Tag Archives: covid19

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Regret is a non-splendoured thing

I got a call late yesterday morning- the one when the phone rings, you recognise the number, and your heart plummets in your chest, because news has not been good lately, and you dread what you’ll hear when you answer. My mother passed away. Just like that. My closest blood relative, the person who brought me into this world, who gave me life.

Yes, I understand the irony of how I feel. I am an adoptive parent. I did not want children for many years, because I had such a tumultuous and abusive relationship with my mother. I was worried that I might turn out the be the same kind of mother, and I’d wish that on no child. And by the time I knew better, and I really yearned for children of my own, this is the route that worked out for me.

Somehow people think when you’ve lost an estranged parent, it is ok. You didn’t have much of a relationship with them, so why be sad? It is much much more complicated than that. I didn’t realise I’d feel this overwhelming grief. I manage to get my tears under control, only for it to all start up again at a thought, a smell, a word. My way of dealing with emotions is to do something, to cook, to write, to make something.

It is tough growing up without a mother. I had a person in my life, who gave birth to me, but who was in no way what a mother personifies. There was no love, no nurturing, no hugs, no care. Today, I wonder if she didn’t have postnatal depression, and was never diagnosed. But that doesn’t explain the constant abuse. I was eventually removed by social workers into state care when I was fifteen, and pretty much made my own way from there. That was 30 years ago.

It goes beyond explanation, but I constantly went back to try and remedy the situation. When I matriculated, I begged for a lift, and I made my way to where she lived. I wanted to share with her that not only did I matriculate top of my class, but I also got a very rare and much-needed bursary to go to university. When I knocked, and she saw it was me, her exchange with me was bitter. She told me in no uncertain terms that I am nothing to her.

It is tough entering the adult world without a mother. I’ve always had caring people who stood in the place she should have been, but it is not the same. I envied girls who had easy access to a mom to teach them everything they needed to know about transitioning into an adult. How to wear make-up, how to handle suitors, how to wear jewellery, appropriate clothes for specific events. Someone to giggle with about silly things, someone to whisper my dreams to who gave me complete support. Someone who stood up for me when I couldn’t on my own, who took my side when I needed an ally, who anchored me when seas got rough.

So yes, I yearned for a mother. I constantly tried to reconnect, and when I got married, I went to introduce my new husband to my real family, so he could be under no misunderstanding as to my origins. Poor, and from the complete wrong side of the tracks. We actually ended up staying with them for a few days – things seemed to be going smoother.

When my marriage fell apart, I went to fetch my mother to come and stay with me for a few days. I really just needed comfort and companionship. Comfort she had no idea how to give, companionship, she tried her best. It felt as if we were cautiously feeling our way towards each other.

Over the years, depending on my own income, I’d send money, or help buy whatever was needed: a fridge, a stove, groceries, essentials. It reached a point where it started feeling my mother would just contact me when she needed money or when she needed me to get something for her.

Our fragile relationship shattered to pieces again when I reopened our old wounds, and tried to explore why she abused me so badly as a child. She denied completely that anything of the sort had happened, shut herself off from all communication, and I left, angry. We went back and forth like this for years, with me just wanting answers and to understand, and with her completely denying that anything of the sort had happened.

It took me having children of my own before I finally understood. I could not force my mother to love me, or to even give me any answers or closure. Also, I was not to blame for what happened to me as a child, I did not fail in any way. There is nothing I could have done better, or differently. I was a child, she was the adult. If I wanted any kind of relationship with her, it would have to be unconditionally.

Last year I packed up my twins and off we went to Queenstown for a visit over the festive season. I hadn’t seen my mother in fifteen years by then, and I was worried that the visit would be strained. And yes, of course it was. My mother could not make eye contact with me, and for the first couple of days she spoke to me via other people. Like: “Eddie, ask Jolindy if she wants coffee”, or “Imelda: I think Jolindy needs a chair.” But I could see she was trying. She kept an eye on me and when she thought I needed something, she’d get someone to sort it out. And I just went back, day after day, relentlessly.

By now, my mother could not walk properly. A hip replacement from many years ago started failing, and she was in line for a wheelchair. She smoked non-stop, and sat at their little kitchen table, from where she ran their little household. It was hard, to go sit at that table, all day, every day. I had brought lots of activities for the twins, and they were happy and entertained with puzzles and toys. But that time sitting at that table turned out to be most valuable. I let go of my questions about her motherhood and my childhood. I forgave her, and I embraced her as to who she turned out to be.

From there, I spoke to her almost every day telephonically, and the twins embraced her as “Ouma”. She loved it, and she told them she loved them. She couldn’t say it to me, but I could hear she wanted to. As to me, I struggled to articulate the word “Mom”. I’d avoid calling her anything, and structured my sentences to her so there was no form of address. It was hard, the word stuck in my throat. I am happy that during our last conversations I did manage to work it in.

My mother and Eddie were supposed to come and visit us at home in George over the Easter period. I had booked and confirmed their tickets, and we were all ready for them with planned treats and outings. She was so excited. A week before they would have come, she let me know that she got her wheelchair, and she would be able to be more mobile. Our Covid-19 figures started growing, and a travel ban was imposed, not only on international travel, but also on all domestic travel. We took it in our stride, and said as soon as all of this is over, we’ll have our visit. It was her birthday three weeks ago – she still reminded me, as if I’d ever forgot. April 10, every year, I have always thought of her in some way. This year I bought her a much-coveted tea set, that we were going to put in their bedroom as a surprise when they came.

The call that she was hospitalised happened just over a week ago. I frantically called the hospital for more detailed news, because my mother’s husband, Eddie, seemed to have no idea what was happening, and my brother, Jan, was in a state. I could get no information, because I could not verify telephonically that I am next of kin. The hospital explained I have to be there in person. There was no way I would be allowed to travel, the country was in the middle of our most severe level 5 lockdown, and my mother was hospitalised in another province. The police just said no to a travel permit, funerals only. I might now to be allowed to travel, as soon as a death certificate is issued, I’ll have to apply. I tried yesterday with our documents and an affidavit, but it was a firm no.

