Rebecca Williams 

As I sit on the bus 25 to Ilford, Essex my mind triggers back to the six months of my life that, deemed homeless by Redbridge council, I lived in a B&B where my daily routine involved going to the toilet trying to frantically avoid the smeared faeces on the walls and dodging the piss puddles on the floor. Mind you, it was great training for bladder control! Attempting to cook in the far from hygienic kitchen was as depressing as being surrounded by crackheads, drug dealers, alcoholics and prostitutes. Don’t even get me started about trying to bathe myself in the greasy, pubic hair ridden bathrooms! I can only laugh at it now that I have the power of hindsight. I mean, if I didn’t laugh, I’d cry, and boy did I have my fare share of tears.I would quite defensively educate any ignoramouses out there that think that being homeless is “your fault!” No one chooses to be homeless. Some life situations force individuals into a path they would otherwise do anything to avoid. For instance, I desperately needed to get out of the psychological, mental and physical trauma my former guardian had inflicted on me for eight years. For instance being called “Bastard child!” by her on numerous occasions for no reason was by far out of order. Everyone has their boiling point and that was mine. I had nowhere and one else to go to (that I really trusted). My only option was to go to the council’s Homeless Prevention Unit with a small suitcase full of belongings I had managed to pack. What kept me going for those six months? Education. School had always been my escapism- especially after my adoptive mum died when I was 8. I’d find myself free amongst literature of all kinds. This was my world where no one could hurt me or control me. I excelled in school and despite being “homeless” from 17 years old, living on my own and surviving on peanuts, I still conjured up the determination to complete my A-Levels and achieved top grades.

One has to really go through hell and back in order to truly understand pain. Living off £5 for two weeks was more than a challenge but it taught me so much about materialism and tainted happiness. A philosopher once wrote: “If who I am is what I have, and I have nothing, then who am I?” So simple, yet so powerful and deep. When I was homeless, I had nothing, but it didn’t mean I was nothing. I knew who I was, where I came from and definitely where I wanted to go.

I’m at university now studying…wait for it…journalism and live in a lovely house – independent from government help. I’ve got a lot to say about a lot of issues and it’s personal experience that has really opened up my eyes to a lot of things. I pray for those still in the struggle…you’ll make it, trust me- just believe in the power you hold within you to make a change in your life for the better.

“Last stop!” the bus driver shouts. As I jump startled, I smile to myself. I’ve got a long way to go yet.