From life to life
At SCDI, we believe that the strength and resilience of our organization lie in the quiet individuals working behind the scenes. They are the ones who stay close to the community day after day, who devote their time to stories few have the patience to hear, and who persistently stand beside those whose lives may seem devoid of hope.
SCDI is proud to walk alongside dedicated, passionate individuals with empathy and open hearts. Each member of SCDI has their own journey and their own reasons for being here, yet they meet at a common point: a shared commitment and a shared joy in witnessing change in the lives of individuals, families, and entire communities.
The story of Nguyễn Hồng Phúc is one such beautiful example. Like the good fortune and blessings embodied in his name, "Hồng Phúc," he brings warmth and love to those in need, offering motivation and faith to those who are walking this journey alongside him.
Thank you so much, Phúc
You've been looking so frail lately, please take care of your health, Phúc
Daddy Phúc is here!
Following him to the onion, garlic, and scrap-metal slums – dilapidated shacks with corrugated iron roofs nestled within the glamorous city of Saigon – we couldn’t help but be surprised by the warm welcome the locals gave him. From adults who had endured countless hardships and struggles in life, to children with innocent, naive faces who had probably experienced many disadvantages, they all greeted him excitedly, as if welcoming a member of their own family.
What creates such a deep bond? Why is a project officer called “Daddy” or called “Phúc ơi” so affectionately?
What creates such a deep bond? Why is a project officer called “Daddy” or called “Phúc ơi” so affectionately?
Perhaps it is no exaggeration to say that, thanks to him, many lives have changed, from children abandoned on the streets who never knew their parents, to young people who lost their way into substance abuse, or families who seemed trapped in a cycle of hardship.
Phúc is a project officer at SCDI in Ho Chi Minh City, directly implementing intervention activities to support vulnerable children, youth, and communities. But beyond being a member of SCDI, he also takes on many other roles: the one who distributes meals, the one who handles birth certificates, the one who stands as a guarantor, the godfather to children, and more.
He carries his own story too, from a child growing up on the streets to someone who has dedicated most of his life to helping people living on the margins of society.
Phúc is a project officer at SCDI in Ho Chi Minh City, directly implementing intervention activities to support vulnerable children, youth, and communities. But beyond being a member of SCDI, he also takes on many other roles: the one who distributes meals, the one who handles birth certificates, the one who stands as a guarantor, the godfather to children, and more.
He carries his own story too, from a child growing up on the streets to someone who has dedicated most of his life to helping people living on the margins of society.
Children on the streets
When talking about his childhood, Phúc doesn’t hesitate at all. Those years are so deeply etched in his memory that he can recount every detail as if it were yesterday. “I was born on the streets, raised on the streets. I did all kinds of jobs from a very young age and went through all sorts of things. If no one had helped me back then, I might not be literate, unable to fit into society, and unable to feel the love and compassion between people.”
Phúc’s mother had been married many times. He was the youngest of more than ten siblings and was abandoned by his biological father even before he was born. While pregnant, his mother and one of his older sisters moved to a new economic zone in Thu Dau Mot (now in Binh Phuoc). But life there was too harsh, and after wandering for a while, they eventually returned to Saigon. With no home, no identification papers, and no money, his mother put up a small shack by Bach Dang Wharf for them to stay.
Phúc’s mother had been married many times. He was the youngest of more than ten siblings and was abandoned by his biological father even before he was born. While pregnant, his mother and one of his older sisters moved to a new economic zone in Thu Dau Mot (now in Binh Phuoc). But life there was too harsh, and after wandering for a while, they eventually returned to Saigon. With no home, no identification papers, and no money, his mother put up a small shack by Bach Dang Wharf for them to stay.
Phúc was born at Tu Du Hospital. Because his mother had no money to pay the hospital fees, she fled with him immediately after giving birth and returned to their makeshift shack. His mother and siblings took care of one another to get by. Phúc’s older sister had to wash diapers and clothes for hire to earn money to support her mother and younger sibling. His mother, already older and unable to breastfeed, had to squeeze rice water and mix it with sugar to feed him. There was a time when he had diarrhea and was severely malnourished. Amid such deprivation, “little” Phúc kept growing day by day.
By the age of three, Phúc had already begun working on the streets, becoming the “breadwinner” of the family. He often sat near drinking stalls and collected the beer cans people tossed away. “One can could be sold for 120 dong back then. A case had 24 cans, and in one night, I could collect 200–300 cans to sell. I brought the money earned home and gave it to my mother. As I grew a little older, I took on more jobs, like selling newspapers, lottery tickets, and shining shoes.”