A kind doctor finally got back to me and explained the severity of the situation. Stage 5 cancer, very aggressive. A stroke as well. My mother was in a lot of pain and unable to speak. Swollen hands, unable to hold a phone. I had to communicate via Eddie. Due to a broken car and financial issues, he could also not visit her daily, so updates were few and far between. The prognosis looked bleak. I did not know when she had been discharged, the last I heard from the hospital, my mother was supposed to go by ambulance to the nearest oncology clinic.

And now, she has passed away. Peaceful, it seems, in bed, next to her husband, in the small hours of the morning. I never got to say goodbye, or to even hug her. I don’t know what she would have made of a hug, she was not really a demonstrative person. There will be no more chances for further reconciliation, no more time just sitting with her, quietly listening to her, talking about inconsequential stuff, but talking. Eddie told me she could not stop talking about our visit over Christmas. It was all she wanted, it gave her peace. I regret not having let go of my resentment years ago, and just letting us develop an adult relationship.

Loss is a complicated thing. And so is grief. There is this huge hole inside of me, and my eyes keep on misting up and I have to delete and retype. Estranged or not, she was my mother. And I miss her more than I ever knew I would.

by

Physical distancing, Social Togetherness #LockDownSA Day 16

Day 16 LockDown

11 April 2020

1934 cases
Recovered: 410 (not sure if this number is accurate)
Deceased: 24

I found this circle diagram online, and it immediately resonated with me. One of the reasons I studied psychology, eventually NLP and became a lifecoach, is because I firmly believe that our reality is based on choice. The way we perceive the world around us, the “lens” through which we choose to view the world, ultimately determine our experience and our outcomes.

For instance, I read an interesting illustration that might explain this all better. There’s an old story about two boys who had a father who was an alcoholic. They grew into young men. One son became an alcoholic. “What choice do I have?” he said. “My father is an alcoholic.” The other son never touched a drop of alcohol. “How could I?” he said. “Look what it did to my father.”

There is probably a number of lessons that can be learnt from this simple and effective story, but the one that stands out for me is that we all have the power to choose. We may not always be able to control what happens around us, but it is up to us as individuals to choose how it affects us and how we respond. We can’t control the circumstances, but we have total and complete control over our reaction.

I am an adoptive mom of the most amazing twins. I cannot imagine my life without them. Yet, roughly 6-7 years ago I was in the clutches of a very dark depression. I had three miscarriages, and a friend whose support I badly needed at the time, chose to rather leave my employ, take over a number of our clients and open direct opposition to our business, and financially we were in trouble. There was a time when I could not even muster the will to get out of bed in the mornings. There was just no point. The black dog was my constant companion, and it cast a shadow over everything I wanted to do. I eventually accepted a job with a national corporate to help our company survive, just for another friend for whom I organised a position with the same company to aim for my position and cause me to lose this job. Just a year before all this, I was in Egypt, completing my Master NLP qualification. Newly qualified, I felt that I was supposed to “know it all” and set an example. There was this constant nagging little inner voice berating me all the time for just not being able to drag myself up by the bootstraps and snap out of this. I had all the knowledge, just not the ability.

It took time. A lot of time, a lot of healing, and constant persistent daily choices of how I was going to act or respond. Some days were really bad, some were better. I grieved for my miscarried babies, for lost friends, for unexpected betrayals, for our limping marriage, for our crippled company. This journey is different for every person. And it is really important that we always remember this. No matter what your journey is, or where you are in your life, no two people walk the same road. Just because I am able to function and run a business in the middle of my tsunami, doesn’t mean another person with the same circumstances, is able to. Even my “ability to function” is questionable sometimes – there are still some days that I find it hard to motivate myself. In my case, I have a self-motivation centered around the good old carrot and stick. If I achieve my goals that I am supposed to, I can reward myself. If not, I take away a reward. It also helps in a way that I have so many people and their families dependent on me. If I don’t do what I am supposed to, it impacts so many more people than just my little family.

Now, with Covid19, and everything that is happening in the world around us, it is even more important to take ownership for our actions and our reactions. Fear is our enemy, it always is. It causes behaviour like selfishness, hoarding, spreading misinformation, acting like a victim and looking where to place the blame. However, it is also dangerous to create a space of guilt, where one causes other people who are in a different space to feel that they are not good enough, or not coping enough. It is so unnecessary and hurtful to say things like, “But I am in the same situation, and look at all that I can do, why can’t you?” It is imperative that we realise every single person in the world right now is doing their utmost every day just to do what they can. People have different coping mechanisms and different reactions. Let’s leave each other be, support where we can, be understanding and share as much care and love as we are able to, if we are able.

Today, and every day, the best tool that I can offer you is gratitude. Gratitude in the face of adversity is so awfully hard, but it is a tool that really works to get an altered mindset, and more specifically, a more positive mindset. I have a gratitude diary, and every day, I try to write 3 – 5 new things that I am grateful for. This is not a guideline. If you cannot write something every day, don’t.

Affirmations and gratitude goes hand in hand, but I personally find that most affirmations tend to backfire. For instance, try and tell yourself in a mirror how wealthy you are, and hear that sabotaging inner voice laughing at you snarkily. Unless you are wealthy, and then good for you. The only affirmation that I find works for me, and works believably well, is Emile Coue’s “Every day in every way I am getting better and better.” Take that, snarky inner voice! Not much you can say about that! Because after all, it is up to me how I get better, and in what way, every day. My choice, my ownership, my responsibility.

by

Physical distancing, Social Togetherness #LockDownSA Day 15

Day 15 LockDown

10 April 2020

2003 cases
Recovered: 45
Deceased: 18

It is Good Friday today – a time of hope, of recovery and of rebirth. This is a part of the message conveyed by our President, Cyril Ramaphosa, when he addressed us as a nation last night and announced that the lockdown is going to be extended by another three weeks. This is a message that we desperately need in this time of insecurity and fear. We shall recover, says our President. We shall overcome.

There was a time, as a teenager, when I worked in a town called Sterkspruit at the Cash & Carry on Saturdays for some extra cash. Our country was in turmoil. We had international sanctions against us. The army had to accompany us to protect us against flying bullets, necklacing, protests, molotov cocktails thrown at moving vehicles and more. It was like driving through a war zone. Our country was being reborn, with rights and equality for all. It was a difficult time, and yet we made it.

