Help Vadim- A homeless artist who deserves a future

There is a man named Vadim in Tenerife—an artist who for some time, has been forgotten and failed by the system, neglected by society, and left to survive in the most unimaginable, inhumane and horrific conditions. His story from what I know to be so far is one of pain, suffering, heartache, neglect, and a desperate fight for survival. I am still seeking to know more about Vadim and am actively working closely with an individual from Tenerife to find out more about this gentleman and also to ensure he is being cared for and looking for further ways I can assist in giving him the best possible chance for a future! But from what I know, what I’ve seen, what I am seeing now and what I’m hoping and praying for - it is also a story of a second chance, a real chance—a chance that he is clearly willing to embrace.

Vadim is currently living on the streets of Tenerife, he sleeps at a bench next to a bus stop in front of the “Hard Rock Hotel”- one of the most luxurious and well known resorts on the island. I first noticed Vadim after spending the day at this hotel. I was walking to the bus stop to return to Costa Adeje and noticed him on the bench counting small change. He sat elegantly with his legs crossed and I glanced at his face as I walked by yet I couldn’t help but notice the horrific scene at his feet. His legs were purple and black, he had sores from his knees to his toes, serious open wounds covering his legs, with a swarm of flies around them. I couldn’t help but look over multiple times and I was convinced for some time that this was actually fake because I had never seen anything like it in my life. It was a scene you would expect to see from a horror movie. I could not believe my eyes what I had witnessed. I walked over to him and gave him some small change as I don’t like to give homeless money as I know they can use this to feed into addiction however I wanted to do something, I did regret this after but it was better than nothing and I didn’t know what else to do in that time. I sat waiting on my bus severely triggered and was still in shock and disbelief with the condition of this gentleman’s health. When I arrived back to my hotel I sat up all night researching into government bodies and local laws in Tenerife because I was in so much shock that this guy was allowed to be left like this. I had researched local charities and organisations in hope to find someone that would know of Vadim or be able to help him or if he was already in hands of care. I had wrote onto a Tenerife forum and into a expats and locals group concerned about his wellbeing asking if anyone knew of him or if anyone could go and check on him. I made clear that Vadim needed immediate medical treatment and he was in critical condition.

Upon posting on these groups I received comments from locals. Some were helpful and some were horrific. I had people recommending charities one of which is the lead charity in Tenerife which are supposed to help people with addiction and homelessness- which may I add briefly later to be discussed turned out to be no help whatsoever and a complete waste of time my to reach out to! I received a horrific comment on one post from a local that- and I quote “He gets food, and drink and there's a public toilet, that he doesn't use, close by as is the beach should he need a wash. He gets hosed down

In the mornings when the streets are done.” This comment has stuck by me and is engraved into me. A man, a human, a soul, a person, a father, a son… being hosed down by the local council. I had many more.

I had one extremely helpful and soul touching comment from a guy who knew of Vadim whom I then reached out to personally. This guy became a big part in informing me of Vadims’ character and a story behind him. He had sent me a photo of Vadim which he had taken months previous (cover picture) to confirm it was the same guy. Must I add that from looking at this picture, he was in much worse condition at the time when I saw him.

He told me that Vadim was an artist and a painter. He mentioned that he used to paint in the streets in the past but believes he had things stolen from him. Fabi described Vadim with a deep sense of compassion and sorrow — not as the man many passersby saw on a bench, but as someone much more human and wounded. He mentioned that he is a kind gentleman and knows a lot about culture. He said he was quiet, gentle, and incredibly polite. He never begged or asked for anything, even when he was clearly in need. His presence was marked by dignity despite his condition, and a softness that contradicted the harsh assumptions others made about him. Fabi also noted that Vadim rarely spoke, but when he did, it was thoughtful — or simply sitting in silence, watching the world pass by. His pain was visible, not just physically in his deteriorating condition, but in his spirit — a quiet ache of someone who had endured too much for too long.

He saw a man who wasn’t angry at the world, but rather abandoned by it — and said that even in his suffering, there was something kind and deeply spiritual about him.