By the age of three, Phúc had already begun working on the streets, becoming the “breadwinner” of the family. He often sat near drinking stalls and collected the beer cans people tossed away. “One can could be sold for 120 dong back then. A case had 24 cans, and in one night, I could collect 200–300 cans to sell. I brought the money earned home and gave it to my mother. As I grew a little older, I took on more jobs, like selling newspapers, lottery tickets, and shining shoes.”
A child growing up on the streets was never taught what they should or should not do; there is only one rule: "as long as I have money to live on."
Living right next to Bach Dang Wharf, Phuc's childhood was filled with experiences that most children never go through. “Bathing meant jumping straight into the river and washing clothes too. After almost drowning once, I learned how to swim. (laughs)… I only had one set of clothes that I would hang on a tree to dry, but when I went up, they were gone. With nothing to wear, I had to grab a sack to cover myself.”
His early struggle for survival demanded essential instincts, including being wary of everyone, because anyone could harm or exploit him. “We were all street kids, but the older ones would bully and extort money from the younger ones. On days when I had no money, I didn't dare go home because my mother and sister would beat me. At that time, I didn't trust anyone, not even my family. I thought that only with money could I survive; otherwise, even if I was gone for 4-5 days, no one would look for me.”
“On days when I had no rice, I would scrape the coconut meat from coconuts people had finished drinking and thrown away to ease my hunger. Or I would go to Pho restaurants or drinking places and ask for leftovers to get through the day.”
His early struggle for survival demanded essential instincts, including being wary of everyone, because anyone could harm or exploit him. “We were all street kids, but the older ones would bully and extort money from the younger ones. On days when I had no money, I didn't dare go home because my mother and sister would beat me. At that time, I didn't trust anyone, not even my family. I thought that only with money could I survive; otherwise, even if I was gone for 4-5 days, no one would look for me.”
“On days when I had no rice, I would scrape the coconut meat from coconuts people had finished drinking and thrown away to ease my hunger. Or I would go to Pho restaurants or drinking places and ask for leftovers to get through the day.”
"I weave young tamarind branches together to make a bird's nest,
then collect cardboard boxes to spread out as a bed.''
“On days when I couldn’t go back to the shack, I slept up in the trees. I would weave young tamarind branches together to make a bird’s nest, then collect cardboard boxes to spread out as a bed. Sometimes I slept on the roofs of power stations. Back then, all I cared about was having a place to sleep; no one taught me to fear thunder, rain, getting electrocuted, or falling to the ground. I only knew that sleeping in high places would help me avoid being exploited and extorted by the older kids.”
However, the pitfalls facing street children are not just hardship and deprivation.
“Living on the streets, you have to live in groups to survive; otherwise, you simply can’t. Whatever the others do, you end up doing too: smoking, drugs, gambling, everything. In a group, if one person does it, the rest follow. You don't understand, and you are not afraid. And when you are starved for affection, that rush you feel when you join in, it just pulls you in, little by little.”
However, the pitfalls facing street children are not just hardship and deprivation.
“Living on the streets, you have to live in groups to survive; otherwise, you simply can’t. Whatever the others do, you end up doing too: smoking, drugs, gambling, everything. In a group, if one person does it, the rest follow. You don't understand, and you are not afraid. And when you are starved for affection, that rush you feel when you join in, it just pulls you in, little by little.”
Watching other kids with their parents, seeing them carry schoolbags, being cared for and pampered, I felt pity for myself...
Phúc's childhood days passed by like that, struggling to survive amidst a harsh life, with no opportunity to learn to read or write, and no chance to question why he had to go through these things.
Although life on the streets had hardened Phúc, deep down, he still longed to be loved. “Wandering all day like that, there were times when I was angry, and deeply sad. Watching other kids with their parents, seeing them carry schoolbags, being cared for and pampered, I felt pity for myself. I had a mother, but she didn’t care. And my father, I didn’t even know where he was or what he looked like. What hurt even more was wondering why someone as little as me had to earn money to support the adults…”
Although life on the streets had hardened Phúc, deep down, he still longed to be loved. “Wandering all day like that, there were times when I was angry, and deeply sad. Watching other kids with their parents, seeing them carry schoolbags, being cared for and pampered, I felt pity for myself. I had a mother, but she didn’t care. And my father, I didn’t even know where he was or what he looked like. What hurt even more was wondering why someone as little as me had to earn money to support the adults…”
A life transformed
In 1992, 13-year-old Phúc joined a class organized for street children. For the first time, he learned to read and write, and above all, the realization that someone really cared and wanted him to have a better life brought him to a turning point in his life.
