The World’s ‘Dirtiest’ Man Did Not Shower For Over 60 Years – His Reason Is Shocking

There are billions of people on the planet, and the majority of their lives are so unlike ours that it is difficult to imagine. This narrative is among such. It tells the story of a man who led a totally different life.

Continue reading to learn more.

Regardless of their nationality, the majority of individuals enjoy taking baths or showers.

The number of times a person should shower varies throughout persons, but the notion that one should do so on a frequent basis remains the same.

But Amou Haji had a different opinion. He made the decision to forgo having a shower for 67 years. Furthermore, the deceased Persian man stated that he did it for valid reasons.

He had not taken a bath in over 60 years and lived alone in Iran. Roadkill was his favorite diet, and he was rumored to have swallowed animal poo from a pipe.

He was said to have been born in 1928 and was from the Iranian town of Dez Gah. Since nobody knew his true name, he was referred to as “old man” or “Amou Haji” by the people.

There is a narrative about him that claims he lost his love and turned into a recluse.

Amou Haji, widely regarded as the ‘World’s Dirtiest Man,’ passed away in 2022 at the age of 94. He had not taken a shower or used soap in almost 60 years, and he lived in a shanty made of cinder blocks.

Curious (@fasc1nate) December 19, 2023

His house was on the outskirts of town and was rumored to be built of cinder blocks. His presence didn’t appear to bother anyone.

When he felt his beard and hair were growing too long, he set them on fire. His concern for “hygiene” was limited to that. He had the same gray complexion and hair.

He lived to be 94 years old and appeared to be in good health throughout his life, despite the fact that he didn’t always keep himself clean.

When it came to drinking water, the elderly man wasn’t terrified of it, despite what many others believed. It was reported that he drank up to five liters of water daily out of an unclean tin can.

He preferred to find food on the ground when it came to eating. Even though fresh food was offered to him by others, he would always prefer to find his own. He even declared that porcupines were his greatest animal and that he preferred roadkill. It was reported that he consumed roadkill flesh that, despite still being entire, appeared rotting or old.

He also used a pipe to vape animal excrement. He was rumored to enjoy smoking cigarettes as well, and he was once spotted puffing on multiples at once.

Despite having poor food and hygiene, he was reported to be in good health. In reality, he passed away at the age of 94, just a few months after neighbors persuaded him to take a bath.

Dr. Gholamreza Molavi of Tehran University of Medical Sciences’ School of Public Health examined the elderly man prior to his passing. They were surprised to learn that despite his lifestyle, he was in good health.

On the other hand, he contracted trichinosis, a parasitic infection transmitted by food. Given that he enjoyed consuming dead animals found by the side of the road, this was not shocking. Either way, it didn’t significantly impact his health.

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My Husband Came Home Holding a Crying Baby

When Anna’s husband walked through the door holding a crying baby, her world turned upside down. Years later, the child she raised as her own is faced with a life-altering choice.

The scent of garlic and onions filled the small kitchen as I stirred a pot of soup. It had been a long day, and I was trying to distract myself by perfecting dinner. The house felt too quiet, as it often did.

A woman tasting her dish | Source: Pexels

A woman tasting her dish | Source: Pexels

My husband, David, was late coming home again, but I wasn’t surprised. His work as a delivery driver sometimes ran long. I wiped my hands on a dish towel, glancing at the clock.

“Seven-thirty,” I muttered. “What else is new?”

The garage door rumbled open, and I felt a flicker of relief. David was finally home. But then I heard something strange. A baby crying.

A crying baby | Source: Pexels

A crying baby | Source: Pexels

I frowned, drying my hands quickly. We didn’t have kids. We tried countless times until we found out I couldn’t get pregnant.

“David?” I called out, walking toward the front door.

When I stepped into the hallway, I froze. There he was, standing in the open doorway, holding a baby bundled in a soft, gray blanket.

A man holding a baby | Source: Freepik

A man holding a baby | Source: Freepik

“Hi,” he said, his voice shaky.

“David…” My eyes darted to the tiny face peeking out from the blanket. “What is that?”

“It’s a baby,” he replied, as if I couldn’t hear the piercing cries filling the room.

“I can see that,” I snapped, taking a step closer. “But why are you holding a baby?”

