A one‑night Homeless Count conducted in Greater Victoria on January 15, 2005 produced the region’s first comprehensive profile of local homelessness, pairing a midnight‑to‑6 a.m. street enumeration with a structured survey of 175 participants to describe demographics, shelter access, health, mental health, and substance use patterns. The survey’s key signals were stark: most participants were men; the average age hovered in the mid‑30s; time without stable housing commonly stretched past a year; many had lived in Victoria for years; roughly half did not receive income assistance; health problems and barriers to follow‑up care were common; up to 40% reported prior psychiatric diagnoses; and street‑drug use correlated with mental health concerns. Gender, age, and cultural identity shaped experiences in distinct ways, with women reporting more short‑term homelessness and abuse, men reporting more chronic homelessness and addiction or eviction, and First Nations participants more likely to have shelter on the survey night despite similar underlying housing instability. Grounded in today’s understanding of health equity, the findings also intersect with the “hunger–obesity paradox,” whereby food insecurity and poverty can coexist with overweight and obesity because low‑cost, energy‑dense foods and stress physiology promote fat storage, complicating weight and chronic‑disease risks for people experiencing homelessness. Recent studies show obesity rates among homeless adults can rival the general population, and short, practical shelter‑based interventions have improved activity and diet quality, underscoring the need to integrate nutrition and weight‑management supports alongside housing, mental health, and substance‑use services.
Introduction
In 2004, Greater Victoria municipalities proclaimed January 15 “Homeless Day,” setting the stage for a coordinated count and survey to turn community concern into actionable data about who was homeless, why, and what supports were most needed. On January 15, 2005—during a bitter cold snap—over 150 trained volunteers covered 43 mapped routes across three municipalities, finding 168 people sleeping outdoors in subzero temperatures and another 500 people, including parents with children, in shelters or motels, yielding an estimated 700 people experiencing absolute homelessness that night. Volunteers encouraged participation in a structured survey capturing demographics, health, mental health, substance use, time in Victoria, and reasons for homelessness, with 175 people completing at least part of the questionnaire—an unusually high participation rate for a hard‑to‑reach population. Today’s health equity lens highlights that homelessness and nutrition are tightly linked: poverty constrains food choices to cheaper, calorie‑dense, nutrient‑poor options; stress, disrupted sleep, and inconsistent food access can drive weight gain; and obesity has become common in low‑income and homeless groups, reframing health priorities beyond underweight alone.
Methodology
The project combined a rough nighttime count with a standardized, paper‑and‑pencil survey, which was coded with a detailed manual to ensure consistent, shareable, machine‑readable data, followed by descriptive and inferential analysis using chi‑square tests to explore patterns by gender, age, culture, and housing chronicity. Data quality procedures addressed ambiguous responses and outliers, while the analysis acknowledged design constraints typical of community case studies—no pre‑survey baseline, no control group, and a large number of statistical tests on a modest sample. The report transparently discusses limitations, including non‑random participation due to informed consent, broad categorization to stabilize sparse cells, and the inability to disaggregate “street drugs” by type or frequency, all of which guide cautious interpretation and future data‑collection improvements.
Who were the participants?
Of 220 potential respondents, 175 (nearly 80%) provided at least partial data, with more than 60% identifying as male and a substantial share identifying as First Nations, particularly among women. The average participant was roughly 33–34 years old, and the age range spanned youth to older adults, demonstrating that homelessness affected people across the life course, not just the very young. These demographics align with broader evidence that poverty and food insecurity drive complex nutrition risks—including both undernutrition and obesity—requiring tailored health and nutrition supports across age and gender.
Shelter on the survey night
About 84% reported having no shelter for the survey night, reinforcing the acuteness of immediate shelter needs during the winter count. Length of homelessness did not reliably predict having shelter that evening, which remained uncommon across subgroups due to tight capacity and access barriers. This disconnect between homelessness duration and nightly shelter access underscores the need for more flexible, low‑barrier emergency and transitional options that can also connect people to health, nutrition, and weight‑management supports.
