Overlooked tsunami victims: the elderly

The Leeli sisters were opening their beachfront shop when the first wave hit. They ran looking for their kids. Grandmother was unintentionally left behind. She wasn't seen again.

That basic narrative about elderly family members lost or harmed is often repeated in Sri Lanka's hardest-hit tsunami areas - though it gets less notice than those detailing the plight of children.

In fact, as a fuller accounting of Dec. 26 takes place, it may be found that, proportionally, more seniors perished than did children, say Buddhist monks and volunteer groups at work along the coast. Early estimates put the number of elders killed in Sri Lanka at around 10,000, the same figure as for children.

As the affected seniors seek relief and shelter, they may in their own way be more vulnerable than children. Many report being newly alone, disoriented by the refugee camps, and deeply longing for home - and find it less easy to forget than do children, now often seen at play again.

These senior survivors especially need temporary shelters, bikes to get around, and direction on how they can be useful.

"Older people in disasters do get ignored. In the refugee camps no one wants to get close to them," says Tilak de Zoysa, a volunteer with HelpAge, a British-based aid group. "But we have found that older people are very useful in camps. They have experience and make real contributions when given the chance."

However enlightened such views may be, they are not generally the norm in post-disaster periods. In five camps visited by the Monitor, some seniors said they were uncomfortable with a lack of privacy and crowds of new people. Some missed family members who were in other camps. Many say they feel lost in an abyss of waiting. Those who lost sons or daughters say they often feel stricken or abandoned.

"We have heard more about children, but I suspect the elderly and children were equally affected," says Arvasi Patel, a UN refugee official in Sri Lanka.

Alois Singha, a fisherman for 60 years near Hikkaduwa, stands by himself at the Beautiful Temple refugee camp. His house by the sea is destroyed. But he walks the mile to the ocean every day and stays at the site for several hours. The walls are gone and water is unavailable, though, so he returns to camp in the evening. "I am doing nothing here," he says. "No one has told us whether we can have a tent at our home, or whether we can rebuild."

Usually, relief groups that serve the elderly approach older people directly to ensure they get the aid that is sometimes tossed into pushy crowds.

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