A shocked blonde woman | Source: Freepik

A shocked blonde woman | Source: Freepik

“I found him,” David said softly, his eyes wide. “On our doorstep.”

I cut him off. “Wait. Someone left a baby on our doorstep? Like some kind of… I don’t know… a movie or something?”

“I’m serious, Anna,” he said. “There was no note, nothing. Just him.”

A man holding a baby | Source: Pexels

A man holding a baby | Source: Pexels

The baby whimpered, and David adjusted the blanket again. “He was so cold, Anna. I couldn’t leave him out there.”

“Let me see him.” My voice came out more forceful than I intended.

David hesitated but finally stepped closer. He peeled back the edge of the blanket, revealing a tiny hand. My breath caught in my throat.

A shocked woman holding a newborn baby | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman holding a newborn baby | Source: Midjourney

“Anna, are you okay?” David asked, watching my face.

I didn’t answer. My eyes were glued to the baby’s hand. A small, crescent-shaped birthmark rested near his thumb. My knees felt weak.

“Anna,” David repeated, more urgently. “What’s wrong?”

A close-up of a newborn baby's head | Source: Pexels

A close-up of a newborn baby’s head | Source: Pexels

“This can’t be,” I whispered.

Six months ago, my younger sister, Lily, had stormed out of my life. The fight was stupid, but the damage it caused wasn’t. She had called me judgmental; I had called her irresponsible. Neither of us had apologized.

Two women arguing | Source: Freepik

Two women arguing | Source: Freepik

When Lily left, she vanished completely. No calls. No messages. Nothing. I’d convinced myself she didn’t care, though I never stopped thinking about her.

But now, staring at that birthmark, the truth hit me like a wave. This baby wasn’t just any baby.

“He’s Lily’s,” I said.

A serious woman holding a baby | Source: Midjourney

A serious woman holding a baby | Source: Midjourney

David frowned. “What?”

“The birthmark,” I said, pointing to the tiny crescent shape. “Lily has the same one on her wrist. It runs in the family.”

He looked at the baby’s hand, then back at me. “You’re saying this baby is your nephew?”

I nodded, my heart pounding.

A side shot of a woman holding a baby | Source: Midjourney

A side shot of a woman holding a baby | Source: Midjourney

“But… I didn’t even know Lily was pregnant,” David said.

“Neither did I,” I whispered.

A mix of anger and sadness surged through me. “Why didn’t she tell me? Why would she leave her baby here?”

David looked as lost as I felt. “I don’t know, Anna. But what do we do now?”

A man holding a baby on his shoulder | Source: Pexels

A man holding a baby on his shoulder | Source: Pexels

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The baby’s soft whimpers filled the silence. I reached out and touched his tiny hand, feeling its warmth against my skin.

I shook my head. “We should call someone. The police, maybe. Or social services.”

David’s jaw tightened. “You really think they’ll take better care of him than us? He’s family, Anna.”

A serious man | Source: Pexels

A serious man | Source: Pexels

I blinked back tears, feeling torn in two. For years, I’d dreamed of holding a baby in my arms. But this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

The baby let out a soft cry, and David rocked him gently. “Look at him, Anna,” he said. “He’s just a baby. He didn’t ask for any of this.”

A close-up shot of a father with his baby | Source: Freepik

A close-up shot of a father with his baby | Source: Freepik

I took a deep breath, my mind racing. “If we do this… if we keep him… it’s not just for tonight, David. It’s for life.”

He nodded. “I know.”

I looked at the baby again, his tiny face scrunched up in sleep. My heart ached, torn between fear and something else—a small, fragile hope.

A woman holding a baby | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a baby | Source: Pexels

The years had flown by, but every moment with Ethan felt like a gift. At 13, he was tall for his age, with dark curls that always seemed unruly and a grin that could light up a room. He called me “Mom,” and David “Dad,” and I never got tired of hearing it.

Our home was filled with the sounds of his laughter, his endless questions, and the occasional thud of a basketball against the garage door. He was a good kid, full of heart.

A happy teenager | Source: Pexels

A happy teenager | Source: Pexels

“Ethan!” I called from the kitchen one afternoon. “Don’t forget your lunchbox. You left it on the counter again!”

“Got it, Mom!” he shouted back, running through the house.

David appeared behind me, sipping his coffee. “Thirteen years,” he said, shaking his head. “Feels like yesterday when we found him.”

