FUSHENG, China – The daughter-in-law smashes the cockroach under her foot and rolls open the rusted metal doors to the garage. Light spills onto a small figure huddled on a straw mattress in a dank room. A curious face peers out.
The face is the most infamous in this village tucked away in the lush green mountains of southwest China. It’s the face of Kuang Shiying’s 94-year-old mother-in-law – better known as the little old lady who sued her own children for not taking care of her.
The drama that is playing out inside this ramshackle house reflects a wider and increasingly urgent dilemma. The world’s population is aging fast because of longer life spans and lower birth rates, and there will soon be more old people than young for the first time in history. This demographic turnabout has left families and governments struggling to decide: Who is responsible for the care of the elderly?
A handful of countries, such as India, France and Ukraine, require adult children to financially support their parents, mandating what was once a cultural given. Similar laws are in place in 29 U.S. states, Puerto Rico and most of Canada, though they are little known and rarely enforced because government funds help support the old. In Singapore, parents can sue their adult children for an allowance; those who fail to comply can face six months in jail.
In China, where family loyalty is a cornerstone of society and government aid is scarce, more than 1,000 parents have already sued their children for financial support over the last 15 years. But in December, the government went further, and amended its elder-care law to require that children also support their parents emotionally. Children who don’t visit their parents can be taken to court – by mom and dad.
The law pits the expectations of society against the complexities of family and puts courts in the position of regulating the relationship between parent and child.
Which then begs the question: How do you legislate love?
Zhang Zefang hardly looks like the vindictive matriarch many assume she must be. A tiny woman with blotchy skin, she stares at visitors through half-blinded eyes.
She wants you to know this: She never wanted to take her children to court.
“I never thought about whether my kids would take care of me when I was old,” she says. “I just focused on taking care of them.”
China is projected to have 636 million people older than 50 – nearly 49 percent of the population – by 2050, up from 25 percent of the population in 2010, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. So who will care for them?
Across the world, rapidly increasing life spans have left many adults scrambling to look after their parents, their children and themselves.
And in China, one-child urban policies over three decades mean there are even fewer working youngsters to support their elders.
Meanwhile, social and economic changes have chipped away at traditional family values. A lack of jobs means rural youths must leave their parents to find work in distant cities. And even children who can afford nursing homes fear sending their parents away will mark them as “unfilial,” says sociologist Jenny Zhan, who has studied the impact of China’s changing demographics on family relations.
The result is an emotional and generational tug-of-war.
China is going grey faster than it is growing rich, and state support for the elderly is not keeping pace.
Even in cities, where pensions are comparatively generous, elders say it’s a game of dominoes; if one family member falls, they all do.
In rural areas, it’s even worse. A new pension scheme for rural seniors does not cover everyone, and monthly payments are meager.
Health care is also inadequate, and a serious illness can bankrupt a family. Although a recent expansion of the medical system now covers most Chinese, reimbursement rates remain low and out-of-pocket costs high. Many rural families cannot afford the hospitals’ huge up-front deposits.
Where the government falls short, the kids are left to solve the problems – except that they often can’t, and sometimes won’t.
far away.
In the end, the children asked their mother, “What should we do?”
She countered: “If none of you want to take care of me, what should I do?”
No one had an answer. So they went searching for one at the village court.
In December, after persistent reports of abuse, China amended its elder-care law to require that adult children regularly visit and emotionally support their parents. The amendment, which took effect in July, also requires employers to give workers time off to visit their parents, though even proponents say that may be hard to enforce.
As the court officials explained the options to Zhang, she sat silently.
Finally, they offered a solution: Zhang could sue her children. Then the court could force them all to care for her equally.
She didn’t even know what “sue” meant. But what other choice did she have?
Suddenly, everyone in the village knew her story and authorities began examining her claims of abuse. A village official, Zhang (no relation), says they aren’t sure who to believe. In any event, she says, the children are “probably not beating her now.”
The locals mostly consider the children neglectful and are shocked they aired their private battle in court, says Zhang, who only gave her last name, as is customary among Chinese government workers.
“Not being filial,” she says, “is certainly not right.”
The settlement was swift: The court ordered the children to take care of their mother for four months of the year, and Yinxi to pay her $10 per month. The children must split Zhang’s medical bills.
