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Tragedy of a One-handed Elderly Hero: "I Often Share the Alms with the People that Need it More Than I Do"


By Lali Papaskiri, The Tomorrow

June 24, 2004

 

 

People of all ages beg in the streets of Tbilisi, Georgia. Many of them express open hatred towards their colleagues. However, there are exceptions as well: those who share the alms with others in more severe need than themselves. 

"Powerful people of Georgia, I am a poor, one-handed old man, any kind of donation will be greatly appreciated," these words are very familiar to the Tbilisi Subway passengers. This one-handed kneeled-down old man is begging in order to buy some food. I found it very difficult to begin a conversation with him. A wartime wound has incapacitated him for the rest of his life as he lost his right hand. At the beginning of our conversation he was very skeptical and reluctant to reply to my questions. "Why do you want to write about me?" he asked, "I am very grateful to the people that donate some change to me, but I don't want to be pitied. Don't think I was disabled from birth. The war made me like this." 

"I know you are in need yourself, but you still share your beggared money with others," I said.

"Who told you that?"

"I just saw you giving the money to the young lady holding a kid suffering from burns." 

"This kid is suffering from physical burns and I am from emotional. I have seen many more rainy than sunny days in my life," he whispered.

"Can you tell me your story in more details?," I asked.

"I used to visit Abkhazia on holidays every year. My host family in Soukhumi was very nice and we got very close. Giorgi - the son of the head of the family was the age of my son, a very nice guy. When the war started, I was visiting them. Giorgi was newly wed and his wife was expecting a baby. He went to fight from the very first day of the war: "It's my duty to defend my home," were his words. I advised him to send his family to a safe place, but he would not listen. It was the last time that I saw him. Soon I went to fight for my country as well. I fought for about a year and then I was severely wounded in my right arm. I was hospitalized and placed in Soukhumi hospital. I was bleeding badly and the doctors worked hard to save my life. 

After several days, a panic started. The hospital personnel had received information that we were losing Soukhumi. I got worried about the safety of Giorgi's family. Though the doctors strictly warned me against any kind of movement for the next week, I still escaped from the hospital. There was a panic all around Soukhumi. People were leaving their homes in hasty despair. I vaguely remember how I got to Giorgi's house. The gate was open and I heard the child weeping. The house of Giorgi's neighbor was on fire and there was a danger that the fire would soon catch Giorgi's house as well. The door was also open. The first thing I saw when I stepped over the threshold was the dead bodies of Giorgi's parents. They were killed. Giorgi's wife was half conscious and the baby was weeping in the corner. I grasped the baby and shouted at Giorgi's wife: "You should both get out of here immediately, there is a ship leaving from Soukhumi seaport shortly, hurry up!" We ran. I was holding the baby in my arms and started to bleed again. We reached Soukhumi port just on time. Though there were a lot more people than the ship could hold, the waiting people immediately gave seat to the mother with a small child. When they left, I realized how much weak I was feeling. I could not walk, so I had to crawl to the hospital but I could not reach it. I fainted in the hospital yard. 

Later I was transported to Tbilisi by a helicopter together with other wounded Georgian soldiers. When I came to senses, I found out that my right hand had been amputated. The doctor told me that the main nerve of the hand was seriously damaged and there was no other option but to amputate it. He also told me that I had a narrow escape from death since I lost more than 2 liters of blood. He advised me to learn to use my left hand as both left and right hands but I could not. I have never been left-handed. Since then I had tried many times to work but I could not". 

"Have you ever heard what happened to Giorgi?"

"Yes, after several years when the war was over, I learnt that Giorgi was found dead in his yard and that the killers of his parents were Chechens."

"How is your hand now?"

"It still hurts a lot especially when the weather changes, though it's more than ten years now. So, this is the life of an old man. May be, it looks ridiculous to beg and then share the beggared money with others, but this is how it is."









 

 

 

 

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