“We called the teachers in that class ‘street teachers.’ At first, I was very suspicious, thinking, ‘Are they journalists or police officers coming to arrest me?’ So, I didn’t agree to study with them. Another guy and I conspired to steal the teacher’s bicycle and sell it. But after the teacher found out, while others would have beaten or scolded us, he still talked to me if nothing had happened, asked where I sold it, and said that he would go there and get it back.”
“We called the teachers in that class ‘street teachers.’ At first, I was very suspicious, thinking, ‘Are they journalists or police officers coming to arrest me?’ So, I didn’t agree to study with them. Another guy and I conspired to steal the teacher’s bicycle and sell it. But after the teacher found out, while others would have beaten or scolded us, he still talked to me if nothing had happened, asked where I sold it, and said that he would go there and get it back.”
In addition to teaching, the teachers organized small activities: cooking, eating, and sharing the joys and sorrows of the day. “That had a strong impact on me. The teachers came to me with a heart, they listened to what I shared, they followed me home to talk to my mother, helped me get the paperwork to go to school, and rekindled my belief that there are still good people around me.”
From that small street classroom, Phúc's life took a different turn, which also led him onto the path of supporting others who had lived lives like his own.
He attended a charity class for primary school. He went to school in the mornings and worked on the streets in the afternoons to make a living, gradually completing middle school and then high school. After graduating from high school, he continued his studies in electrical engineering with the simple thought of finding a decent job to support himself. But something else still urged him on: "In the mornings, I work, and in the evenings, I participate in projects that need volunteers to support street children."
He attended a charity class for primary school. He went to school in the mornings and worked on the streets in the afternoons to make a living, gradually completing middle school and then high school. After graduating from high school, he continued his studies in electrical engineering with the simple thought of finding a decent job to support himself. But something else still urged him on: "In the mornings, I work, and in the evenings, I participate in projects that need volunteers to support street children."
In 2006, Phúc participated in a community project supporting nearly 500 children living with HIV who live and work on the streets. After that experience, he realized, "Kindness alone isn't enough; I need proper training to provide more effective and sustainable support."
Thus, Phuc continued his studies, majoring in Social Work. While studying, he continued working and supporting street children. Two years after completing his program, he joined SCDI — continuing his journey of applying his acquired knowledge, accumulated experience, and personal qualities to support the community.
“When I was struggling, others helped me. Now that I’m stronger and more stable, I think about the people coming after me who also need that support. It’s not just about daily food; what truly matters is giving them the knowledge and skills to stand on their own, even when there is no one around to support them.”
Thus, Phuc continued his studies, majoring in Social Work. While studying, he continued working and supporting street children. Two years after completing his program, he joined SCDI — continuing his journey of applying his acquired knowledge, accumulated experience, and personal qualities to support the community.
“When I was struggling, others helped me. Now that I’m stronger and more stable, I think about the people coming after me who also need that support. It’s not just about daily food; what truly matters is giving them the knowledge and skills to stand on their own, even when there is no one around to support them.”
Because I was once where they are
Over his eight years at SCDI, Phúc has worked with and supported many vulnerable communities, from street children, people living with HIV, people who use drugs, undocumented individuals, to families living in makeshift slums. But what keeps him persistent and empathetic is not simply the role he holds; it is because “I was once someone like them.”
“Although everyone has their own circumstances and story, I can relate because I’ve been through the same thing, I’ve been alone, stuck in a dead end, and surrounded by pitfalls. When you’re on your own, it’s easy to ignore the consequences and act recklessly without thinking about the future.”
“Although everyone has their own circumstances and story, I can relate because I’ve been through the same thing, I’ve been alone, stuck in a dead end, and surrounded by pitfalls. When you’re on your own, it’s easy to ignore the consequences and act recklessly without thinking about the future.”
His story is the root of all his persistent efforts for those on the margins of society. He sees a reflection of his past self in them, trapped in a seemingly dead-end spiral. “Clients in Ho Chi Minh City face so many difficulties. Many children do not have birth certificates, adults do not have identification cards, and no stable jobs. And without identification documents, they can’t be referred for ARV treatment (Antiretrovirals are medicines used to treat HIV, working by blocking different stages of the virus's life cycle to stop it from replicating), and they can’t buy health insurance.”
