In May 2024, a woman named Belarmina was evicted from her home in Puebla at the age of 103. The fact that the eviction was initiated by her own son seemed to strip the event of any nuance; news headlines quickly turned it into a parable of moral failure. Public outrage followed, as did calls for stronger protections for older adults. Yet beneath this singular story lies a more complex reckoning with what it means to age—and who is responsible for those who do so without support.
Mexico’s official policies toward elder care appear admirable on paper. The 2002 Law on the Rights of Older Persons affirms dignity, protection, and access to services. But as with many well-intentioned frameworks in the region, implementation varies widely across states. The law cannot dictate how families treat each other, nor can it reverse shifting cultural and economic dynamics that have quietly undermined traditional systems of support.
Historically, family was not merely a social construct but an informal institution—especially when it came to caring for ageing members. Shared homes and multigenerational households once embodied a model where elders were seen not only as dependents but also as repositories of wisdom and continuity. That ideal now competes with new realities: urban migration has left many elderly people physically isolated; rising costs of living strain intergenerational households; life expectancy outpaces pension coverage; and younger adults face precarious employment themselves.
Family remains central to elder care—but increasingly proves unequal to the demands posed by longer lives and changing norms.
Indeed, although family remains the primary source of support for older adults in Mexico, it is increasingly unreliable as an infrastructure for care. According to national statistics agency INEGI, over 20% of older Mexicans report experiencing some form of abuse or neglect—numbers that suggest Belarmina’s case is not an anomaly but part of a broader pattern.
Yet generalising from one incident carries its own risks. Some argue that dramatic stories like this obscure more mundane truths about families doing their best under pressure. Others warn that legal intervention in domestic matters may be clumsy or even counterproductive if not paired with better institutional options—from mental healthcare to affordable housing and community-based eldercare.
Still, the symbolism endures: a centenarian forced onto the street by her own child confronts society with uncomfortable questions about dignity and dependence. The reaction oscillates between horror at filial betrayal and helplessness about what could be done differently—a sign perhaps that cultural narratives around ageing have not kept pace with demographic shifts.
Mexico’s population over 60 is expected to double by 2050, reaching nearly 33 million people. Without structural reforms—or a renewed ethic of collective responsibility—cases like Belarmina’s may become less shocking simply because they are no longer rare. Property disputes and inheritance conflicts will test existing laws; but more broadly, they will test whether Mexican society still sees its elders as integral or inconvenient.
