“I don’t care about poverty.” That was my parting shot when, last year, I addressed a discussion about poverty held in parliament. The organiser of this annual event was Nationalist MP Ivan Bartolo.
Though this event was organised as part of the PN’s commitment to social justice, the audience in the chamber consisted of government ministers, MPs, MEPs and around two dozen persons working in the sector.
They were surprised, not to say shocked, by my opening statement. But my second sentence clarified my seemingly cynical position.
“I care about the poor,” I said, continuing: “Poverty is a concept which one can treat theoretically and, perhaps, aloofly. The poor, on the other hand, are humans, flesh and blood humans like you and me, not a theory. That is why, in 2017, Pope Francis set up the World Day of the Poor and not the World Day of Poverty.”
That clarification at least did away with the first impression that I was a cold-blooded heartless priest.
The audience in the chamber was the target of my second salvo. I added:
“The greatest experts about poverty are not economists or those working in the sector. The greatest experts about poverty are the poor. Next time I think we should be silent and humbly listen to the poor.”
I gladly note that, this year, Bartolo heeded my suggestion. Today, when the topic will be discussed in parliament, there will be several people who suffer from different types of poverty, discrimination and social injustice.
Turning away one’s face from the poor means turning away one’s face from God
In politics, there is a lot of talking down to people about these subjects. It is essential that, in such debates, the people who are living through these heart-rending situations become the protagonists.
Research and academic studies are important as they lessen the risk that policy decisions are taken on anecdotal evidence or political convenience. But the living experience of those who suffer is similarly important and essential. The street wisdom of our ancestors made them conclude “staqsi lill-imġarrab” (ask the person who is living the problem).
Research helps us all to understand that poverty exists also in Malta and that it is on the increase.
Living experiences tells us what it means to be poor.
According to the government agency NSO, there were 103,330 persons at the risk of poverty or social exclusion in 2021 (87,693 in 2017).
The number of persons severely and materially deprived increased from 19,600 in 2017 to 27,300 in 2021.
There are soup kitchens in Valletta, Fleur de Lys, Paceville, Paola and also in Balzan.
In 2023, the Franciscans distributed 98,400 lunches and 22,100 packed suppers to those who visited their soup kitchen in Valletta – 86 per cent of these persons were Maltese.
Besides, many parishes regularly distribute food hampers to needy families.
Research shows that the gap between the highest earners and the lowest ones is widening.
The International Monetary Fund has just published a report which, after noting the impressive growth of our economy, added that “income inequality and poverty risks appear to be on the rise, with the elderly population showing signs of being increasingly at risk”.
One hopes that today’s discussion in parliament will raise awareness and push for a change in Malta’s economic model, which is making the life of the poor, and not just the materially poor, more problematic.
Helping the poor is not a matter of charity but a fundamental issue of justice.
Turning away one’s face from the poor means turning away one’s face from God.