On another post I had again, an extremely helpful lady who volunteers and helps around Tenerife who was extremely helpful.She described the health and social support systems in Tenerife with honest frustration and a sense of deep disappointment. She explained that although there are hospitals and a few resources on paper, in reality, there is no real support for the homeless. The only accommodation available is either elderly care homes costing over €4,000 a month or hostels that are overcrowded, unsafe, and charge around €40+ a night—a completely unattainable option for someone like Vadim. She highlighted that there’s no true infrastructure for homelessness—no outreach, no proper shelters, and no public system in place to protect or rehabilitate people like Vadim. Charities are often overwhelmed, under-resourced, or disorganised, and in some cases, focused more on internal operations or religious activities than on direct aid. Despite having volunteers like her partner cooking meals and trying to help, she said the operation lacked proper leadership, empathy, and meaningful outreach. She was also critical of the inconsistency of aid, mentioning that AA and NA meetings come and go, with only a few stable individuals really showing up to help. She painted a clear picture: the system wasn’t broken — it simply didn’t exist in any meaningful form for those who are homeless and addicted. I saw this with my own eyes.

I also gained information from a paramedic who was able to disclose some information to me about him. The information I received from the paramedic was incredibly sobering and urgent. When I described Vadim’s condition — particularly the state of his feet, which appeared infected and swarmed with flies — the paramedic made it very clear: Vadim was going to die if he didn’t accept hospital treatment. The paramedic had tried before to get Vadim to come in, but he refused care. They emphasized the critical state of his health. She recently visited Vadim and brought with her a translator pack and communicated with Vadim in English, Spanish, and his native language to ensure he understood the urgency of his condition. She explained clearly that if he didn’t go to the hospital, he could lose his leg. Despite understanding, Vadim refused medical help at that time. The paramedic remained calm and compassionate, but Vadim was firm in his refusal. The paramedic’s warning made it clear that time was running out. Without intervention, Vadim’s wounds and declining health would lead to sepsis or worse.

I was extremely concerned and invested in him and it really touched home to me. Over the space of 4 days I was able to build a strong case on Vadim and got to know what I could about him. What felt like endless back and forth chat and me asking a million and one questions, seeking answers I knew all I needed to at that time. Enough to know that he at the least is a human in serious and critical need.

What struck me most was the contradiction in what I was told. Locals said he was “known” by the charities — that he was a regular, that he had access to food, showers, even a place to sleep. Yet when I contacted what is considered the top charity in Tenerife, they had never even heard of him. A man lying on a public bench for months, possibly years, with rotting feet and flies circling his open wounds — and not a single outreach team had his name. How could someone so visible be so invisible to the very systems that claim to help? It exposed a devastating failure in the system — one that would have let Vadim die in plain sight, forgotten and written off as a lost cause. I must also add that I checked out these “public toilets” myself whilst in the area and all where locked and not open to the public and where for customers only and no showers around. In the days following my first encounter with Vadim, I began to reach out to local charities, hoping for any form of intervention or support. I was desperately trying to get help for him, but my efforts were met with shockingly little action.

One of the main, major and one of 3 charities in the area which raises hundreds of thousands Euro- the very organization that claims to help the homeless and people suffering from addiction — completely failed to take action. I contacted them, explaining Vadim’s condition and how urgent the situation was. But instead of offering help, they continued to ignore the severity of what I was explaining to them. What was even more infuriating was that during this time, they were fundraising and having a staff party — a clear indication of misplaced priorities. Instead of helping someone in critical condition, they chose to throw a celebration. It felt like the system was broken, and Vadim was being left behind.

In my conversation with this charity, I felt like they were just going through the motions. They seemed apathetic and dismissive, and instead of offering any practical solutions, they continued to focus on their administrative concerns. I couldn’t believe that the man I was fighting for, Vadim, was being treated like a non-issue by those who claim to serve the vulnerable.

What I discovered about this charity’s failure to respond has only motivated me to ensure that Vadim receives the care he needs, while questioning the transparency of how fundraising efforts are being used.

