How the Elderly Survive in Rural Africa Without a Pension

In many developed countries, growing old is supposed to come with comfort, care, and dignity. Governments provide pensions. Healthcare is subsidized. And seniors are supported through structured systems built for aging. But in many parts of rural Africa, old age is not a time of rest.
It is actually a time of survival.

Across the continent, countless elderly people (especially women) live without any kind of pension, insurance, or reliable family support. The assumption is often that “the family will take care of them.” But that assumption is slowly dying.

Why Most Elders in Africa Have No Pension

I think the root of the issue lies in how many African economies function. The truth is that most people work in the informal sector – in sectors like farming, street trading and physical labor. The vast majority of Africans working in the aforementioned informal sectors never contribute to a pension system or have any form of formal employment records.

Owing to this, when they grow old, they are essentially cut off from society’s safety net. They become invisible to the system.

Even those who had formal jobs may receive pension payments so small they’re barely enough to buy basic food. And in rural areas, the situation is even worse. In these places, access to government programs is extremely limited thereby leading to many elders having no support at all.

Most of them survive by doing the following:

• Farming small plots with aging bodies
• Depending on neighbors or church offerings
• Going without food for days
• Sleeping in poor conditions
• And hoping not to fall ill

A Personal Reflection: I’ve Seen This All My Life

Coming from Ghana myself, I’ve seen this reality all too often. I’ve walked into homes where elderly women sleep next to firewood, with plastic bags for pillows. I’ve seen proud old men trying to sell mangoes by the roadside just to afford medicine.

And it’s not just something I read about. Believe me when I say it’s something I’ve lived around. Growing up in Ghana, it was normal to see elders struggling to survive. At the time, it didn’t even seem shocking. It was just a normal part of life.

But after traveling across Europe and Asia, I realized how differently other societies treat their elderly. In places like Singapore, Germany, and Poland, I’ve seen systems built to protect the vulnerable. Monthly pensions, housing assistance, community centers, mobile clinics, and simple dignity.

The contrast hits hard

In Africa, especially in rural communities, survival in old age depends not on systems but rather on luck. The luck of having caring children. The luck of finding a good neighbor. Or the luck of strangers noticing you before it’s too late.

Family Support Is Fading Fast in Africa

African culture traditionally emphasizes respect for elders. We are taught to greet them with both hands, to lower our gaze, and to never ignore them. But sadly times are changing – they’re changing really, really fast!

With mass urban migration, rising poverty, and strained family relationships, many elders find themselves forgotten. Their children move to the cities and never return. Others are simply too overwhelmed by their own problems to care for anyone else. As one woman told me during filming in northern Ghana, “These days, even your own child can walk past you like they don’t know you.”

The Cost of Being Forgotten

To live without a pension in rural Africa is to live on the edge. In these places, even one small illness can lead to death. Furthermore, dignity is also something that is constantly being negotiated in these places. But what does this mean? It means the following:

• Eating once a day… if at all
• Choosing between soap and food
• Sleeping inches away from a makeshift toilet
• Praying for rain because the well is dry
• And hoping someone remembers you when the pain becomes unbearable

A Real Story: Zainab, 80 and Alone in Ghana

One powerful example of this crisis is Zainab, an 80-year-old woman I visited in a rural Ghanaian town and interviewed.

Not only does she have no children but also no family and certainly no pension. She sleeps on a mat beside a plastic bucket she uses as a toilet. Her kitchen, sleeping area, and bathroom all share one small room. She survives on roughly 200 cedis a month, which as of the time of writing this article is actually less than $15 USD.

Sometimes, a neighbor brings her water. Other times, she simply waits. During the course of my interview with her, she told me something I will never forget, “I’m still here… I’m still breathing.”

That quiet sentence stayed with me. You can read Zainab’s full story here.

What Can Be Done?

The solution isn’t easy. I won’t pretend it is. But I genuinely believe that it starts with some awareness. For example, by seeing people like Zainab, hearing their voices, and refusing to look away.

Governments across Africa must do more than talk. They need to take real, practical steps like the below:

• Expanding pension schemes to include informal workers because that’s the majority of our workforce
• Creating mobile health and outreach programs that reach people in remote communities
• Partnering with local chiefs, assembly members, and community groups to actively identify and support vulnerable elders

But then again this isn’t just a government issue. Communities must step up too. We say we respect our elders but I think respect means little if we leave them to sleep beside buckets and starve in silence. It’s time we revive those cultural values of care and protection… not just in our greetings, but in our actions.

And then there’s us. Those of us who are younger, stronger, and more aware. We have a very important responsibility. Even telling these stories is a form of care. Even sharing them matters. Because I believe aging in Africa or any part of the world should not feel like punishment. Aging should come with peace and certainly dignity.