Now, we are in this crisis together as a global people. The virus is everywhere, affecting everyone. I support our President, and the hard decisions he has to make. I just have to ask – what about when we reach the end of April? What about even later, towards June? The virus will still be around. I read an article that claims intermittent physical distancing will still be around until at least 2020. According to this article:

With much of the world struggling financially and mentally in self-isolation and lockdowns, people around the world are undoubtedly looking forward to the end of such unprecedented measures.

But according to analysis by Harvard researchers, the best strategy for beating COVID-19 probably isn’t one extended period of physical distancing, but several staggered periods, with time in between to allow immunity to take hold in the population.

The research posits that this strategy could “avoid overwhelming hospitals while allowing immunity to build in the population.”

Extending this lockdown for longer and longer will have a devastating and difficult to recover from effect on our economy. Businesses are forced to close. Debts can be paid, rent, credit cards, vehicles, property – the list is endless. The Rupert and Oppenheimer funding initiatives, has in the interim closed down temporarily because applications reached capacity. The government funding applications seems biased towards specific business types, and not all businesses currently in trouble qualify to apply. Here’s a list of some of the assistance available: https://smesouthafrica.co.za/the-small-business-covid-19-survival-guide-where-to-get-help/

I don’t have any answers. What I do know, is that we’ve been through hectic periods before and survived. We cannot just give up. Giving up means we’ve already lost.

The Speech:

President Cyril Ramaphosa: Extension of Coronavirus COVID-19 lockdown to the end of April

9 Apr 2020

My Fellow South Africans,

At midnight tonight, it will be exactly two weeks since our country entered into an unprecedented nation-wide lockdown to contain the spread of the coronavirus.

During the course of these last two weeks, your lives have been severely disrupted, you have suffered great hardship and endured much uncertainty.

We have closed our borders to the world, our children are not in school, businesses have closed their operations, many have lost their income, and our economy has ground to a halt.

And yet, faced with such daunting challenges, you, the people of South Africa, have responded with remarkable patience and courage.

You have respected the lockdown and largely observed the regulations.

You have accepted the severe restrictions on your movement and many of the daily freedoms that we all take for granted.

You have done so because you have understood the devastating effect that this disease will have on the health and well-being of all South Africans unless we take drastic measures.

You have also understood that we must do everything in our power to prevent the massive loss of life that would occur if we did not act.

For your cooperation, for your commitment and above all for your patience, I wish to thank you personally.
I wish to thank you for reaffirming to each other and to the world that we South Africans are a people who come together and unite at moments of great crisis.

Earlier today I had a most productive meeting with our Premiers about the work they are doing in provinces and districts to stop the spread of the virus.

I also had a discussion with the leaders of all our political parties represented in Parliament, who collectively pledged their support for the efforts that are being made to combat the pandemic.

Through this we are demonstrating that we are able to work together across party lines to confront a common threat.

Since I announced the lockdown just over two weeks ago, the global coronavirus pandemic has worsened.

Two weeks ago, there were 340,000 confirmed coronavirus cases in the world.

We now have over 1.5 million confirmed cases worldwide.

Over 90,000 people across the world have died from this disease.

The health systems of many countries have been overwhelmed.

Even the most developed economies in the world have not had the means to treat the many thousands who have fallen ill.

They have struggled to find the medical supplies and personnel necessary to deal with the pandemic.

The devastating effect of this is that many people have died.

The global evidence is overwhelming.

It confirms that our decision to declare a national state of disaster and to institute a nation-wide lockdown was correct and it was timely.

While it is too early to make a definitive analysis of the progression of the disease in South Africa, there is sufficient evidence to show that the lockdown is working.

Since the lockdown came into effect, the rate at which new cases have been identified here in South Africa has slowed significantly.

From 1,170 confirmed cases on the 27th of March, the number of confirmed cases today stands at 1,934.

In the two weeks before the lockdown, the average daily increase in new cases was around 42%.

Since the start of the lockdown, the average daily increase has been around 4%.

While we recognise the need to expand testing to gain a better picture of the infection rate, this represents real progress.

The measures we have taken – such as closing our borders and prohibiting gatherings – as well as the changes that we have each had to make in our own behaviour, have definitely slowed the spread of the virus.

But the struggle against the coronavirus is far from over.

We are only at the beginning of a monumental struggle that demands our every resource and our every effort.

We cannot relax. We cannot be complacent.

In the coming weeks and months, we must massively increase the extent of our response and expand the reach of our interventions.

We are learning both from the experiences of other countries and from the evidence we now have about the development of the pandemic in South Africa.

Both make a clear and compelling case to proceed in a manner that is cautious and properly calibrated.

Simply put, if we end the lockdown too soon or too abruptly, we risk a massive and uncontrollable resurgence of the disease.

We risk reversing the gains we have made over the last few weeks, and rendering meaningless the great sacrifices we have all made.

Fellow South Africans,

This evening, I stand before you to ask you to endure even longer.

I have to ask you to make even greater sacrifices so that our country may survive this crisis and so that tens of thousands of lives may be saved.

After careful consideration of the available evidence, the National Coronavirus Command Council has decided to extend the nation-wide lockdown by a further two weeks beyond the initial 21 days.

This means that most of the existing lockdown measures will remain in force until the end of April.

We will use the coming days to evaluate how we will embark on risk-adjusted measures that can enable a phased recovery of the economy, allowing the return to operation of certain sectors under strictly controlled conditions.

We will also use this time to ramp up our public health interventions.

We did not take this decision to extend the lockdown lightly.

As your President, I am mindful of the great and heavy burden this will impose on you.

I am keenly aware of the impact this will have on our economy.

But I know, as you do, that unless we take these difficult measures now, unless we hold to this course for a little longer, the coronavirus pandemic will engulf, and ultimately consume, our country.

We all want the economy to come back to life, we want people to return to work, we want our children to go back to school, and we all want to be able to move freely again.

But our immediate priority must remain to slow down the spread of the virus and to prevent a massive loss of life.

We must do this while preventing our economy from collapsing and saving our people from hunger.

We are determined to pursue a path that both saves lives and protects livelihoods.

Our strategy is made up of three parts:

–    Firstly, an intensified public health response to slow down and reduce infections.

–    Secondly, a comprehensive package of economic support measures to assist businesses and individuals affected by the pandemic.

–    Thirdly, a programme of increased social support to protect poor and vulnerable households.

