‘Invisible’ migration and bodies that expire: the reality of older migrants in Latin America

‘Invisible' migration and bodies that expire: the reality of older migrants in Latin America

An estimated one in five people will be over 60 by 2050, and “80 per cent of the older population will live in low-income countries. It is a migrant population that is ageing in poverty,” under fragile protection systems or with little state presence.

(AFP/Ronaldo Schemidt)

“I’m looking [for work] all the time and I’ve sent my CV, but when they see my age – and I’m active, a very active woman; I don’t have any aches or pains; I’m fine, I don’t have Alzheimer’s or anything like that; I do my bit – but I think that when they see my age, they rule me out,” laments 68-year-old Evelyn, a Venezuelan woman who came to Ecuador five years ago to join her two daughters.

Her story gives us an insight into the situation of many older migrants in Latin America, and other parts of the world, who find themselves trapped in social exclusion and neglected by the host states. Part of the problem lies in the way ageing is approached and integrated in societies of today. Is the idea being sown that ageing is a burden?

According to the Inter-American Convention on the Protection of the Human Rights of Older Persons adopted by the Organization of American States (OAS), the age at which someone can be classed as an ‘older person’ is 60 or over.

In Latin America, this population group will more than triple in size over the next 50 years, going from 57 million people in 2020 to around 200 million in 2070, according to data from the Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean (ECLAC).

“One of the things that needs to be highlighted is the role of the media in making older migrant populations visible,” says Marcela Bustamante, regional representative of the Colombia-based NGO HelpAge International, on the importance of documenting and disseminating information about older people so that they do not fall into a state of total invisibility, exacerbating the vulnerable situation in which they already find themselves. “That is the first message that needs to be relayed,” she says. Until now, coverage has been focused on the working age population and vulnerable groups such as women and minors.

One of the latest reports, A claim to dignity: Ageing on the move, by HelpAge International and the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR) in Latin America, assesses the situation of older people on the move and the impact on the exercise of their rights, which have been further undermined by the Covid-19 pandemic.

As Bustamante explains, the study reveals a “weakening of rights in terms of regularisation or access to documentation, information and work. And the pandemic has ended up undermining rights because [...] many of those who had some form of income either lost it or earnt less if they managed to keep their job.”

According to data collected by the United Nations Department of Economic and Social Affairs (UN DESA), internationally, the share of migrants aged over 65 is around 12 per cent, and Latin America is one of the fastest ageing regions.

In the Andean region, as reported by UNHCR and HelpAge International, the largest concentration of migrants in this age group are from Colombia and Venezuela, and flows from the latter have been particularly high due to the social and political crisis in the country.

Around five million Venezuelans have been displaced to other Latin American and Caribbean countries, according to figures from the Inter-Agency Coordination Platform for Refugees and Migrants from Venezuela, jointly led by the International Organization for Migration (IOM) and UNHCR. No specific record of the number of older people is kept. Colombia, Peru and Ecuador, which have historically been sender countries have now become receiving countries for people of Venezuelan nationality.

Discrimination in employment and the feminisation of older migration

“I left Venezuela with the hope of getting a formal job, but as a man of 67 already, my age works against me,” says Domingo Javier González Salas, who is earning a living as an Uber driver in Ecuador, helping his daughter by driving her to and from work and doing other private hire work to help support his family.

According to Article 18 of the Inter-American Convention on the Protection of the Human Rights of Older Persons, one of the rights crucial to older people is that of “decent work”, along with the right to “equal opportunity and treatment on the same terms as other workers, whatever their age”. In reality, however, informal work is often the only means of survival for this population group, and age is precisely one of the main causes for their social exclusion at all levels.

“Being in informal employment when the pandemic broke out meant that they were excluded from the subsidies that governments provided through social protection systems [...], leaving them without access to any help,” says Bustamante, who stresses that 79 per cent work in this sector, where they are exposed to “precarious employment and exploitation, long working hours and low incomes”.

The average retirement age in Latin America and the Caribbean is between 60 and 65, according to the International Labour Organization (ILO).

But, in one of the world’s most unequal regions, with a high level of labour informality, many older people are forced to continue working, for want of a decent pension. And their plight is worse still when compounded by other factors, such as migration.

