13 Feb 2009 |
|
You find them everywhere you turn. They are night guards, street guards and commercial bus drivers. They do some of the lowest jobs you can think of. And I am not talking about some energetic youths who have a whole life ahead of them; I am talking about old men on the wrong side of 60 or sometimes in their 70s.
A time there was when men worked and retired to their villages or some quiet places to enjoy the remaining years of their lives with their grandchildren or great grandchildren. But nowadays, it seems a good number of them work until there is no more breath left in their nostrils. Women, of course, are not exempted. And it makes me very, very sad. There is one of them in the compound right next to mine. I learnt he was my late landlord’s driver in his hay days. I do not know how long he worked for my landlord, but all my landlord’s children, some of whom are in their 60s, hold him in high esteem. Yet, as an old man in his late 60s or early 70s, he is more or less a tramp. He sleeps out there in the open: in buses on the street, whenever one is temporarily abandoned, or in compounds with fenced walls, whenever a kind landlord allows him to pitch his tent there. Of course, he knows everybody in the neighbourhood. I do not know how many children he has, but he has one of them (probably in his early twenties) with him – living the kind of life his father is living. And anybody in the neighbourhood whose toilet is blocked or whose gutter is not flowing calls him to do something about it for a fee. And when anybody’s car has a problem, he is almost always there to provide a temporary solution.
I remember the fish seller. She used to bring fish for my wife to buy. Obviously in her 70s, I often wondered why a woman her age should be carrying anything on her head and walking the streets of Lagos. My wife and I were dumbfounded the day we discovered that she was not even selling for herself; she was selling for a much younger woman on commission basis. And her health was failing seriously. Of the six or so security men manning the street gates to my children’s school in an estate in Lagos, three of them can barely stand up to open the gates. Of the four manning the street gate to my office, the youngest should be in his early 60s. Of the six manning our office gate, two are so old that one is sometimes tempted to do them a favour by pushing for their discharge. The problem is that they are not working for the fun of it; they are still struggling to make ends meet even in their old age. That is why those who employ them often feel they are doing them a favour. And I hear that they are more trustworthy, especially in sensitive jobs like security. The truth is, most of these people are not lazy. Otherwise, they would not be looking for something to do in the twilight of their lives. Some of them have worked in other places and have retired. Those who are on pension cannot survive on the little they get; that is, if it comes at all. And really, how many of them worked in places where they would be entitled to any pension after their work years? I know someone will say that one of the reasons some of them still work even in old age is because it helps them to keep fit. As much as that is true in a few cases, you will discover that if they had any choice, they would not be doing or accepting jobs that put their lives at risk. There are a thousand and one ways to keep fit without endangering one’s life. A 70-year-old security man? What kind of thief is he going to catch? Add that to the risk of the effect of different weather conditions on his health. For those who are night guards, do they sleep or actually ‘watch’ at night? If they sleep (which they ought not to), is it on cosy beds? I know a few elderly people who are having fun in their twilight years by visiting all the beautiful places in the world. I also know that not everyone has the privilege of doing that in old-age by virtue of their financial standing. This is why I feel that there is a need to take care of the elderly members of our society, whether or not they can on their own live well when they are advanced in years. If my father was still alive, I cannot imagine me allowing him to be a night guard at 70. Part of the problem is that some of these people have children who cannot even take care of themselves, much more their elderly parents. And what is the government doing to help? I have no idea. In a country where the government is not willing to do anything to ameliorate the sufferings of the people, it might be too much to ask those in power to begin to think seriously of a welfare package for the elderly. But there is actually no two-way to it: the government must stand up to its responsibility to the people, including the elderly members of the society. On my part, I have decided that although my wife and I cannot take care of all the indigent elderly people in Lagos, we can make a difference in the life of the one in my neighbourhood. Our plan is to rent him a decent accommodation and give him a monthly allowance. Unfortunately, we cannot afford to do all that right now. But we are doing whatever we can to make life at least a little easier for him. For all one cares, he may be gone before one is able to do for him everything one plans to do.
|
||||||||||||||||||
# 
Your Comments
Please make The Square an enjoyable experience for everyone by refraining from gratuitous ad-hominem contributions, defamatory comments and off-topic posting. Such posts will be removed.