As government, together with our many partners, we have used this lockdown period to both refine and intensify our public health strategy to manage the coronavirus.

Our approach is to screen in communities and test people in hospitals, clinics and mobile clinics, to isolate those who are infected, and to care for those who are ill in our health facilities.

We need to do this intensively and systematically.

We have used the last week to develop our screening and testing methodology in various parts of the country.

Over the next two weeks, we will roll out the community screening and testing programme across all provinces, focusing in particular on highly vulnerable communities.

Those who test positive and cannot self-isolate at home will be isolated at special facilities that have been identified and are now being equipped.

At all times, we will observe the human rights of all people.

Let us not discriminate against people who test positive.

To ensure that our strategies are effectively coordinated and to ensure they are informed by comprehensive, real-time data, we have established the COVID-19 Information Centre at the Council for Scientific and Industrial Research.

This world-class centre will keep track of all screening, testing, isolation and hospitalisation throughout the country.

It is already identifying infection hotspots.

It is following the spread and the severity of the disease, and enabling us to move our focus and resources where they are most needed.

We are working with mobile telephony companies and other institutions to locate those people who have tested positive for the virus and those with whom they have been in contact.

As part of the second element of our strategy, we have put in place various measures to provide support to businesses in distress, to workers facing loss of income, to the self-employed and to informal businesses.

Many of these measures are being taken up by both large and small businesses.

The Unemployment Insurance Fund has set aside R40 billion to help employees who will be unable to work, as part of the effort to prevent jobs losses as a result of the lockdown.

To date, it has paid out R356 million.

I would like to applaud all those employers who have continued to pay their workers during this difficult time, as well as those employers who are working with unions and government to assist their employees to access these benefits.

I would like to call on all businesses to continue to pay their suppliers, to the extent that they can, to ensure that those suppliers can also continue to operate and pay their staff and suppliers.

In this respect, I would like to appeal to all large businesses not to resort to force majeure and stop paying their suppliers and rental commitments, as such practice has a domino effect on all other businesses dependent on that chain.

We must do all we can to ensure that the underlying economy continues to function and to focus support on those small businesses that really need them.

The Industrial Development Corporation has set aside R3 billion for the procurement of essential medical supplies.

It has already approved R130 million in funding and expects to approve a further R400 million in the coming week to companies who applied for funding under this special facility.

The Small Enterprise Finance Agency has approved the postponement of loan repayments for a period of 6 months.

The small business debt relief and business growth facilities are currently adjudicating applications for assistance.

There is a total of R500 million available in support.

Government has reprioritised R1.2 billion to provide relief to smallholder farmers and to contribute to the security of food supply.

In addition to these expenditure measures, the Reserve Bank has also lowered interest rates and has taken measures to inject liquidity into the economy.

One of the biggest challenges that all countries in the world are facing is the shortage of medical supplies to fight the coronavirus.

As a country we have had to rely on our own capabilities to supply these goods, but have also had to source supplies from other countries.

In recent weeks, we have seen a massive mobilisation of South African business, labour, academics and government agencies to build the stocks of medical and other equipment needed to fight coronavirus.

We have, for example, established the National Ventilator Project to rapidly mobilise the technical and industrial resources of our country to manufacture non-invasive ventilators, which can be used to support patients afflicted with the disease.

Other projects are focusing on increasing the local manufacture of protective face masks, hand sanitisers and pharmaceutical products which can be used by health care workers and the public at large.

As the third part of our coronavirus response, we have been working to provide basic needs such as water and to maintain the reliability of food supply to the poorest South Africans.

We have also expanded the provision of food parcels and we’ve provided spaza shops with financial support.

To date, government has delivered over 11,000 water storage tanks to communities in need across the country, and many of these have been installed.

In addition, 1,000 water tankers have been provided for the delivery of water.

Several homeless people have been accommodated in 154 shelters.

I am pleased to report that the Solidarity Fund – which was established to mobilise resources from companies, organisations and individuals to combat the coronavirus pandemic – has so far raised around R2.2 billion.

It has already allocated around R1 billion to buy sterile gloves, face shields, surgical masks, test kits and ventilators.

It will also allocate funds for humanitarian relief to vulnerable households, in addition to the R400 million set aside by government for Social Relief of Distress grants.

All of these efforts, while necessary and commendable, will not be sufficient on their own to cushion the poor from the impact of this pandemic.

Nor will they provide the relief that businesses and their employees require.

Additional extraordinary measures will need to be put in place in the coming weeks and months to absorb the sudden loss of income to both businesses and individuals.

We are in a situation that demands swift action and exceptional methods, a situation that demands innovation and the mobilisation of every resource that we have.

Cabinet will be developing a comprehensive package of urgent economic measures to respond both to the immediate crisis and to the severe economic challenges that we must confront in the months ahead.

Further announcements on the next phase of our economic and social support strategy will be made in due course.

An essential part of our response to this emergency is the principle of solidarity.

From across society, companies and individuals have come forward to provide financial and other assistance.

In support of this effort, we have decided that the President, Deputy President, Ministers and Deputy Ministers will each take a one-third cut in their salaries for the next three months.

This portion of their salaries will be donated to the Solidarity Fund.

We are calling on other public office bearers and executives of large companies to make a similar gesture and to further increase the reach of this national effort.

In this regard, we welcome the donation of 20,000 cellphones by Vodacom for health workers that will be involved in screening and tracing in communities.

As we have stressed before and we will stress once again, our struggle against the coronavirus requires fundamental changes in behaviour from all of us.

Until we have contained the coronavirus, the same rules remain.

Shaking hands, hugging, sitting close to each other and other forms of physical contact enable this virus to be transmitted, and must be avoided.

We must continue to wash our hands regularly and thoroughly using water and soap or sanitiser.

To stay safe and to keep others safe we must continue to respect whatever restrictions that are placed on our movement and on our daily lives

Over the past two weeks, I have been speaking to other African leaders about a coordinated continental effort to combat the coronavirus and support our people and our economies.

We have established an AU COVID-19 Response Fund to mobilise the resources necessary to support this effort.

We have reached out to world leaders, even as they struggle with the pandemic in their countries, to assist the continent with essential medical supplies and to support a comprehensive stimulus package for Africa.

As we confront this disease in our country, we are part of a great global effort that is bringing humanity together in ways that many never thought possible.

