing the washing up liquid bottle and thinking about the cost of replacing it when it runs out.

To be human and live with dignity is defined by the Geneva Convention not only as being about the right to shelter, food, warmth and safety: it's about more than education and healthcare, too. There's that precious inclusion of aspiration. If we have nothing to aspire to we wither inside. Crushed dreams turn bitter, dashed hopes become despair. In my time working for Christian Aid, I witnessed the amazing determination of people fighting to make a difference; some of the poorest people in our world. I saw the dignity and hope of the poor and I learnt that it is not charity that provides the opportunity for aspiration; only justice can do this.


Eva