The writer is describing a

  Lets begin with a picture.

  He must not have been more than thirty years old. The oval face, devoid of those wrinkles of age, the well-turfed and black hair, and his still complete though brown set of teeth supported this assessment. All he had for clothing was a piece of cloth with some words written on it. It must have been one of those cloth-posters used but now abandon by ‘show-biz’ promoters. Across his neck was yet another cloth which bore our national colors of green and white. His feet were naked – just as they came from their creator. In one hand he had an empty tin. He talked ceaselessly and in a disordered fashion. The other free hand emphasized his spoken words and gesture. As he talked, he gazed at you as if you were responsible for his pathetic condition. He looked redeemable, though. There are many of his type in various urban centers.

  Beggars! They are in every conceivable place. At the bank, the supermarket, the church, the mosque, the post office – there you will meet them. Before you know it, the more healthy ones besiege you for alms almost to the point of assault. Surely, there is no rationale in giving alms to someone who is physically stronger than you are and who, from all indication, can and should work and fend for himself. Some others are feeble and unfortunately handicapped. Women and young girls constitute a sizeable number of these healthy beggars. Some are nursing mothers and one wonders who their husbands are. Conception by Mr Nobody, perhaps. The young girls in this category are the mother-beggars of tomorrow. But tell me; can’t the society be spared the human waste?