I'm Syariah. I'm 69 years old. I have been living in the street for so long I can't remember. Before living in the street I was helping my husband to collect some wood to sell around Java and Bali. We weren't rich, we were really poor even though my husband earned money but it wasn't enough to get going. My son had to stop his study on the 4th grade in primary school due to not having enough money for him to study. There was a lot of things to pay and they won't even let my son to study if we pay it late so he had to stop. My little brother was the only family I had and he was a truck driver. One day my little brother, my husband, and my son were going on a trip to send over the wood. Since my son didn't go to school anymore he thought he will help my husband for his work. They got into car crashed, my husband and my little brother died, but my son survived with major injury. After a few months laying in bed with not enough money for the medicine my son died. I had a family in Bali and I went to bali to meet them and ask for a little help maybe some work I can do in Bali. But I didn't find them, so I started living in the street since then. At first I thought it doesn't matter I'll be meeting them in a few days anyway so i'll just sleep in the street for one night. But then day after day I never find them so I just gave up. I met some homeless people and they told me to beg in order to survive so I just started to beg in some red light they showed me.