“One gun was at his head, the other at his chest.”

These words, spoken by an elder as she stepped off the combi on Friday morning, still echo in my mind. She was describing the ordeal of being hijacked—together with fellow elders and our driver—on their way to an Alzheimer’s awareness programme.

The shock of it all is hard to process. Just eleven days earlier, at the Age-Friendly Communities Summit ahead of the IFA Global Conference in Cape Town, a colleague spoke about the risks faced by care workers and communities in the Global South. Safety, security, and access to services are inextricably linked. Friday’s events painfully reinforced that reality.

As I reflect, three milestone lessons stand out:

1. The paralysis and the plan.
When the call came through, my first words were, “Was anyone hurt?” What followed was a cascade of action: recovery arrangements, press holding statement, insurance notified, tracker activated, trauma debriefing set in motion. The crisis demanded that we move quickly—proof that preparedness and trust in systems matter.

2. It takes a village.
In that moment, colleagues stepped into their roles seamlessly. Each played their part with calm efficiency, proving again that caring for older people is never the work of one—it is the work of many. Trust and collaboration are the bedrock of resilience.

3. The show must go on.
The elders arrived, visibly shaken, yet when the programme began, they sang. Gratitude poured out in melody and movement. One daughter spoke of her mother, dressed in her traditional beads, leading songs of thanks—mere hours after staring down five armed men. I stood in awe of their grace, their resilience, and their unyielding spirit.

And yet, questions remain. Have we become desensitised to violence? Do we accept crime as part of daily life, chalking up near-death experiences to inconvenience? Or is this ability to move on—so quickly, with gratitude—a survival mechanism born of deep, hidden trauma?

The answers are not simple. But what is clear is this: we must not allow fear or violence to erode the dignity, safety, and opportunities of older people.

A call to action
Let us recommit to building communities where elders can move safely, where care workers can serve without fear, and where gratitude flows from joy—not survival.

A pause for reflection
When next you see an elder sway to a song, smile with grace, or step forward in resilience, ask yourself: what have they survived to stand here today?

Seeds for contemplation

• What role can I play in making my community safer for older people?

• How can we strengthen collective action to protect those most vulnerable?

• Are we willing to confront the normalization of violence—or will we accept it as the “cost of living” in the Global South?

The trauma of Friday still lingers, but so too does the beauty of human resilience. May we honour both—not by moving on too quickly, but by moving forward with purpose.