Where are all the Old People?

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Living abroad, certain differences between your home country (or wherever you’ve just moved from) and the country you have moved to are startling.  They are eye-popping and jaw-dropping, immediately leaping out at you in the first days and weeks.  Other differences are more subtle and take far longer to register.

I slowly noticed that one of the differences between South Africa and everywhere else I’ve ever lived is that you rarely see old people in public spaces.  I don’t mean old-ER people, like the glam grannies I see hanging out at play areas or in coffee shops with their grandchildren while mum and dad are still at work.  Neither do I mean the sprightly pensioners who eagerly help out with after school activities.  I mean the truly elderly, the ancient, the frailest citizens.

South Africa, I really hope you don’t mind me asking this question.  It has been simmering away and niggling at me for months, it is very much an observation and absolutely not a criticism.  South Africa, where are your wrinkled and your wise?

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