It’s 10:30 a.m. and fifteen women are gathering at the Casa Bibi facilities in Madrid. They come from Cameroon, Nigeria, Mali, Gabon, Ivory Coast and Equatorial Guinea, among others. They all emigrated to reunite with their families or to seek refuge from the state’s helplessness in their countries. “We face loneliness, social and economic isolation and institutional helplessness. That is why it seems as if we do not exist, but we are there and there are many of us,” explains Alphonsine Kitumua Bangizila, a 63-year-old Congolese, psychologist and volunteer in this project association promoted by Karibu with the aim of helping older African migrants To provide support and accompaniment.
The atmosphere is full of joy because there is a yoga class this morning, like every Thursday. “We want to break the stigma that being older means being useless. We come to accompany each other, to learn Spanish, to do yoga, but also to share our knowledge,” says Mónica Olufunlayo (Nigeria, 64 years old), who has loved going out since her children and grandchildren grew up and meet her friends instead of staying cooped up at home.
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In mid-2020, the United Nations estimated that around 34 million people in the world were older migrants. Of this global figure, almost 26,000 foreigners over the age of 55 live in Spain, a number that Kitumua says continues to grow, although there is no current official data.
“I enjoy coming here. When my granddaughter goes to class or with her friends, I stay home alone and am filled with sadness. It’s like I can’t get out of these thoughts,” says Antonina, 70, originally from Equatorial Guinea, who prefers not to reveal her last name. For this woman, “years are just numbers.” Her main project now is raising her granddaughter and son with disabilities. Antonina has lived and worked in Spain for 23 years, but only five years are documented in official documents. “I couldn’t contribute enough to lead a decent life because, despite being an intern, I had no papers and therefore didn’t receive social security,” she laments. “After so many years, I can’t rest because I have to keep fighting to meet my needs and feed my family,” he complains.
Being an older migrant, Kitumua points out, means she has to suffer double discrimination. Firstly, because they are migrants and have to adapt to the language and culture and face administrative hurdles and racism – like all newcomers, regardless of age and gender. And secondly, because they are older women and are seeing their health deteriorating and the doors to the job market closing.
Agustine Tchouadjuen together with the other participants at a reading day of African stories at Casa Bibi in Madrid last April. Bald Olmo
“They lock them up in dormitories.”
For Oumo T. (Mali, 74 years old), the years in which he lived with his son in Sikasso, his hometown in the south of the country, are over. The increasing economic instability, insecurity and lack of medical care since 2012 forced them to leave the country four years ago. In Madrid she was met by a couple from the same city who helped her find medical help and a translator. “I felt good because I was accompanied, but shortly afterwards the man died and my compatriot returned to the country. I was alone and didn’t have the ability to communicate in Spanish because I had only spoken Bambara before [un idioma utilizado por cerca de 10 millones de personas en Malí]”, Explain. Now Oumo lives in a shelter run by the Karibou Association. “Although I live with other women, each lives their own life, some work, others speak a different language than me. Here I have no family, no work permit and sometimes feel very isolated,” she complains.
We have recognized the great challenges and situations of vulnerability faced by women, the elderly, migrants and Africans in Spain.
Belén Espiniella, anthropologist and coordinator of Casa Bibi
In the center, psychologist and volunteer Luntadila Kitumua at the African story reading workshop at Casa Bibi (Madrid) in April. Olmo Calvo
But Oumo’s restless spirit wins. She volunteers in several awareness projects against female genital mutilation and is also involved in a campaign to prevent loneliness in nursing homes in Spain. “I saw many elderly people who remained very alone even though they had children and grandchildren. They lock them up in dormitories. In Africa it is different, we older people are always surrounded by our family and the community never lets us down because our opinion is important,” he says. Oumo says his desire is to learn Spanish very well “to meet more people” and be more independent when moving around the city.
Lucrecia Montero (Guinea-Bissau, 67 years old) counts the days since her arrival in Spain. “I will be one year old in October. On the 12th,” he emphasizes. “My family cares about me and how I live. I tell them that I’m fine, that I have food and a place to sleep. I miss them a lot, but I don’t tell them because I don’t want them to worry,” he says, a loud scream running down his face. Montero is referring to the three children and five grandchildren he left behind in his hometown of Bissau. “I’ve been alone here since my nephew’s wife drove me out of her house. “He took me to Madrid to help treat my liver problem, but in less than two months they left me on the streets,” she recalls as she lifts up her blouse to reveal two large scars that appear in it Shape by drawing a cross across her stomach. She realized that she was alone in an unfamiliar country, with a different language and culture and, what was worse, “without the same energy” as when she was young.
Lucrecia Montero, 67, poses in front of the sarongs that were painted in African style by the Karibu Association’s Casa Bibi women’s group last April. Bald Olmo
Montero also lives at the Karibou Association Animal Shelter. She and Oumo were a kind of catalyst for the creation of Casa Bibi, which means grandmother in Swahili. “We have recognized the great challenges and situations of vulnerability faced by women, the elderly, migrants and Africans in Spain. This is unfortunate because these adjectives should actually be synonymous with strength and wisdom, but in a society that does not take them into account as part of the system, they risk being excluded,” explains Belén Espiniella, anthropologist and project coordinator.
The loss of the social and family status they had in their country of origin, the lack of protection and the lack of command of the language can be a cocktail that triggers emotional instability in these women. “They find themselves without their support network, without documents or economic stability. It’s not that they feel lonely just because their reality is turbulent. “The only way to prevent this situation from escalating is to give people the opportunity to regulate their legal situation upon arrival, thereby guaranteeing their right to migrate and access to services that protect their well-being and dignity ensure,” he concludes.
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