“I’ve done everything, I’ve sold bread, I’ve cleaned houses, I’ve sold chicken; I don’t know how many things I’ve done to make ends meet,” says Evelyn, for whom activism as a migrant woman and her dedication to a community garden project provide her with an outlet and a way to stay active in her day-to-day life.

“Many of [the older women] come to join their families. As their families moved further south, crossing Ecuador and Peru and finally reaching Chile, they would follow behind. Many would come here alone, all on their own,” says Afro-Venezuelan activist and sociologist María Emilia Durán. “This made them all the more vulnerable.” She adds that there has also been a feminisation trend in the mobility of the older population.

“The number one option for the women I have been able to work with was street vending. Many of them were selling sweets or something at traffic lights or on public transport,” as it’s the simplest option, she continues.

The precariousness of the employment situation for older women, Durán explains, leaves them trapped in an insecure space and, for want of social protection, condemns them to their fate, with no choice but to expose themselves in many cases to labour or sexual exploitation in a bid to survive.

Then there is the issue of the care work, or unpaid work, that older women often do within their families for lack of other options. This invisible and undervalued work condemns them to impoverishment in their old age. Such is the plight of 62-year-old María Isabel, who helps with the household chores and the care of her grandchildren, although she has not lost hope of finding a job that would give her the financial independence for which she longs.

Following her husband’s death, confronted with the economic crisis and the sadness of not having her family close by, María Isabel had to leave her home in Venezuela and set out on the road to family reunification. “I came [to Bogotá] on my own. It wasn’t easy, but here we are,” she tells Equal Times.

“I’m taking on these tasks to help the family, but they’re not my responsibility, because I have already done my share with my children. But of course, I have to show empathy and help them out, just as they are helping me to be here,” says the graduate in public accounting.

“What I really want, as an older Venezuelan woman, is to be financially independent, because I still have all my senses and I feel capable, I have the mobility, I have the will and I have the energy; but I simply haven’t had the opportunity, not even to find a partner here!” she continues, smiling mischievously to herself.

Impact of the pandemic and the challenges still at hand

“It has been quite a hard time for older people. It was already difficult before the pandemic and it is even worse now,” says Durán, referring to how the pandemic has exposed the gaps in public policies, highlighting the problems faced by the older migrant population in terms of access to health services in Ecuador, a reality that also applies to other countries in the region. Among the shortfalls reported in the assessment conducted by HelpAge International and UNHCR were medical negligence in the treatment of other illnesses and huge gaps in mental health care.

“One of the things I was able to observe the most [working with the Venezuelan migrant population] were adult women with pre-existing illnesses. They had diabetes, high blood pressure; they needed constant medical attention but didn’t have access to it. Their right to sexual and reproductive health was also seriously affected,” says Durán, who underlines the loneliness that is part of these older people’s journey.

According to HelpAge International and UNHCR, the difficulties of having to work as informal street vendors or being stuck at home, dependent on their children or looking after their grandchildren, leads to “emotional states, such as melancholy, anxiety, depression, fatigue and difficulties in adapting and integrating.”

“Capitalism doesn’t care about older people and these neoliberal governments care even less. There is a consciousness of the productive subject only if you are able to produce. That’s why the issue of raising the retirement age is being discussed now,” without regard for a dignified old age and a dignified death, says Durán.

The world population is ageing much faster than we think, warns the World Health Organization (WHO), and measures to adapt to realities of the future are lacking.

An estimated one in five people will be over 60 by 2050, and “80 per cent of the older population will live in low-income countries. It is a migrant population that is ageing in poverty,” under fragile protection systems or with little state presence, stresses Bustamante.

“We ask ourselves, what about the populations that are ageing – which they all are – that are migrating and are not covered by protection systems? What is old age going to be like for them? How is the migrant population of working age going to be integrated into protection systems? These are questions that our governments need to ask themselves,” adds Bustamante. Her organisation is one of many voices calling for more inclusive societies that are free of all myths and stereotypes about old age.

“Older people don’t want to be a burden on anyone. I have my groups and all the people in my groups tell me the same thing – and I feel the same way, I also want to have an income because when you have an income you don’t feel useless, and we have the knowledge and experience to contribute in many ways,” concludes Evelyn.

This article has been translated from Spanish by Louise Durkin