For billions across the world, and for us here in South Africa, the coronavirus pandemic has changed everything.

We can no longer work in the way we have before.

As government, as NGOs, as political parties, as large corporations and small businesses, as financial institutions, as community organisations and as South Africans we will need to adapt to a new reality.

As we emerge from this crisis, our country will need to undergo a process of fundamental reconstruction.

To do so, we will draw on our strengths: our abundant natural resources, our advanced infrastructure, our deep financial markets, our proven capabilities in information and communication technology, and the depth of talent among our people.

We will draw on our proven capacity for innovation and creativity, our ability to come together in a crisis, and our commitment to each other and our common future.

We will learn from global experience and the best scientific evidence, but we will craft a uniquely South African response that uses our own capabilities as a nation.

This weekend is a sacred time for many South Africans.

For many, it will be difficult to spend this time without their friends and family.

I ask that you keep in your thoughts tonight all in our land who are vulnerable, destitute and alone.

I ask that you give what you can to alleviate their burden.

To contribute to the Solidarity Fund in any way you can.

This is a difficult time for us all.

Yet the message of Easter is one we carry in our hearts tonight.

It is the message of hope, of recovery and of rebirth.

As we walk this road together, as we struggle to defeat this pandemic, we remain strong and united and resolved.

Much is being asked of you, far more than should ever be asked.

But we know that this is a matter of survival, and we dare not fail.

We shall recover.

We shall overcome.

May God bless South Africa and protect her people.

I thank you.

by

Physical distancing, Social Togetherness #LockDownSA Day 10

Day 10 LockDown

5 April 2020

1585 cases
Recovered: 45
Deceased: 9

Sunday bloody Sunday. Our first double digits official lockdown day, and a new week ahead that we have to face several business challenges, both for us and for our clients.

I take my hat off to journalists, I myself worked as a journalist for years, and I know how tough the job is. But today I can only shake my head at some of the most irresponsible journalism ever. The biggest Afrikaans newspaper, Rapport, screamed in massive block letters on its front page that lockdown could be extended to four months. Really, Rapport, really? In a time where people are terrified as it is. If this was hard news based on an official announcement by our government – you know what, of course, go for it. But most of the article is idle speculation fuelled by theories on what ifs and this might happens.

I have never seen our Rand perform so dismally against the dollar. Today is a bit better than yesterday, with the graph straightening a bit and not just shooting upwards, but at R19.05 to the dollar, this spells a lot of uncertainty for our imports market. South Africa relies heavily on imported manufactured goods. And with Covid-19, we desperately need medical supplies and equipment from China to support our medical teams and support personnel.

There is also some really good news. Our 2019-2020 National Crime Statistics are yet to be officially released, however, during an analysis of crime from the first week of the lockdown, compared to the same period last year, this morning (5 April), Police Minister General Bheki Cele confirmed a very welcome decrease of serious crimes during lockdown:

  • Murder cases have dropped from 326 to 94
  • Rape cases have dropped from 699 to 101
  • Cases of assault with intent to inflict grievous bodily harm dropped from 2 673 to 456 case
  • Trio crimes (which include carjackings, house robberies and business robberies) dropped from 8 853 to 2 098.
    There is also a very welcome decrease in lockdown-related complaints.

Amidst all this uncertainty, we had a pretty relaxed Sunday here in the city of George. Our streets have never been quieter. We started our day with the longest bath ever. Every single bath duck had to be bathed and squeezed and lined up. It is such a privilege that my children enjoy having a bath with their mommy. We pottered around in the kitchen, and I taught the world’s most amazing twins how to make Chicken Biryani and Naan bread. We danced to a track list on Spotify, and when we were done, the kitchen looked as if a flour factory exploded in there. But we had fun, and most of all, the twins are having fun. I do not know how much of all of this they will remember, but what they do remember, I want them to remember with fondness and nostalgia, not fear and uncertainty. I never know when the next last will show up, so I try to make each moment last. I don’t remember the last time I could pick up both of them at the same time, or the last time they asked for a night bottle. Or the last time I changed a nappy (not missing those, but just sayin’) My mommy heart cringes every time I see how much bigger they are getting.

There is a bit of unnecessary whininess on the book of the face about people posting lists of questions and playing games, and how frivolous all of this seems in the midst of all this disaster. I remember reading that when the Titanic sank, the band continued playing. People need distraction when their world collapses. What does it matter really what people do to distract themselves during this time? Some of the questionnaires and tags are fun, and we all get to know each other a bit more. My blog title for during this time and this series: Physical Distancing, Social Togetherness, is exactly about this. Yes, we need to physically maintain distance from each other, but with all the technology we have today, there is no reason to distance ourselves socially. We can chat online, message via several apps, converse on our social media platforms, share, learn, like, comment, debate – it doesn’t matter. Stay involved and be part of the online community. Besides, I’ll rather complete a questionnaire or post a mysterious phrase on my wall than read the absolute hogwash that is coming out of the keyboards of some of the sheeple out there.

This is seriously what Facebook sounds like at the moment. And I am over it. If you read my blog and you support the way out there conspiracies that are floating around the cyber social space at the moment, kindly get yourself out of my world. You become the people you associate with most, and I fear that my own intelligence might take a dive just by association.

Anyway, no more doom and gloom for me today. I have a date planned in my bed, with some hot cross buns and hot tea and a book (don’t judge). I conclude with a fun interview I had with the twins today – even I didn’t expect some of the answers. Perhaps try these questions with your kiddoes. See, the social media questionnaires aren’t all bad *wink, wink

** CHILD INTERVIEW **
Ask your child these questions and write their
EXACT response.

Interview with Alice & James

1. What’s your name? Giggles Alice/Jamesie

2. How old are you? 5 years old (both) and no, they are 4 years old

3. How old is your mom? Both: 8 (aren’t they just too adorable 😂😂)

4. What’s your favourite color? Alice: Pink/James: Red

5. What’s your favourite food? Alice: Sweeties/James: Pizza

6. Who’s your best friend? Alice: Janie/James: Wandle

7. What’s your favourite song? James: The Fire and the Lion (It’s Katy Perry’s Roar)/Alice: Let it go

8. What do you like to watch on TV? Alice: Barbie and the Dreamhouse/James: Power Rangers

9.What’s your favorite animal? James: Lion/Alice: a horse, a horse!!

