SO here’s the situation: Malaysia is getting older – and it’s not just your knees, but the whole country. According to statistics, we are sliding rapidly into an “ageing nation” status. By 2030, 15% of Malaysians will be aged 60 and above. That will be a lot of atuks, neneks, makciks and uncles trying to survive not just creaky joints, but also a system that is still acting like ageing is a personal inconvenience instead of a national priority.
Hello, what’s the plan?
You cannot just say “we respect our elders” and then abandon Auntie Salmah in a flat with no lift, and hope a nice neighbour will randomly bring her groceries.
Respect is not just poetic Instagram captions on “Hari Warga Emas”; it is also systems, support and showing up.
Let’s be real: Malaysians are amazing at ceramahs and slogans. But action? Sometimes slower than a 93-year-old climbing stairs with no railing. So here’s your mild lempang of the day: Malaysia, pull up your socks – not the ankle ones, wear the compression type if you must – as it is time to get serious!
Where are the protocols?
If an elderly person is living alone, there should be mandatory welfare checks – weekly, biweekly, heck, even AI-powered SMS check-ins. Something! Anything! We are talking about real people, not forgotten furniture.
Who checks if they have eaten today? Who knows if they slipped in the bathroom three days ago? Who is monitoring if Uncle Tan is slowly slipping into depression because his kids only text once a month – and only when they need ang pow?
It does not take a PhD in policy-making to figure out some basics. Other countries have elderly call-in hotlines, volunteer buddy systems and community health workers who drop by. But us? We are still arguing whether WiFi in kampungs is a luxury or a right.
Let’s introduce a national
elderly well-being register – a safe
and respectful system where vulnerable seniors living alone are visited or contacted regularly. Not in a “big brotherly” way but in a “hey, you okay tak, nak makan bubur or rendang today?” way.
And please, make it easy. No forms longer than Tolstoy’s War and Peace. No 14-chop approvals. If Makcik Ani can register her chicken rice order on Grab, she should be able to register for a welfare check-in.
Accessible housing
You think a 72-year-old with arthritis wants to climb three floors to get to her flat in PPR Dahlia B-2-4? Elevators rosak since Merdeka and no one bats an eye.
And don’t even get me started on bathroom design – slippery tiles, no railing, tiny space. It is like the architect wanted to audition old folks for Ninja Warrior.
What we need: age-friendly housing, functional lifts, ramps that are actually usable – not just decorative or at impossible 90° angles – and bathrooms where you can actually move without needing a stunt double.
Future-proof it. Design with ageing in
mind because, if you are lucky, you’ll be old one day too.
Healthcare that doesn’t cost a kidney
Free checkups are great. But you know what is better? Free follow-ups that don’t take seven months – or a secret handshake – to book.
You can offer all the RM1 clinic consultations you want but if Auntie Kamariah needs to wait until Hari Raya Haji 2026 for her next appointment, what is the point?
And medication stock-outs? Aiyo. One day it is available, next it is kosong. If we want our elders to live longer, maybe don’t make them play lottery with their life-saving pills.
Healthcare reform isn’t a sexy election slogan but it saves lives. Want to win votes from old folks? Make sure they don’t collapse halfway while queuing four hours for registration.
Actual community centres
Not just sad karaoke machines from 1998. We want vibrant and activity-filled spaces with
tai chi, board games, art therapy, free WiFi and an aunty gossip corner, fully funded and accessible.
And “community centre” does not mean one dusty hall with a broken fan where the only event is “bingo night” every leap year.
Provide classes – painting, cooking, even TikTok 101. Let nenek go viral for her rendang recipes. Let pakcik form a chess gang. Let them live, not just exist because seniors are not waiting to die quietly; they still have stories, talents, energy. They just need platforms.
Transport that does not treat them like a burden
Give them discounted Grab rides. Wheelchair-friendly buses that work. Not just “eh, got ramp but tak boleh buka, sorry-ah”.
And please train drivers, stop jerking the bus like you are auditioning for Fast and Furious. You’ve got neneks holding on for dear life with their Tesco shopping bag.
Mobility is dignity. If they can’t move, they can’t participate. If they can’t participate, society loses their wisdom, humour and unpaid babysitting services.
What about families?
Don’t think you are off the hook just because “eh, government should do something”. Yes,
the state must step up but so must you.
Don’t call your mother once a week just to ask where she kept your SPM certificate; visit her, bring her kuih. Ask how her heart is, not just whether the house is still under her name.
If you can’t be there every day, make sure someone is. Hire help, talk to neighbours or use technology. Love is responsibility, not lip service.
And please stop this nonsense of pretending old people cannot make decisions. Old does
not mean outdated. Just because Pakcik Dahlan uses a Nokia does not mean he cannot vote, manage his bank account or tell you off in four languages.
What we need is support, not babysitting. Respect, not condescension. Care, not coddling.
Bottom line
We are not ready – not yet – but we can be if
we stop acting like it is a future problem and start treating it like the urgent and present situation it is.
Ageing is not a disease; it is a guaranteed part of life. So, don’t wait until you are the one stranded in a hot flat with no meds and no company before screaming “why nobody help the old folks?”
Start now – build the systems, check on your elders and plan like you will live long enough
to benefit from the changes you demand – because makcik’s knees may be noisy but her message is loud and clear.
Sekian, with love, cili padi and one tight makcik slap for anyone still pretending this is someone else’s problem.
Azura Abas is the associate editor of theSun. Comments: letters@thesundaily.com
