The most dramatic sign came a few days ago: an elderly man was found dead in his home on Via Brusco Onnis, decomposed. No one had looked for him, no one had knocked on his door. The man's life had faded in silence. The same pattern repeated itself—with a different but equally disturbing ending—yesterday. A 70-year-old woman was rescued by firefighters after being left immobile in the bathroom from 11:00 PM until 10:00 AM, unable to move. The alarm was raised in the city center only when a suspicious neighbor tried to contact her. That evening, another emergency occurred. This time, the ambulance, assisted by firefighters, took her to the hospital. All this on the day of farewell to Francesco Antonio Ladu, who died from burns sustained in the fire in his apartment, where he lived alone.
Continuous interventions
It wasn't the first time: in October, the same woman rescued yesterday was treated after a fall. Hospitalized for a long time, she had lost over 20 kilos. Once discharged, she returned to living alone, her fragile condition known but inadequately monitored. And it all happens in the age of technology, where we are constantly connected, traceable, reachable by a notification. Yet there are still those who die at home unnoticed for days, or remain immobilized for hours waiting for someone to realize they're missing. A tragedy that continues to unfold before everyone's eyes and which no one, so far, seems to have truly intercepted. Paolo Fadda, a former city councilor and social policy expert, has been denouncing the phenomenon of elderly people living alone in cities for years. "There are suburbs and suburbs," he explains, "and I'm not just talking about the ones with tall grass. We have an existential periphery, especially in the city center, made up of people who live alone, and it's increasingly difficult to intercept them." Fadda recalls having submitted a question on the topic: "The population is aging, relatives live far away, and neighborhoods aren't meeting their needs."
Goodbye community
According to the former councilor, a profound social shift is underway in Nuoro: "A cultural shift. We don't even notice our neighbors dying." For three years, Lucia Loddo has managed Residenza Rossana, a communal apartment where 14 seniors who cannot or do not want to live alone live together. For Loddo, too, the emergency is the result of a shift in the family structure: "The large family of the past is missing: more children, more siblings, more hands taking turns in caring. It was a guarantee. Today, many leave for work or live far away, and the elderly are left alone." On the one hand, there is the difficulty of balancing work and care; on the other, a care system that often arrives late. And it uncovers lonely deaths, last-minute rescues, known but unmonitored frailties: the city is facing a structural problem. The incidents of recent weeks are not isolated cases, but alarm bells that speak of a changing Nuoro.
Fabio Ledda
