Living a life without having a life

If Malaysians have to keep working well into their sixties and beyond because the cost of living is too high, what kind of quality of life can we look forward to?

COMMENT

On a recent trip back to my old neighbourhood a few days ago, I bumped into an old friend, Aunty Renu. She was having tea and tosai with her children, so I joined them – we both had a lot of catching up to do.

Aunty Renu is a single mother who has worked almost all her life to raise her children. Being the sole breadwinner and a pillar of strength for her family, she has gone through quite a lot in life. But what a remarkable woman my Aunty Renu is, for she is solid proof that anyone with a strong sense of perseverance can live an independent life confidently.

I remember the last time we met, Aunty Renu told me she intended to resign as an administrative officer. Having almost fainted a few times at work and at home, she claimed the stress of her job had been affecting her health badly. With all her children working, and the burden to manage a household being lighter, she decided the best thing she could do was focus on her well-being. That was some five years ago.

As I sipped my coffee, I asked 63-year old Aunty Renu how things were, now that she wasn’t working anymore. Her reply surprised me.

“I am still working, Fa.”

“But weren’t you planning to retire a few years ago?” I asked.

“I tried but I can’t afford to.”

“I don’t understand. You were falling sick often because of the stress at work…”

“Things haven’t been the same, Fa. Everything is way more expensive nowadays. I cannot burden my children as they already have their hands full building their own lives.”

“But how about your health?” I asked, worried.

“I am managing well. I am on medication and I follow a strict diet. Don’t worry about me, now tell me about you…” Aunty Renu diverted the conversation like she always did.

I felt sad for Aunty Renu. When one has to enslave themselves to a job which is causing their health to deteriorate because the money they earn is crucial for their survival, we know something is not right in the system.

I observed Aunty Renu up close and noticed the physical changes in her. She is now much thinner than she ever was. Despite her purple hair, big beautiful brown eyes and the beauty mark by the side of her mouth, everything else about her looked different. She isn’t as bubbly as she once was.

“I am moving out of Danau Desa, Fa,” Aunty Renu said, breaking the silence as we watched her children walk home.

“Where are you going?” I asked, concerned.

“I found a cheaper apartment in Sri Sentosa. We have to start cutting down expenses, Fa. The future doesn’t look good.”

I nodded quietly. In my mind, I was still trying to absorb the fact that a 63-year-old woman who has devoted her entire life to the future of her children, now has to continue worrying about her own future. I can’t lie, my heart ached at the very thought of it.

“We are both older, mature women, Fa. At our age, I think the last thing we want is for someone else to take care of our needs. We are both independent single mothers, who have struggled for years to give our children the best in life – why do we have to end up being one of their liabilities?”

Aunty Renu’s question affected me deeply.

Walking back to my car after our brief chat, I imagined how much tougher it might be for me in the future. I mean in twenty years’ time, I would be the same age as Aunty Renu – would I too be forced to continue working so I can be financially self-sufficient and not burden my children who would by then be working on building their own lives?

No, I can’t imagine myself still in the rat race at 63.

I found myself taking a deep breath, hoping things would change by then.

But what if it didn’t?

What if things got even worse?

Sigh.

Fa Abdul is an FMT columnist.