It was clear that Vadim had been forgotten by the system, left to fend for himself, and when I asked for help, I was told there was nothing they could do until he accepted treatment. I told them that all this guy needed was to be spoke to like a human and to know that he is seen and to maybe give some hope and encouragement to accept the services available to him. I begged for help, expressing how critical the situation was, and asked if there was any way the charity could assist Vadim by helping him get medical care. No one from the local charity even acknowledged his presence until I became involved. The lack of urgency from those in positions of power and responsibility left me feeling completely disillusioned by a system that is meant to protect the most vulnerable. It was clear that Vadim’s life and well-being meant very little to those who should have cared the most. No one seemed to understand or care about the emotional and psychological trauma Vadim had endured, nor the fact that he was a man in severe physical pain.

I was left with no choice but to keep pushing.

Vadim had even painted for a local church — a mural done with care, despite his dire condition. You would think that kind of contribution, that kind of quiet offering, would mean something. That they’d keep an eye on him, or at least acknowledge him. But when I reached out to ask if they knew him or could help in any way, I was met with silence. Not even a reply. A man who had given what little he had — his art, his time, a piece of himself — was left unseen, even by the very place he tried to serve. It was a heartbreaking reflection of how easily people slip through the cracks, even when they’ve already given more than most ever will.

Despite being in a visibly critical condition, Vadim was offered medical assistance multiple times. Ambulances were called, and emergency services visited him on more than one occasion — yet each time, he refused to go to the hospital. This man, ravaged by infection and visibly suffering, chose not to accept the help. I was unsure why he would not accept this help- I questioned it multiple times. I be n fact it baffled me… Did he loose hope? Did something happen? Did he want to suffer? Has he given up? Does he just want to die? Did he have fear? Was it because of his addiction? Was it because he was already neglected by so many? What is it? I wonder why? Is there nothing that can be done to force him? Shouldn’t he be medically assessed to see if he can make these decisions? A local seems to think he feared his “things would disappear” but really what would be more important to loose than your life? I had so many thoughts and the answer still remains open.

Over the last 3 days since crossing paths with Vadim he did not leave my mind. I was so concerned for Vadims life actively seeking help for him through the local charity and speaking to my two contacts and doing my own research. The more I got to know on him, the more I spoke with my contact about the systems in place in Tenerife the more worried and helpless I felt for him. I kept thinking to myself I want to bring him art supplies, I want to go see him, I need to go back. God was speaking to me and he told me that I could not leave this one behind. I felt it in my soul. I felt it deep in my heart. I knew I never crossed paths with this man for no reason. I sat with it, it kept me awake at night, it didn’t leave me… I knew I had to go.

I woke up on the Sunday with Vadim still on my mind. It was my last full day in Tenerife. I knew I would never forgive myself if I didn’t listen to my heart. I told my friends I was going to go see him again.

I sat on the edge of my bed and began writing not just a note but a letter onto my phone. A letter from one soul to another. An artist to an artist. I introduced myself and told him who I was, where I’d come from, that I’d crossed paths with him, questioned if he’d remembered me giving him change, I apologised for this, told him I wanted to do so much much and why I couldn’t ignore his pain. I shared a personal story to show him as to what triggered me, I shared a story of my Godfather who had a similar condition on his legs and recently passed away and shared another story to show he wasn’t alone. I spoke from the deepest place of my heart and soul- a place of compassion — making sure he felt seen, heard, valued. I showed empathy, but I also respected his autonomy. I offered both practical help and emotional care. I reminded him that he and his art was powerful, that he had purpose, and that his life still held meaning. I connected it all back to something bigger — to God, to Grace, to renewal. I planted a seed of hope. I reminded him of his worth, I let him know I took some time to find out information about him, I showed that I truly cared for him. I wrote a lot in the letter.

I had the entire letter translated into his native language so he could truly understand that someone cared not just about his condition, but about him as a human being. I then re wrote the letter into a colouring book that I had taken with me for the plane as I had no paper.