A couple talking over breakfast | Source: Pexels

A couple talking over breakfast | Source: Pexels

I smiled. “He’s the best thing that ever happened to us.”

David leaned in to kiss my cheek, but before he could, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” Ethan hollered, already halfway to the door.

I wiped my hands on a towel, following him. When Ethan opened the door, I stopped in my tracks.

A shocked woman | Source: Freepik

A shocked woman | Source: Freepik

Lily stood there, dressed in an elegant coat, her heels clicking on the porch as she shifted her weight. Her diamond earrings sparkled, and her face—though older—was as striking as I remembered.

“Anna,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “I need to talk to you.”

A rich woman | Source: Pexels

A rich woman | Source: Pexels

We sat in the living room, the air thick with tension. Ethan hovered nearby, watching the woman who was his birth mother with cautious curiosity.

“Ethan,” I said gently, “why don’t you give us a moment?”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Okay, Mom,” he said, disappearing upstairs.

A teenage boy by the stairs | Source: Midjourney

A teenage boy by the stairs | Source: Midjourney

Lily’s eyes followed him, a mixture of longing and guilt flashing across her face.

“Why are you here, Lily?” I asked, my voice steady but cold.

She looked at me, her eyes filling with tears. “I made a mistake, Anna. A terrible mistake. I never should have left him. I wasn’t ready then, but I am now.”

A crying woman | Source: Pexels

A crying woman | Source: Pexels

I felt my chest tighten. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I want my son back,” she said, her voice breaking. “I can give him everything now. A big house, the best schools, opportunities you can’t even imagine. He deserves that.”

Before I could say anything, Ethan appeared, his gaze locked on Lily.

An angry teenage boy | Source: Freepik

An angry teenage boy | Source: Freepik

“You’re my birth mom, aren’t you?” he asked bluntly.

Lily blinked, startled by his question. “Yes,” she said slowly. “I am. I’ve come to take you home with me.”

Ethan didn’t flinch. “Home? This is my home.”

A woman talking to an angry teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to an angry teenage boy | Source: Midjourney

Her face softened, and she reached out as if to touch him. “I know this is sudden, but I can give you so much, Ethan. A better life. A bigger house, the best schools, anything you could want.”

Ethan took a step back, shaking his head. “You think I care about that? You don’t even know me.”

Lily’s hand dropped, her expression faltering. “Ethan, I—”

A close-up shot of a crying woman | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of a crying woman | Source: Pexels

“You don’t know my favorite food. You don’t know I’m terrible at spelling but great at math. You weren’t there when I broke my arm in third grade or when I got my first basketball trophy,” he said, his voice rising.

“Ethan,” I said softly, but he kept going.

A teenage boy signing a cross | Source: Freepik

A teenage boy signing a cross | Source: Freepik

“They were there,” he said, pointing at me and David. “They’ve been there every single day. You’re a stranger to me.”

Lily’s eyes glistened with tears. “I know I made mistakes, but I’m your mother, Ethan. That’s a bond that can’t be broken.”

He squared his shoulders, his voice firm. “Family isn’t about blood. It’s about love. And I already have a family. I’m not going anywhere.”

A boy with his arms crossed | Source: Midjourney

A boy with his arms crossed | Source: Midjourney

Lily’s shoulders sagged, the weight of his words sinking in. She turned to me, her expression a mixture of guilt and resignation.

“You’ve raised him well, Anna,” she said quietly. “I can see how much he loves you.”

I nodded, my voice steady but kind. “He’s happy, Lily. That’s all we’ve ever wanted for him.”

A serious woman | Source: Freepik

A serious woman | Source: Freepik

Lily gave Ethan one last, lingering look, then turned to leave. As the door closed behind her, Ethan let out a long breath.

“You okay?” I asked, pulling him into a hug.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice muffled against my shoulder. “I just… I don’t get how she could leave me like that.”

A woman hugging her son | Source: Midjourney

A woman hugging her son | Source: Midjourney

David joined us, placing a hand on Ethan’s back. “Sometimes people make mistakes they can’t undo. But you’ve got us, kiddo. Always.”

A week ago, God rewarded me with my own child. I found out that I was pregnant.

A happy woman a pregnancy test | Source: Pexels

A happy woman a pregnancy test | Source: Pexels

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided as “is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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