10. What makes you happy? James: Bicycle/Alice: my dollies

11. Where’s your favorite place to go? Alice: the mall/James: John Dory’s

12. What do you want to be when you grow up? Alice: A mommy/James: A daddy

13. What does mommy do all day? Go to work and take us to school and come and fetch us

14. What are you scared of? James: A monster/ Alice: A bee

15 Where does money come from? Both: from the shop

16. Where did you come from? Both: from my house

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Physical distancing, Social Togetherness #LockDownSA Day 9

Day 9 LockDown

4 April 2020

1505 cases
Recovered: 31
Deceased: 7

Family. To me, I am torn between absolutely loving the quality time I spend with my twins, and feeling guilty because I am not working as hard as I usually do. We spent today in definite weekend-mode. After breakfast (I thought I’d spoil them with a different take on egg, but nooooo – the response was: Are you sure this is eggy, Mommy?) I spent some time in my home office in the morning, getting work done, and then I made sure to just spend the rest of the day with Alice and James, asking them what they want and what they want to do.

We ended up painting and doing crafts for a bit. I hurt my ankle, so Dad had to do a grocery run for us. It is still the same injury from earlier in the year, but Alice dropped a full 2 litre bottle of Oros on my foot by accident this morning. I had to ice it most of the day and keep it rested.

The afternoon was dedicated to making homemade pizza with my tried and tested favourite base recipe and a movie marathon: no surprise there. Frozen II and The Emoji Movie. I think I can recite entire excerpts of dialogue flawlessly from either of these (any many more like them).

The sheer routine of the day and the continued laughter from the twins are keeping me from freaking out. The news is so very very negative out there. People are busy going batshit crazy – there is really no other way to describe it. Apparently in the UK people are burning cellphone towers because they think there is a link between 5G and the CoronaVirus. Closer to home, apparently the mass evacuation of SA townships is imminent, in an effort to stop the spread of the virus. I do a lot of community upliftment work, and I remember the battle that was lost when we tried to convince residents living in a flood-risk area near Kleinbrak to relocate to new RDP houses in a safer area. They wanted none of it.

I read this essay online today – it is a very interesting read, and certainly makes me think about what we are doing:

*Protagoras Paradox*
Over 2000 years ago, in Greece, there was a lawyer named Protagoras. A young student, Euathlus, requested to apprentice under him, but was unable to pay the fees. The student struck a deal saying, “I will pay your fee the day I win my first case in the court”. Teacher agreed. When the training was complete and a few years had elapsed without the student paying up, the teacher decided to sue the student in the court of law.
The teacher thought to himself: ‘If I win the case, as per the law, the student will have to pay me, as the case is about non-payment of dues. And if lose the case, the student will still have to pay me, because he would have won his first case. Either way I will get paid’.
The student’s view was, ‘If I win the case, I won’t have to pay the teacher, as the case is about my non-payment of fees. And if I lose the case, I don’t have to pay him since I wouldn’t have won my first case yet. Either way I will not pay the teacher.’
This is known as Protagoras Paradox, whichever way you look both have equally convincing arguments, one can go either way in supporting the teacher or the student and would not be wrong.
Those of us in medical practice often come across such situations, either in making a diagnostic or therapeutic decision. One physician can recommend a course of treatment based on scientific evidence and another can recommend a diametrically opposite course again based on medical evidence. Right or wrong, some merit would exist on both sides. Often the physician himself is having an internal struggle to make a decision about the most appropriate course of action, Protagoras & Euathlus are arguing in his mind, to do this or to do that. The horns of dilemma are tearing him apart.

But what prompted this essay was a tweet by Donald Trump, ‘hope the cure is not worse than the disease’. I hate to say it, but I find some merit in this tweet. In our global attempt to flatten the COVID curve, I hope we do not flatten the global economy curve. The question is what’s the best way forward. One group recommends ‘total lockdown’ to break the transmission chain, based on evidence from China, they managed to control the spread of the virus by ruthless lock down and 3 months later they are showing that disease is controlled in Wuhan. On the other hand, the other school of thought is graded isolation & protection of elderly and very young and those with co-morbidities, let it spread amongst the young and healthy, after all the disease ultimately will be controlled when we achieve ‘herd immunity’. The medical community is divided in these two groups. To enforce complete lockdown or Graded isolation?
To complicate the issue the epidemiologists have joined the bandwagon with cacophony of statistical analysis. From Rosy to Dooms day predictions. If we don’t do a complete lockdown then a million people will die in 1 year. No, say some, more like 90 million will die in 1 year. Whose data analysis is correct? Some suggest doing nothing, nature will take over in a few months and all will be well, they quote historical data to justify their recommendations. On whose inputs should we base our disaster management strategy?
Then come the economists with their doomsday predictions. If this continues till May our medical resources will be overwhelmed, agriculture will suffer, food shortages will occur, production will come to a standstill. There will be an economic crisis of the proportions the world has not seen ever. So, break this lockdown nonsense and let’s get back to work as usual.

What will our political masters do? My guess is they will listen to medical experts, epidemiologists & economists. Then they will decide what course of action will ensure their survival, what will get them people’s votes and they will run with that. At present ‘Lockdown” finds favour with them. Boris in the UK had to abandon the recommendations of the medical community about graded response, because the people’s perception became that our Government is not doing enough to protect us citizens. That means revolt against him. So, screw it, lets go with total lockdown if that’s what the people want. Gradually people will get tired of lockdown and demand- let life go on. Then with equally convincing arguments the governments will say the time has now come to lift the blockade, we have controlled the contagion, we have won. Unfortunately, the costs in either case will be huge, both lives and money!

Incidentally the Protagoras Paradox has not been resolved to date. Students in Law school still hold mock trials and give arguments on both sides. With out any resolution of the dispute.

I give up – I can make no sense of what is happening in the world right now. Perhaps Wonder Woman is right: only love can truly save the world.

 

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Physical distancing, Social Togetherness #LockDownSA Day 8

Day 8 LockDown

3 April 2020

1462 cases
Recovered: 31
Deceased: 5

When lockdown started, we were already as a family semi-locked down. The schools closed a couple of days before, and I stayed away from public spaces and with the twins as much as possible. It seems like so far ago, and I remember getting my mindset all optimistic and positive about all the unfinished projects that we can finally complete. New hobbies to tackle, maybe learn a new language. An opportunity for mental self-enrichment and positive change.

