Lina* is nearing 90. Widowed in recent years, she lives in the same house that she and her husband purchased when they emigrated from Europe in the mid 1970s.

The property is in a quiet suburb in a small city. Lina keeps the house in good order but, built in the 70s, it requires constant attention to keep it sound, watertight and warm. The bedrooms are on the upper levels of the house, accessed by a perilous staircase. The rise between treads is deep and the steps are narrow. It is not a house for an older person. But it is her home.

Lina has no family. She and her husband made friends through their work and outside interests when they were younger and active. But none of the friends that remain are close by. Lina relies on  neighbours for her weekly grocery shop. She pays for most other help. In addition to NZ Super, Lina receives a pension from the country of her birth. This pension is the difference between her managing and not. However, it is an ongoing bureaucratic nightmare navigating the requirements of the pension providers of both countries.

Grappling with this is made harder by the fact that the digital age has left Lina behind. She is computer illiterate, a lack that in the last six years has bitten hard. Not for her the promoted ease and convenience of online banking, bill paying and shopping.

So, this tiny, frail, nearly-90-year-old, visits the bank every week to withdraw cash – not insubstantial amounts – to pay her bills. Limited opening hours, long queues and not-always-helpful staff make it an arduous chore. She says that it takes an hour in the bank, often longer.

That copper wire landlines were disappearing somehow passed her by – she doesn’t have a television, listens to RNZ’s Concert programme and prefers international newspapers. It was only in the week before the cut-off that a comment by a neighbour prompted hasty action to arrange a replacement technology.

But nothing is ever simple. Her house and personal alarms were affected by the switch to a VOIP (voice over Internet) option. VOIP isn’t great if you’re hard of hearing. The modem, which was meant to be provided free, shows up as a cost on her next bill. Sorting it out takes hours on the phone.

Though frail of body, Lina is sharp of mind. She rails against the rapidly growing disenfranchisement of older people in Aotearoa New Zealand. At times she is inclined to bitterness, feeling as though she has been discarded. “Old people don’t count”.

In many ways, life could be less onerous and more worry free if Lina moved into assisted living. But that is not simple either. The demand for rest home accommodation has well and truly outstripped supply in this country. The large commercially driven operators are now solely building retirement village accommodation — because that’s where the profit is. No rest home-type facilities are being built and the workforce crisis has seen existing facilities substantially reduce the number of beds on offer. Some have closed. What is needed is more money – Government money – to be invested in aged residential care to boost supply to meet the growing demand. But it is slow in appearing. Which is where we circle back to Lina’s accusation that old people don’t count.

There are unique aspects to Lina’s story and there are choices that she has made, and continues to make, that add complication and difficulty to her life. However, as this country’s ageing population rapidly shifts from a theoretical phenomenon to a confronting reality, Lina’s story will increasingly be the story of others.

It is more than time we recognised that older people in this country deserve much better.

Lina’s name and some personal details have been changed for reasons of privacy. Her experiences are real.