Peaceful old age has almost become a dream

Ebru CELIK

Low pensions and social isolation make older people more vulnerable to poverty, and among older citizens, women are among the most vulnerable groups to poverty.

While those of early retirement age, who are forced to live on 16,881 lira, are forced to continue working, relatively older citizens are struggling to make ends meet with their salaries.

One of those who survive on the lowest monthly salary is 75-year-old Aunt Nejla, who lives in Istanbul. We visit Aunt Nejla's house one day and talk about how she gets by on her pension.

Aunt Nejla lives on the ground floor of an apartment building in Avcılar. She grows vegetables in her garden and spends part of her day in it. She has planted Jerusalem artichoke, kale, peppers and tomatoes here. She is drying bell peppers on the windowsill of her house. Grape leaves have grown over her garden. “My neighbors help me and I grow grape leaves, fill them and give them as gifts in bottles. I also dry the bell peppers and give them away. This is the best I can do,” she says.

We are greeted at home by Auntie Nejla's old armchairs and her medicines spread out on one of the armchairs. The moment we enter the house, she starts making tea for us, adding, "I can actually drink one pot of tea for two days."

After our tea is brewed, we sit at the table in the garden and start our conversation. Aunt Nejla has been living alone since her husband passed away 2 years ago. Saying that she has 2 children and grandchildren, Aunt Nejla explains that she was left alone after her husband passed away. "My daughter comes every 15 days, cleans me and leaves. I was happy when my husband was alive. Now, with my illnesses, I have been left alone by my children and the state, abandoned to die," she says.

When we asked about her illnesses, Aunt Nejla said that they were endless, “I just came back from the hospital. I was in the hospital for 2 months. Cholesterol, stroke, diabetes, asthma, blood pressure, vision impairment, COPD… My illnesses go like this. I survive with medication. I worry that one day I won’t have money to buy my medication. If I don’t have them, I will sleep on this couch and not wake up.” She said that she sometimes borrows her medication and pays for it in installments at the pharmacy.

THE ENTIRE MONTHLY PAYMENT GOES TO RENT

We ask Aunt Nejla, who is trying to make ends meet with her deceased husband’s pension, how she spends a month. Aunt Nejla says, “I get my salary from the post office and immediately put 10 thousand liras towards my rent. The remaining 4 thousand usually goes towards bills. For 1 thousand liras, I buy oil, pasta, and other foods that will last me a long time. Of course, I run out of food by the end of the month. My neighbors try to help me, thank God. Someone leaves me 100-200 liras when they pass by, and some bring me food. But even if I am hungry, I do not go to my children’s doorstep.”

AT THE AGE OF 75 THEY SAID 'GO AND DELETE THE STAIRS'

He is very angry about the monthly increase, “The government has increased my retirement pension by 2 thousand TL. I will not go out of hunger but of anger, I think I will go out of my heart. I am trying to get by like this. There are many people who are worse off than me. Let me tell you about my situation. My landlord wanted to increase my rent by 5 thousand TL. This means 15 thousand rent and almost 3 thousand bills. They openly left us elderly people to die. Where will I find this rent and pay it? How will I eat? I couldn’t eat anyway. I only have one fruit in my house, a watermelon, and my neighbor brought it. I went to the grocery store with 100 TL in my pocket just yesterday. I had run out of salt and detergent. Detergent was 65 TL, salt was 20 TL. I told the woman working, ‘Can you not take 5 TL from detergent?’ She said, ‘No.’ I gave my money and came back and now I have 15 TL. I can only buy a loaf of bread. Thank God the people at the bakery know it too "They give me bread for my living," he says.

We asked Aunt Nejla if she had ever applied for social assistance: "I went and applied. I will never go again. First to the district governor's office, then to the mukhtar's office, to the municipality... The woman working at the mukhtar's office said to me, 'You have children, aunty, why are you still coming here?' 'If your money is not enough, go and mop the stairs. Mopping three stairs a week would be enough for you.' What kind of rudeness is this... I am 75 years old, I cannot see, I cannot walk. They are literally telling me, 'Go and die.' I have given up hope now. I will not ask anyone for help. I have neighbors who care about me. I could not pay my bills while I was in the hospital. I have 3 months' worth of bills. I borrowed 5 thousand TL from my neighbor. I will pay 500-500 per month."

Aunt Nejla also remembers her late husband with longing: “After my husband died, I tell him about the state I fell into by looking at his photograph at night. I say, ‘Take me with you.’ I would rather be underground with my husband than live like this.”

Our conversation is constantly interrupted by neighbors dropping by to say hello. Aunt Nejla, who explains that she wanders the streets in the mornings collecting scrap metal to sell, says, “The things I find are not worth much. Sometimes scrap dealers come out and give more money. I try to make an effort somewhere.”

Aunt Nejla, who criticized the AKP government while telling her experiences, says, “Do they never think about what this person eats, how they can live? Don’t we have any desires? Don’t we ever have desires? If a neighbor brings meat or fruit from my crop, it passes through my throat. They throw away kilos of food every day. I am 75 years old. They raise the price by 2 thousand liras as if they are making fun of me. No food aid or money. Didn’t we work for this country?” She wants to be able to live humanely and to be able to buy a few varieties of fruit for her home when she wants.