Angie Allgood is a social worker from London’s East End whose vocation has been shaped by a deep faith and extended family living. She relates here vital lessons about belonging and connection learned through her friendship with homeless people. This is a testimony about how the Spirit shapes us and a reminder of the infinite value of every human life.
April 2025
“If I disappear would anyone care?” This is written, under the flyover of a busy junction in my home place of East Ham in Newham. It’s a deep question. It weighs heavy on me. It is graffitied on the place where people without a home will sleep at night.
I do care, very deeply.
January 2013
I couldn’t sleep. This insomnia was restless, heavy and unexpected. My sleeplessness was driven by an overwhelming sense of injustice and change in the place my family has lived for six generations. I was seeing the impact of austerity and welfare reform in my community. Rough sleeping was visibly rising. Tents and sleeping bags were appearing in our local parks, in our shopping centres and high streets and under flyovers. Poverty was tangible and struggle was all around me. I was feeling compelled to respond. But why? Why me, why now, and what exactly was I going to do?
One particular night I was up again, out of bed and in my front room, fed up with spending my nights in front of the TV. I did something strange for me: I grabbed my rarely read Bible from the bookshelf, flicked it open and landed on Isaiah 58. It was not a verse I had read before; I guess it must have bypassed my Sunday School years. However, my son Joey was writing about fasting, and I thought at least I would be able to spend the night gathering ideas for him. The passage was entitled, ‘the True Fast.’
‘Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loosen the chains of injustice
and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
and break every yoke?
7 Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe them,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
8 Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness will go before you,
and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.
9 Then you will call, and the Lord will answer;
you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.’
Was that it? Could this ancient text be giving me answers? Food for those who are hungry, shelter for the homeless, clothing and basic provision for those in need around me. Was it that simple? Was it that huge?
I went to bed and fell asleep.
My experience of church was small; in fact I only really knew about Bonny Downs Baptist Church. I was dedicated there at 23 days old, in a building where my grandad had put in the windows in the 1930s and where my Nan had faithfully cleaned ever since. I had not ventured beyond the known safety of these church walls. But emboldened by Isaiah 58 and intrigued to find out if Newham was ‘sheltering the homeless’ I started to ask around.
This ‘stepping into the unknown’ led to the initial bringing together of 6 brave Newham churches, who were persuaded to help live out this vision, and with the support of Housing Justice in November 2013 we opened NEWway - a churches night shelter in Newham.
On Saturday 2nd November 2013, St. George and St. Ethelbert’s Church opened its door to two guests. With way too much food and heaps of enthusiasm we met Mohammed and Stephen. We were all overwhelmed and apprehensive as we sat at a table and ate an amazing meal. Stephen and Mohammed both had their own incredible stories to tell, but for me Stephen became my teacher. Already in his mid-60s and physically disabled by cerebral palsy, Stephen had walked away from his accommodation, driven out by the drug dealing and exploitation from his neighbours. Deemed ‘intentionally homeless’ by his local authority, Stephen took to sleeping on the night buses and sitting quietly in the libraries.
Stephen stayed with us in NEWway for 56 days. We celebrated with naïve joy when, after weeks of hard work, he got keys to his own private rented studio flat in neighbouring Leyton. Our various church volunteers helped equip the little kitchenette and provided new bedding and curtains. I felt so thrilled and deeply satisfied. But the next evening Stephen came back to the night shelter. Each night he would turn up, eating with us, sometimes staying over, making teas and chatting to other guests. Stephen was clearly not as satisfied with his little room in Leyton as I was.
I continued to listen to Stephen, and he taught me the best lesson of the last twelve years. Stephen did not only need a roof; he was also seeking a place to belong. He had found this in the night shelter, a place that knew him, a community that he was part of that would miss him when he wasn’t there. The night shelter was a community where he felt accepted and where he could also support others. The keys to his studio flat were also the keys to a return to loneliness.
In 2016, NEWway became a registered charity, and we have continued to partner the Churches in Newham to provide safety and warmth over the winter. 16 church buildings and 22 congregations now work together. NEWway also opened a day centre, a place of community, purpose and belonging, which is integrated into London Borough of Newham’s rough sleeping strategy and response. We also have 2 social enterprises and hope one day to run our own accommodation.
I have never forgotten Stephen and the lessons he taught me. We need a place to belong, somewhere we are known by people who care, somewhere we can use our gifts and skills, somewhere we can receive support and love. That ‘somewhere’ is called community.
Stephen’s lessons have shaped the mission and values of NEWway, where I now have the title of Director - but the privilege of seeing every day the impact that faith, community and love can have on those who are homeless and destitute. Every day I see how much we can change when we come together. How our values of welcome, love and empowerment can be lived out in places of safety, purpose and belonging.
Back to April 2025, and the graffiti under the flyover.
We had just finished our 12th winter circuit, and had 36 people stay with us, one of whom was VK. A lovely, kind, hardworking, friendly gentle-man who was also alcohol dependent. His alcoholism had ruined his work in the UK, prevented a return to his home country and had caused his estrangement from his wife and child. At times he would leave the shelter and day centre in the grips of addiction and despair. Our door never closed to him, although at times his behavior meant we needed to hold boundaries and ensure the safety of himself and others. He would come back to us, always welcomed, always loved. VK had started to attend Sunday services in the churches who had hosted him. He once likened himself to the prodigal son, always welcomed back with wide arms, a smile and a hug.
Then on 21st April 2025, we got news that shook us all. We were told by another guest that VK had passed away, rough sleeping in a local park. We tried to find out more information, eventually speaking to the local mortuary who confirmed that an unidentified male had passed away in the park, and the police had found no ID and no means to identify him.
But he was known to us, he was named, missed and much loved. We helped the police with the needed identification and were able to put them in touch with his wife and family.
The graffiti on the flyover, Stephen’s lessons, and the passage of the prodigal son took on a profound new meaning for myself and the team in NEWway.
No one in our community should disappear unnoticed and without care. We all need places to welcome us back. We need places to belong. The days following VK’s death meant that we pushed deeply into our spaces of belonging. It became vital for all of us. For the other guests who had stayed in the shelter with VK, for the volunteers who had cooked, and hosted him, for our staff who had loved and supported him, for his family who knew him before we did - we all needed a place to belong and to grieve. NEWway and the churches of Newham had become that place.
There was a comfort in knowing that VK knew he had a place with us, both in life and in death. RIP our dear friend.
Thank you Stephen!
Angie Allgood is the fourth of six generations to live in the same few streets of East Ham, in Newham, East London, UK. Angie has been a social worker for over 35 years, has founded two local charities and pioneered many community activities. Her current role is as the Director of NEWway Project, a small local Newham charity. NEWway supports single adults affected by homelessness, providing purpose, belonging and safety, joining with churches and the people of Newham to restore lives affected by homelessness.
Listen to Angie speak about her life and work on our Leaving Egypt podcast here