Separated Through Necessity? Gendered Segregation Amoung The Aged And Homeless

GENDER-SEGREGATED HOMES for the elderly poor are usually justified on practical operational grounds such as privacy needs, safety and staffing, and sometimes in line with long-standing cultural norms (but not necessarily religious ones). Such homes are part of the infrastructure of elder care in Penang, which has already crossed the threshold into an ageing society.[1] Older adults are increasingly living longer, but sometimes have limited savings and weakening support networks. The potential implications are serious.

Between 2014 and 2016, the Social Welfare Department recorded 5,274 homeless individuals nationwide—3,532 men and 1,742 women—concentrated in Kuala Lumpur, Selangor and Penang. There were 952 homeless individuals in Penang alone: 701 men and 251 women, a ratio of roughly three to one. Post-pandemic data remain fragmented, but the same general pattern holds today. Men dominate the visible homeless population, and while women’s destitution tends to be less visible, it is no less acute. What are the challenges faced when homelessness, ageing and gender intersect? The experiences of two segregated homes prompt us to think about what it means to care for older men and women, and what is often overlooked in the process.

PUSAT JAGAAN VALLALAR
At Vallalar Home Care Centre, a home for elderly men in Batu Maung, segregation is described simply as a necessity. Its founder, Ravi Tandathabani, 60, has been running the home for over 11 years since his brother, a double amputee, was placed in his care. He began accepting others shortly afterwards, but only admits men. There are no female workers available to care for women, and furthermore, a mixed-gender setting demands managerial capacity that he does not have.
Named for Saint Vallalar Ramalingga Swamy and guided by his teachings, the home provides meals, clothing, medical care and funeral rites. Ravi, trained in homoeopathy and basic nursing, handled much of the care by himself until he recently hired four helpers. The home currently houses 29 men—20 Chinese and 9 Indian—at a monthly cost of RM15,000–17,000, funded entirely by donations. Moving forward, a new wing will be built next to its existing premises, to accommodate more residents in need.

Most residents arrived through referrals from hospitals and the police, as well as the general public. “They are elderly, unemployed and alone, and we take them in,” said Ravi. Some were also ill, homeless or abandoned. “I think society is less forgiving to men,” he continued. Elderly poor men are often seen as difficult rather than vulnerable, a perception that influences where they are sent and how care is organised. He has reported few disruptions, however, and most of these are related to health issues, punctuated by the occasional argument.