Phúc spoke about children who have no parents by their side, living only with their frail grandparents. For these families, the priority is simply earning enough to eat each day, not sending the children to school. Perhaps the children may want a better life, but no doors are open for them: no identification papers, no one to guide them, no money for rent or water. They are born and raised in an environment lacking even the most basic necessities.
Phúc spoke about children who have no parents by their side, living only with their frail grandparents. For these families, the priority is simply earning enough to eat each day, not sending the children to school. Perhaps the children may want a better life, but no doors are open for them: no identification papers, no one to guide them, no money for rent or water. They are born and raised in an environment lacking even the most basic necessities.
"The fact that everyone is born with identification and is recognized is something I have always been thinking about. As the children grow up, no one teaches them about the basic changes in their own bodies. Without school and without knowledge, they become curious and may unintentionally fall into harmful situations. Not to mention the risk of being lured into drug trafficking or prostitution just to have money. Those images stay with me all the time.”
Access to HIV prevention and harm reduction services for substance use remains limited, as young people hide their situations, stay defensive, and mistrustful. “That is the hardest part when trying to support them. But just like my teacher in the past, if someone comes to us with honesty, patience, and a willingness to listen, our loneliness and hardship slowly begin to ease.”
Access to HIV prevention and harm reduction services for substance use remains limited, as young people hide their situations, stay defensive, and mistrustful. “That is the hardest part when trying to support them. But just like my teacher in the past, if someone comes to us with honesty, patience, and a willingness to listen, our loneliness and hardship slowly begin to ease.”
Perseverance, little by little, day by day
Throughout his time at SCDI, Phúc has been known as a diligent, enthusiastic officer who is wholeheartedly dedicated to the community. Weekdays or weekends, rain or shine, day or night, if someone called, he would find a way to be there. Beyond implementing project activities, he busied himself with countless side tasks: accompanying children to obtain legal documents, bringing clients to medical facilities, visiting slum areas, or simply sitting and listening to someone confide about things they had never dared to tell anyone else. Perhaps that is why he has become a welcome “familiar face” whenever visiting slum areas.
Phúc smiled, “There are many failures, even more than successes.” Then he told the story of a client who came from the countryside to the city to find work, was lured into sex work, and forced to use drugs. After reaching them, he and the SCDI team began to support them, from harm reduction information to counseling and job referrals. Little by little, they quit drugs, built a family, and had a stable life.
Phúc smiled, “There are many failures, even more than successes.” Then he told the story of a client who came from the countryside to the city to find work, was lured into sex work, and forced to use drugs. After reaching them, he and the SCDI team began to support them, from harm reduction information to counseling and job referrals. Little by little, they quit drugs, built a family, and had a stable life.
But there are sad stories as well. One client, once a street child and a drug user, had been supported by Phúc for a long time; yet they eventually returned to drugs and were later incarcerated. In such cases, Phúc did not feel sad in a hopeless way, but he saw the moments when the client had a chance, their eyes still lit up when talking about the future.
The amazing thing is that some people, whom he once thought "they probably won't change," unexpectedly rose up strongly. For Phúc, the core element for a person's change always comes from within themselves. Support from projects or social workers can only open doors, provide knowledge and skills, and build a bridge for them. Once the clients become more stable, many come back again as collaborators or connectors to support others.
The amazing thing is that some people, whom he once thought "they probably won't change," unexpectedly rose up strongly. For Phúc, the core element for a person's change always comes from within themselves. Support from projects or social workers can only open doors, provide knowledge and skills, and build a bridge for them. Once the clients become more stable, many come back again as collaborators or connectors to support others.
I have faith in humanity. We are all human beings, after all. We have eyes to see, ears to listen, a mind to think, and a warm heart beating in our chests.
Change takes root in the smallest of things. As Phúc said, we may not dare dream of supporting everyone or bringing about something grand, but sometimes patience, a single action, a shift in mindset, a life catching a faint glimmer of hope to keep moving forward, a belief that one is worthy of a second chance, may be enough to transform a life.
We are grateful to walk alongside warm-hearted and dedicated individuals who quietly sow the seeds of change, who build connections from one person to another, so that kindness and hope can ripple outward to individuals, families, and the entire community around them.
We are grateful to walk alongside warm-hearted and dedicated individuals who quietly sow the seeds of change, who build connections from one person to another, so that kindness and hope can ripple outward to individuals, families, and the entire community around them.
Content: Anh Cao
Editing: Hùng Nguyễn
Design and Illustration: Lê Quỳnh Trang
Copyright © 2025, Center for Supporting Community Development Initiatives (SCDI)