Reasons for homelessness
Participants named multiple, sometimes compounding reasons: abuse, addiction, family conflict or breakdown, eviction, ineligibility for income assistance, and inability to find a place were among the most frequent drivers, with clear gender splits—women more often citing abuse and eviction, men more often citing addiction, eviction, and benefit ineligibility. The questionnaire mixed causal and consequential factors—e.g., “can’t find a place” reflects tight supply and screening barriers as much as personal history—so the report calls for sharper future categorizations to disentangle pathways and outcomes. These same pathways shape health behaviors and dietary patterns, which in turn influence weight trajectories under chronic stress, limited choice, and unstable routines.
How long without a home?
On average, people reported 1 year and 8 months without stable housing, with wide variation from days to decades, reflecting both acute crises and entrenched chronicity. Many had been sleeping outside for months or more, and a notable minority had been homeless for over five years, flagging a cohort that needs long‑term housing, clinical, and nutritional support. Time without housing did not meaningfully change the likelihood of reporting health problems overall, but it compounded practical barriers to continuity of care and healthy daily routines that support weight maintenance.
Income and assistance
Roughly half reported no income supplements, and receipt of assistance did not differ much by chronicity, underscoring economic precarity even among those with long histories of homelessness. Associations between assistance receipt and street‑drug use were not statistically significant, and overall, benefits did not reliably translate into stable housing or care access in this sample. Low, unstable income is a recognized driver of food insecurity, which pushes diets toward cheaper, energy‑dense foods that can increase obesity risk even amid hunger, complicating weight‑management goals.
Roots and residency
Homelessness in Victoria appeared largely “home‑grown,” with an average of over nine years’ residency and many reporting more than a decade in the region. Time lived in Victoria was not significantly related to homelessness duration, health problems, or substance use, indicating that local drivers and barriers, rather than migration, were central. Interestingly, those newer to Victoria reported better follow‑up access for medical issues, hinting at uneven system navigation or eligibility factors that deserve attention in service design.
Age patterns
Homelessness cut across all age bands, but younger adults were more likely to report street‑drug use, while older adults more often reported longer homelessness durations. Alcohol use did not vary meaningfully by age, nor did self‑reported mental health diagnoses, though acute versus chronic housing trajectories did show age‑linked differences. Across ages, the combination of stress biology, disrupted sleep, and low‑cost food environments can promote weight gain, highlighting why weight‑supportive services should be age‑inclusive.
Gender dynamics
Men were more likely to report chronic homelessness and street‑drug use, while women were more likely to report shorter homelessness spells and histories of abuse, mapping to distinct prevention and stabilization needs. Women more frequently reported receiving income assistance, but both men and women faced high rates of alcohol use and self‑reported drug‑related problems affecting personal life. Gender‑responsive programming should integrate trauma‑informed care, safer‑use supports, and nutrition and physical‑activity options that are accessible, dignified, and safe for women, men, and gender‑diverse people.
Cultural identity
A majority identified as Caucasian or First Nations, and First Nations participants were more likely to have shelter on the survey night despite similar underlying housing instability patterns. Rates of reported health problems, alcohol use, and street‑drug use did not differ significantly by cultural identity in this sample, though the report emphasizes the need to respect distinct community contexts and histories. Given documented inequities in chronic‑disease risk, nutrition, and access to care for Indigenous peoples, culturally safe nutrition and weight‑support services should be embedded in housing and health programs.
Health problems and care access
Over half reported health problems, and many struggled with follow‑up, relying on community clinics, walk‑ins, and emergency departments for episodic care. Street‑drug use was significantly related to the presence of health problems and to reporting that drug use had caused personal difficulties, underscoring the need to integrate harm reduction with primary care. Self‑reported psychiatric diagnoses were roughly twice as common among those with health problems, reinforcing the overlap among medical, mental health, and substance‑use needs in homelessness.
Mental health
Up to 40% reported having been told they had a mental illness, and street‑drug use was significantly associated with reporting psychiatric diagnoses. These relationships held across acute and chronic homelessness, highlighting that mental health care must be accessible regardless of where someone is on their housing journey. Integrated, low‑barrier models that combine mental health, harm reduction, and nutrition support can better address the interlocking factors that influence daily function and weight.
Alcohol and street drugs
Alcohol use was common across groups and strongly related to reporting drug‑related problems in personal life, while street‑drug use frequently co‑occurred with alcohol use. Street‑drug use was more common among those who had slept outside for six months or longer and was tied to reporting addiction as a driver of homelessness, whereas non‑users more often cited housing market barriers and benefit ineligibility. Because substance use, stress, and irregular meals can destabilize metabolism and appetite, weight‑management supports must work alongside safer‑use services and stabilization.
