At 61 years old, Ilda Esteves, an employee of the National Health Service (NHS), emerged victorious from the Westford London court at the end of March. She was recognized as a victim of harassment by Charles Oppong, one of her colleagues, who constantly referred to her as “auntie” against her wishes. He was found guilty, and the West London NHS Trust will have to pay the complainant a total of 1,425 British pounds (1,636 euros) in damages and compensation for “emotional distress.”
The story could have ended there. But the defense of the accused made Lola Okolosie, a writer and English professor, raise her eyebrows. In an article for the Guardian, she questions the use of this qualifier and wonders why it is so disturbing in the West.
In Ghanaian culture, from which Charles Oppong hails, using the word “auntie” is “a sign of respect for older women.” Similarly, for many people “from West Africa, the Caribbean, and South Asia,” notes the columnist, “aunt” and “uncle” are honorary titles used as a sign of respect.
“It is so ingrained in us that it becomes a reflex: as a child, calling an elder by their first name could earn you a reprimand from your parents.”
In this context, using these qualifiers is a sign of politeness, but also of belonging to a culture that sees age as “carrying a double richness: experience and wisdom.” However, as the journalist points out, “Using a title that someone has rejected is not a sign of respect.”
In professional and academic environments, and in Western culture “where age hierarchies blur,” this qualifier will be seen more “as an attempt to discredit a colleague.” An offense and a feeling of belittlement reinforced by the fact that “older women feel compelled to conceal their age due to ageism and misogyny,” observes the columnist.
Far from being celebrated, age has become taboo, reflecting a true “Western unease” about aging.
“I am undeniably older,” the writer confesses. But “when I reveal [my age] to my colleagues or new acquaintances, their reaction is at the very least strange. ‘You don’t look your age,’ they sometimes say. As if talking about one’s age was a form of ‘self-deprecation.'”
For the columnist, this can be explained by the cultural tendency in Western society to consider that a woman, because she is older, will want to appear younger.
“What’s the problem if I look my age and bear the visible marks of the years I have lived?,” she wonders. “As my brother, who lives in Nigeria, aptly said: ‘I have earned my gray hair.’ Every single one.”