Although we’ve done some of these, for instance I’ve become pretty proficient at crocheting circle boleros, and have made two child-sized ones already since lockdown, we’ve done some craft activities, we finally got rid of a massive and very ugly cement fountain in the middle of the staircase (next to it, like an atrium), I’m getting pretty creative in the kitchen as well, surpassing even my own expectations, it still feels as if we’re treading water. Or treading molasses. With no land in sight. Today again there was mention of maybe extending lockdown.

This morning, as I tried to figure out how to use a never before used and several years old Kenwood Mickey Mouse Slush Puppy maker (I have no idea why we own it, why we bought it, and can for the life of me not remember wanting something so frivolous in my kitchen), I was feeling an overwhelming wave of hopelessness. It is a stupid little machine, and really does not seem all that hard to figure out, but it hit me right between the eyes that there is nobody I could quickly call and ask to come over to show me. I looked online, and there was for once not one helpful video on YouTube. Eventually I figured out how to take the lid off, I chucked some ice cubes into the cavity, added some red food colouring, pressed a button, and added a couple of spoons of Oros to the shavings that came out to vaguely resemble the twins’ favourite order at John Dory’s. Needless to say, they loved it. I feel as if I survived a boxing match. Never promise children anything if you are not 100% sure you can deliver – a lesson I keep on learning.

Yesterday was a tough day for me. I write these blogs in the morning (sort of an eat that frog thing), which means I look back on a day before mostly. My mother, with whom I only recently reconciled, was admitted to hospital for a biopsy from her left breast. And with all the backlog on Covid-19 tests, apparently she’ll only have her results in two to three weeks. My mother was supposed to come and visit us now, during Easter, and obviously the lockdown put a stop to that. She had a stroke a couple of weeks ago, and my brother called me in an absolute state. It took me a while to just calm him down and explain that a stroke can be managed. The urgent biopsy on top of that was just a bit much for him. He is very close to my mother, always has been. I am the older of the two of us. My mother had undiagnosed postnatal depression when I was born, and it was tough being raised by her. There was a lot of abuse and rejection, and I was semi-removed from her care and put in the school hostel during the week at the age of 10, and eventually completely removed and taken to a different town altogether when I turned 15. Social Services was involved for most of my life as a child, either to feed us, give us clothes, provide counselling or take care of me until the day I turned 18. My mother seems not to remember much of those years, and I have moved on. Life is short, and we can either let our past overwhelm us, or we can learn from it.

Last night I had an overwhelming urge to watch a couple of natural disaster movies. We ended up watching The Day After Tomorrow, and 2012. Suddenly the premise of these movies seemed very real to me. I never before this virus thought that a government official would actually in real life say something like: This would never happen to us. This is happening, very much, to all of us. And as a South African, I am proud of the decisive action our President is taking. I have no idea where this action is taking us as a nation, and what it will mean for our business and many other small businesses, but action is better than a head in the sand approach.

Today I am grateful that I am surrounded by so much love. I have made peace with who I am, who I was and my life choices. If given a choice, there is nothing I would do differently in the almost 45 years on this planet – all the actions, all the choices, everything, has made me who I am and brought me to this day. Life has been an interesting ride so far, and if all is not ok, it is definitely not the end yet.

 

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Physical distancing, Social Togetherness #LockDownSA Day 7

Day 7 LockDown

2 April 2020

1 380 cases
Recovered: 31
Deceased: 5

Day 7 today, a whole week of the surreal new normal. Sometimes I feel detached, as if I am watching myself in a movie, or if I am having a dream from which I can wake up any minute.

When I studied NLP, one of the basic foundations we were taught, is that it takes 21 days to rewire your brain and your thought patterns. Initial lockdown is planned to be 21 days. I can’t help but wonder what we are going to be like as a people when we emerge from our confinement after all this. What will the changes mean in our actions hereafter?

For me, lockdown is much appreciated extra time with my children and my pets. I have never had the opportunity to just sit with my twins, with nowhere to rush off to, no meeting, no project, no photoshoot, no office. Just sit with them and read, or do an activity. Also my pets – just to share time and love with them. My cats don’t quite know what to do with me around them all day, but my dogs are having a ball.

I find that the office is becoming less and less of a reality. My daughter asked me this morning why I am wearing my sleepy clothes. “It is wakey time, Mommy, you must put on your wakey time dress.” I haven’t worn “wakey time” clothing since I had to go shopping for us for essentials a few days ago. And even then, I just put on what I had to, because I needed to take it off immediately when I got home anyway to sanitise myself before coming into our main living areas.

Work for me now is getting the motivation together to close my home office door so that I can focus as much as I can on whatever my tasks for the day is. I find I have to check a few times to make sure where I am in the week, as the days sort of just flow into each other. I limit my time on social media, because the negativity is deafening. There is nothing I can do about the rule-breakers, I can only focus on doing the best I can to obey the regulations.

I look around me, at the enormous space we have, and I think of how we lived when I grew up. We were two kids and four adults (my mom, my aunt and my grandparents), staying in a two-bedroom flat in someone’s backyard. We were lucky, as the main house’s back gate was our front gate, and we looked upon a street. We shared a bedroom with my mother, and my aunt slept on the couch in the lounge. Sometimes we’d swop if I fell asleep on the couch. Sometimes I just wanted a bit of privacy, and I’d pretend to be asleep. My grandparents would turn the couch around with me on it, so that the back of it was between me and the television set. But I grew up listening to Dallas. I always had a bit of a soft spot for JR Ewing.

Drinking water meant going out to the yard and hanging onto the pump arm. Up and down, up and down, with a trickle of water slowly filling a bucket. Hot water meant a fire in the donkey. It got really really hot, and we learnt quickly not to touch it or go close to it. Cleaning it out the next day before we wanted to take a bath was really a huge mission. Sometimes there would still be glowing red coals. We were not allowed to put water on it, and had to just leave it to cool down naturally.

