Just another drunk?

Winters that are severely cold means that the homeless are largely unseen as they hide out in abandoned buildings.

Official stats claim there are only around 11,000 homeless people in Russia. This figure would place them among countries with the fewest homeless people in the world, like Japan or Finland - so, it is widely believed that this figure in inaccurate. Here's why...

Most homeless are uncounted. Anyone sleeping on a friend’s couch, staying in a shelter, or hiding in a stairwell is not seen as being officially 'homeless'. Without identity documents (most homeless people have lost these) a person would also not be counted.

Non-profits estimate that a more realistic figure is between two and five million - but because homelessness is so overlooked, no one can say with any certainty.

Those we partner with, who do interact with the homeless, are seeing a steady rise, and it is well documented that during and after times of war (regardless of location), homelessness - along with addiction, domestic violence, and other social crises - increases significantly.

In Russia, it is not uncommon to encounter people who have effectively disappeared from society. Some are missing limbs, others suffer untreated illnesses, and many live with bodies visibly deteriorating. Passers-by may drop a few coins, but such gestures only go so far.

Behind every outstretched palm is a person with a story.

Meet Vasily...

To most, Vasily was just another drunk on a street corner - dirty, irritable, muttering bitter complaints: “Why does everyone else have everything, but I don’t?” People turned away, assuming he had chosen this life.

Vasily once shared a small home and a quiet life with the woman he loved. They both worked, kept to themselves, and built a modest but peaceful life together. Tragedy struck when she slipped from a bridge one evening and drowned - she could not swim. In a single night, Vasily lost the only person he had, and with her, his will to keep going. Overwhelmed by grief and with no family or friends to support him, he turned to alcohol.

What began as comfort became a curse that cost him his job, his stability, and eventually, his home.

Before this, Vasily was a skilled carpenter who took pride in his work. But on the street, no one saw a talented man, the years of hard work or the loneliness behind the drinking - only a broken, miserable person.

Life is changing!

Vasily was eventually found by staff from the Men’s Crisis Centre who offered him refuge. He arrived there with nothing but the clothes he was wearing. In those first days, he admitted that he no longer knew how to talk to people - nor how to take care of himself.

Step by step, the team is helping him restore his identity papers and apply for a pension, which will provide a small but vital foundation for independence. For the first time in years, Vasily is beginning to see light at the end of the tunnel.

He carries physical scars from life on the streets. One night, while asleep, his clothes caught fire. In the panic, bystanders poured what they thought was water over him — but it was cooking oil, worsening the burns on his legs. Now, at the Centre, he is finally receiving proper treatment, and his health is slowly improving. Now he has support, he is living soberly and discovering contentment.

By giving Vasily a place to call home - a warm bed, food, medical care, and help restoring his documents - the Centre is offering him the chance to regain his dignity. His love for carpentry is returning too. He now gives advice to younger residents about working with wood, is learning to smile again and communicating with others without fear.

Vasily’s story is not unique. Across Russia, millions like him live on the margins, unseen and unheard. Our crisis centre projects have supported people like him a thousand times over and they are making a real difference.

If you'd like to help change a life like Vasily’s, please pray for both our Men’s and Women’s Crisis Centres. Pray for the people who will need this help in the future, for the provision and funding needed to keep the centres running, and for the dedicated people who pour their hearts and strength into this work every day.

We contribute *£43 for every person, every month, at both crisis centres. This is a basic cost. The actual cost increases when taking into account extras like healthcare, reinstating documents, travel to reunite mothers with children, physical items like clothes and shoes etc.

If you would like to regularly support just one person, we'd love to hear from you.

Tel: 0115 983 1100