Libraries Home for the Homeless

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Pic: Nonqaba waka Msimang, Winnipeg
Public Library.
Working from home presupposes you have a roof over your head, a cellphone with active units, a computer and internet connection. There are many online articles about this privileged status.

Privileged, because there are countless people globally, who have less, like those folks that became homeless when our local library closed its doors on 16 March, due to the virus called corona.

They call the library home, and you can’t miss them in the morning as they wait patiently for the library to open, with one or two shopping bags at their feet. Some of them have green eyes, from the assault they got from wherever they hid their heads for the night.

We avoid them, practise social distancing because they smell foul. They don’t have two bathrooms at home like us, neither do they have designer soap and body lotion we take for granted.

The library is both home and work to them. They have tables and corners they have colonized. How do we know this? Because fights sometimes happen when someone’s territorial rights are violated.  Security in city libraries has increased over the years and security guards carry guns now and wear bullet proof vests.

The weather. You appreciate your little space or mansion more, when it is raining or snowing. Homeless people who live in the library also do, when they watch the snow and rain glide down blue or white floor-to-ceiling windows.

Libraries in Canada and the U.S. are architectural masterpieces. They are part of what city budgets calls infrastructure. The future is hazy for infrastructure because the library is in our pockets now.

For some people, the library has all the comforts of home, something that is hard for you to comprehend because of your centrally-heated home and well-stocked fridge.

You are mad that the virus called corona immobilized you. You are at home, playing with your digi- toys reading this post. Less unfortunate people have gone back home, abusive homes because they don’t want to sleep in the alley, where abusive is worse than home.
By: Nonqaba waka Msimang.


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