I got myself ready and headed out in search for a shop that sold art supplies as I wanted to gift him these as I knew in my soul they could bring him healing. I walked around and eventually found somewhere. I bought him some materials then headed to the station and took the bus, back to where Vadim stays. When I arrived at the location Vadim was not there. I went to a shop to buy him some food and water hoping that he was there when I returned. He was not. I searched the area and could not see him. I contacted the local I was in contact with and they had not seen him that day. I went another walk then waited by the sea. I decided to wait there and draw Vadim a wee picture. I drew something simple and wrote “start somewhere”. I traced round my hand and wrote on it “you are not alone” in his language. I then drew him a little picture which included a sunflower to symbolise hope and positivity. I stayed in the around for around 4 hours. It was getting late and I needed to make my way back as I had the keys to the apartment and needed to let my friends in soon and I was far from the hotel. I couldn’t go without leaving the supplies so I wrote his name on the bag, I tied it then I hung it on his bench and I prayed. I felt guilty in that moment, scared that he wouldn’t get my letter, I felt like I failed him. I wish I could have stayed longer. I contacted the locals asking it would be safe- they replied “I'm sure nobody will go anywhere near it, that is probably the only advantage he has.” this broke my heart, however it added hope that Vadim would receive the bag.

The next day I returned home to the UK. For the next days I continued to reach out the charity whom failed Vadim- they still haven’t acknowledged him. I kept contact with my contact and asked that she keep me updated on him if she hears back anything.

It has now been just over two weeks since I left Tenerife, but not a day has passed without thinking about Vadim. Last night, I received a message from my contact on the ground — and it brought me to tears.

Vadim is finally on the mend. He received the letter I wrote him, along with the supplies I left behind. And more importantly — he finally accepted medical help.

Vadim spent the last 10 days in hospital receiving urgent medical treatment. His feet and legs, once infected and swarmed by flies, are healing. His spirit, once broken and silenced by society’s indifference, is beginning to stir again.

Vadim is painting again. With the art supplies I brought and new ones sent by another kind soul who is now helping Vadim- a friend of my contact.

He’s returned to the one thing that gives him peace — creating.

His hands, once dismissed as those of a “hopeless alcoholic,” now create beauty that speaks louder than words. His art is his voice, and it’s speaking of resilience, of grace, of life still worth living.

That letter reached him in a way nothing else had. It was after reading it that Vadim, after so long refusing help, finally agreed to go to hospital. That letter didn’t just offer words — it offered dignity, love, and maybe even saved his life.

I never gave up on Vadim and still now I want to do more. I refused to accept the lack of intervention, and through persistence, genuine care , through love, through something that came from my soul I was able to convince Vadim to agreeing to go to the hospital and receiving the treatment he so desperately needed.

But the reality is, it should never have come to this. A random tourist in a country she’s only just visited, a solo , one person girl, changing a life which a full system failed to do. A simple act of kindness or intervention earlier could have saved him from much of the mental, emotional and physical pain he endured.

I don’t know what part of the letter touched his heart, or what exactly I said that made him change his mind but what I do know and have knew in my soul that this man is a man worth fighting for. Vadim is now clean. He is willing to accept help. He is ready to fight for his future—but he needs a chance. He needs a place to heal, a place where he can begin to rebuild his life and rediscover the man he once was. He is not just a homeless man—he is an artist, a creative spirit, a man with so much potential to offer the world.

But he can’t do it alone.

The journey ahead is far from easy. He has been completely neglected by society. The local charities, the authorities, and the people who should have helped him turned a blind eye for far too long. But now, there is hope. Vadim has shown that he is ready to fight for his future—and I am here to support him every step of the way.

I refuse to abandon him. I have touched his heart with my words, and now I am actively seeking ways to help him. My goal is to provide continued support for Vadim whether that be a safe place to live, the support he needs to stay sober, or the space to create his artwork. I believe that with the right care, Vadim can start over, with a chance to heal and reclaim his life.

This is not just about raising money; it’s about standing up against the corruption and failure of a system that has neglected Vadim and so many others like him. It’s about giving Vadim a second chance, one that he has earned through his own resilience. It’s about making sure he knows he is not alone and that he has people who care about him.

I am launching this campaign to raise the funds necessary to get Vadim the help he deserves. Whether it’s funding a safe place for him to live, providing him with mental health support, or helping him build a future where he can sell his artwork, every little bit counts. Together, we can give Vadim the life he has always deserved—a life filled with dignity, respect, and hope.

Please join me in supporting Vadim. Let’s make sure that his story doesn’t end in tragedy. Let’s make sure that he is seen, that he is heard, and that he gets the help he so desperately needs. This is a man who still has so much to offer the world, and with your help, we can give him the opportunity to do just that.