Astrid, with a real bell
A retro phone for the hall table or the kitchen counter. No menu, no app, nothing to learn. Lift the handset and the conversation starts. When Astrid rings, the bell is a real one.
Daily phone calls for your elderly loved one
A warm voice phones your mom on the phone, remembers last week's chat, knows her interests, and gives you a shout when something's wrong. She can also call Astrid when she is feeling like a friendly chat and nobody is available.
Meet Astrid
Something to pick up
Astrid is a handset with a real bell and no screen. Pick it up and there is someone to talk to: the garden, the old job, the test match, a Tuesday that feels too quiet. The same companion can ring their landline, or any phone, from a local South African number.
Why we are building thisA retro phone for the hall table or the kitchen counter. No menu, no app, nothing to learn. Lift the handset and the conversation starts. When Astrid rings, the bell is a real one.
A small adapter on their landline, or a call to and from a local number on the cell they already answer. It should feel like a neighbour ringing, not an overseas robocall.
For parents living here, paid for by their children abroad. Pictures show the proposed handset. Pricing and launch dates are not set, and the waitlist is open by email.
How it works
The long chat is for them. You hear how the day felt, without reading a transcript.
Astrid on the counter, their landline, or any phone and a local number.
Memories, the garden, the news. They can ring back when the afternoon feels long.
A few lines about the day. An alert only if something seems wrong.
A warm voice phones your mom on the phone, remembers last week's chat, knows her interests, and gives you a shout when something's wrong. She can also call Astrid when she is feeling like a friendly chat and nobody is available.

Not a checklist. A conversation they can actually settle into.
“The peaches are early. Do you remember the tree at the old house?”
A Tuesday in Johannesburg“Tell me again about the year you drove down to the Cape.”
As long as they likeYou are in London, Perth, Dubai, or Toronto. They are at home in South Africa. You pay for Astrid. They get the company. You get a short note, on their clock.
Read our storyOn their phone
No app to learn. They answer, or they pick up, and someone has time.
For you, abroad
A few lines after the call. Enough to know how the day felt.
A few clear details
Astrid is a South African project for older people who want someone to talk to, and for their adult children who cannot call every day. They pick up a simple phone and chat with a warm AI companion. Astrid also rings once a day, at a time the family chooses, on a South African clock. You get a short note afterwards.
An AI companion. We will say so, plainly, at the start of a call. The companion is not a person, not a member of the family, and not a stand-in for your own call. The aim is interesting company: stories, hobbies, the news, old jokes, and whatever they feel like saying. It remembers earlier chats so the next one can pick up the thread.
Whatever keeps a real conversation going. The garden. A job they loved. Cricket. A recipe. A grandchild’s new school. A day that felt flat. You can share a little of their life so the companion has somewhere to begin, and you can say which topics to leave alone. The daily ring can be a visit, not an interview about pills and pain.
The idea is a conversation with room in it. They should be able to ring when they feel like company, and stay on the line, not be cut off after a three-minute check-in. How long each call runs, and what that costs, is still being worked out.
Yes. Astrid introduces itself as an AI companion. We do not pretend to be a relative, a nurse, or a friend from church.
Yes. The handset we are designing is Astrid as well: a retro phone with a real bell, a cradle, and no screen. It is one of three ways onto the same companion. The other two use phones they may already have.
Not for the conversation. If they can answer a phone, they can use Astrid. The handset is for homes that want the bell in the hallway. A small adapter is for the landline. A local number works on an ordinary cell or landline. What each path needs — power, a phone line, Wi-Fi — is still being settled, including afternoons when the power is out.
So the call looks familiar. A ring from overseas is easy to ignore, and it can cost them to answer. Astrid is being designed to ring and to be rung like a local call, on their time, in their home.
South Africans in their forties, more or less, living in another country, with a parent still at home in South Africa. You are the person who pays and who reads the note. They are the person who gets the conversation. If that is your family, you are who we want to hear from.
A short daily note: how they sounded, and what they felt like talking about. Not a transcript, and not a recording to browse. The conversation belongs to them. If something in it seems wrong — a fall they mention, a sudden confusion, a day that does not sound like them — you get an alert so you can call them yourself.
On their clock in South Africa, at a time you choose. Morning for them may be the middle of your night in London or the evening before in Perth. The note can wait until you are awake. The conversation does not.
That is the plan. Brothers and sisters, including the one who still lives nearby, should be able to share the note without sharing a login scramble. The details are not built yet.
No. Astrid cannot call an ambulance, detect a fall, or watch the house. If something in the conversation seems wrong, the alert is a prompt for you to phone them, not a promise that we noticed everything. In an emergency in South Africa, call 10111 or 112.
No. It is not a doctor, a nurse, a counsellor, or a financial adviser. It should encourage them to speak to a real person when something is serious. It does not replace a clinic, a carer, or you.
They are told an AI is on the line, and that the family receives a short note rather than the whole conversation. We are designing this in South Africa, with POPIA in mind. We will say plainly what is stored, who can see it, and how a family can ask for it to be deleted. Those rules are not finished, and we will not pretend they are.
English first. Afrikaans matters in many of these homes, and it is part of the plan, not a date we are promising. If your parent would rather talk in another language, tell us on the waitlist. We want to hear that before we build the wrong thing.
Not yet. There is no price and no delivery date. Join the waitlist and tell us which city your parent is in, and which city you are in. That is the most useful thing you can send.
Something else on your mind? hello@astrid.sugisystems.com.