Finding shelter and the housing/shelter link
Having shelter on the count night was rare and not well predicted by homelessness duration, while longer time without housing was, unsurprisingly, linked to longer spans without nightly shelter. The survey’s concordant self‑reports across similar items support the reliability of coding and the face validity of the instruments for this community study. In practice, increasing flexible shelter capacity and prioritizing housing with supports remain central to improving not only stability but also nutrition and the feasibility of healthy weight routines.
Nutrition, obesity, and weight management
Contrary to stereotypes, contemporary research shows that obesity is common among homeless adults, with large cohorts finding roughly one‑third meeting obesity criteria and very few underweight, reflecting the “new malnutrition” of poverty. The hunger–obesity paradox explains how food insecurity pushes people toward cheaper, energy‑dense foods and irregular eating patterns that promote fat storage under stress and sleep debt, even when overall nutrition is poor. Recent meta‑analyses and national reviews reinforce that food insecurity can drive obesity, particularly among women, and that low‑income contexts heighten risk through environmental and economic constraints on healthy choices. In Canada, obesity remains a major public‑health concern, and any homelessness response that aims to reduce chronic disease must consider how housing, income, and services shape diet and physical activity opportunities. Importantly, early studies of shelter‑based interventions show feasibility: pedometer‑guided walking goals, simple tailored education, and fruit/vegetable provision have increased moderate‑to‑vigorous activity and improved perceived diet quality over four weeks. Clinic models embedded in shelters have demonstrated identification and treatment of metabolic risks with signs of improvement in some indicators over repeat visits, supporting pragmatic primary‑care approaches. At the same time, Housing First trials in Canada found no significant change in BMI or waist circumference over 24 months without specific nutrition/physical‑activity components, signaling that housing alone does not automatically improve weight. Taken together, the evidence suggests that weight interventions for people experiencing homelessness should be low‑barrier, non‑stigmatizing, integrated with housing and mental health care, and focused on realistic, incremental gains in diet quality and movement.
Practical, safe approaches to weight
Weight and health goals must start with safety, stability, and access: regular meals, safer sleep, and consistent clinic touchpoints make healthier choices doable and sustainable. Within shelters and day programs, small changes matter—offering fruit/vegetable snacks, high‑fiber staples, and water; providing pedometers or step challenges; and cueing short bouts of activity during the day. For people living outdoors or in motels, realistic strategies include choosing lower‑sugar drinks when possible, prioritizing protein and fiber when available at food banks, and building short walks into daily routes, without pressuring unsafe caloric restriction. Programs should avoid shaming, screen for eating disorders, protect against unhealthy weight‑loss attempts that risk malnutrition, and tie weight discussions to broader goals like energy, mobility, and disease prevention. Finally, weight‑support work is most effective when paired with trauma‑informed care, harm reduction, and culturally safe services, especially for women and Indigenous community members who face distinct risks and barriers.
Limitations and future directions
As a single‑case community study without a control group or pre‑survey baseline, the 2005 survey’s statistics should be interpreted with care, especially where small subgroup counts and many chi‑square tests can inflate false positives. Several items grouped causal and consequential factors (e.g., “can’t find a place”), “street drugs” were not disaggregated by type, and some variables were coarsened to stabilize sparse data, all of which argue for refined tools in future counts. Even so, the sample size, high participation, and convergent internal checks make this a robust local snapshot—and, paired with modern evidence on food insecurity and obesity, a practical foundation for integrated housing, health, and weight‑support planning.
Conclusion
The 2005 Greater Victoria Homeless Count captured a community in crisis, documenting long spells without housing, high rates of health and mental‑health concerns, gendered pathways into homelessness, and substantial barriers to care and nightly shelter. Today’s evidence adds a crucial layer: food insecurity and poverty can drive obesity and metabolic risk alongside hunger, meaning that effective responses must integrate housing and income with accessible, non‑stigmatizing nutrition and physical‑activity supports. Real progress hinges on combining low‑barrier shelter and housing with harm reduction, mental‑health care, and practical weight‑support strategies that meet people where they are and make the healthy choice the easy choice.