My grandfather did not handle small spaces well. He’d pace up and down on the sidewalk in front of the gate, singing silly little ditties to pass the time. It irritated my grandmother beyond measure, and she’d call him to come inside repeatedly. He would reluctantly come and sit on his favourite armchair, and call me over to listen to some music with him. Demis Roussos, Bobby Angel, Nana Moskourri – he lovingly handled his records, and allowed me to put them back into their sleeves when done. Sometimes he’d tell us a story, but he would never answer any questions about the war. Those stories were not for children, he insisted. After school came out, we’d run home and sit at his feet and listen to stories on Springbok Radio. My favourite was “Wolwedans in die Skemer”.

Today, when my children want fizzy drinks or coffee, for me it is a no-brainer and an obvious no. Yet, when we grew up, our go-to drinks were either water from the pump outside, or hot coffee from the Hart kettle on the anthracite stove. The coffee was my grandfather’s pride and joy. He’d clean the filter bag once a week, but the rest of the week, the kettle stood in its spot, and the water would just get topped up when it got low, and more and more coffee added to the filter bag. That coffee was strong as anything. Those are the smells I will always associate with my grandfather – Koffiehuis and Rum&Maple tobacco for his pipe.

My aunt, well, that’s another story all by itself. She was allegedly dropped on her head as a baby, and she never quite recovered. She’d sit and hum under her breath, rocking like a baby, or do some sort of craft, like macrame or crochet. The items she made were gorgeous, and she’d give them away as gifts to everyone she saw. She loved hugs, and she didn’t understand the concept of personal space. She really wanted to be very close to anyone. When she walked, it was with a funny gait, with wide legs and long strides, and she’d rock side to side as she moved forward. I’m ashamed to admit that I never understood her as a child, and I felt humiliated that everyone knew she was my aunt. People would point at her and laugh when she went outside.

Here, today, I am grateful that we are able to be together during lockdown, in a comfortable space, with enough to eat and more than enough to do. I am grateful that we are all healthy, whole and able to do what we want within the perimeter of our property. I am grateful that we have a library full of books downstairs, internet connectivity to access information and entertainment, and a pantry stocked with the necessary items to have fun experimenting in the kitchen. We can do this.

 

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Physical distancing, Social Togetherness #LockDownSA Day 6

Day 6 LockDown

1 April 2020

1 353 cases
Recovered: 31
Deceased: 5

Today is April 1st, traditionally at our offices an opportunity to find a close enough to reality and believable, yet way out there narrative that turns out to be a huge joke.

But today I do not feel funny at all. I considered staying offline today, because some April Fools jokes trigger me at the best of times. After three miscarriages the fake pregnancy announcements are everything but funny. And today, with our company’s future and the future of our team that works for us so very uncertain, I wasn’t looking forward to some of the jokes people consider funny.

For instance, there is a joke floating around about a government grant payout for every person over 18. How is potential income funny in a time when so many breadwinners are unable to put even the necessities on the table?

None of our agency clients have any “funnies” scheduled for today. Best is to be sensitive right now, and we already learnt with our Earth Hour posts that people have no tolerance at the moment for anything that upsets the delicate equilibrium that has become our existence.

I find the profiteering hard to understand during these times. It is one thing to live in a free market economy, when goods and services are readily available, and there is choice on the consumer’s side regarding purchases. But there are shortages and real needs, and yet essential products at some stores are price-hiked to unbelievable profit margins.

For me, keeping busy helps staying sane. I have not spent so much time in a kitchen since I owned a restaurant many years ago. Our fridge is packed to capacity with baked goods, with cooked meals, with snacks. I am doing my best to control screen time for the twins, by doing craft activities during the day and also just leaving them to get bored and find stuff for themselves to do. I am crocheting and reading, I am painting and building puzzles. I don’t do well with so much leisure time – I have always been a bit of a workaholic. It feels as if I am slacking, as if I should be doing more to work on our business.

On a different note, apparently the fuel price dropped today (timing immaculate as per usual) with an unprecedented R1.70 per litre. I found myself musing if I should go fill up my car, and then thought again…

 

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Physical distancing, Social Togetherness #LockDownSA Day 5

Day 5 LockDown

31 March 2020

1 326 cases
Recovered: 31
Deceased: 3

Working from home seems like a dream come true, but in reality it comes with a plethora of challenges. First and foremost my twins. They are not used to being at home all the time, and certainly not having mommy at home all to themselves all the time. They are demanding, noisy, playful and want attention. All. The. Time.

It is challenging to call clients with loud children’s voices in the background. I am struggling to hear my clients, and the twins don’t understand when I am busy on the phone, I am working. They want to be part of the conversation. “Mommy, who are you talking to?”

It is challenging to work on my machines – the twins want to type on the keyboard, watch anything on either my phone or youtube, and generally don’t want me in the office at all. At home usually means playtime or storytime, and they just don’t get the shifted routine.

It is challenging to focus to do research for ourselves, on behalf of clients, on current solutions, on future solutions, on any solutions. The twins are relentless in their pursuit of my time, and my attention.

Then, my cats and dogs. Not as challenging – the cats at least are pretty soundless and I’ve now confined them to the catio, but the barking! Between the twins shouting and the dogs barking, I am trying to find a way to have conference meetings that have some sort of structure to them.

It is very challenging to have to go out (have now been out twice, feeling very badass and as if I need a German Shepherd by my side, and a stick of some sort), because I have never gone out without taking the twins with me, and now I have to leave them behind, tearful and angry at me.

Last night our President addressed us again as a nation. He looks tired, but he is strong in his resolve. He pleads that we stick to the lockdown rules, that we hold the line. In our country, although some of us have been staying home for longer than lockdown (our children’s school closed some time ago already, and I’ve only been going out when necessary since then), our government payouts only happened yesterday, which means our actual countrywide lockdown only started today. Privilege is even more apparent now than ever, and it is heartbreaking.

The Covid-19 spread is growing exponentially, which is really really hard to understand because of the speed at which it grows. The best way the mind-boggling figures make sense to me, is when I think of an old fable I read many years ago. I found a recent explanation of it here. A great emperor offered the inventor of chess any reward that he wanted. The inventor asked that a single grain of rice be placed on the first square of the chessboard. Then two grains on the second square, four grains on the third, and so on. Doubling each time. The king, baffled by such a small price for a wonderful game, immediately agreed, and ordered the treasurer to pay the agreed upon sum. A week later, the inventor went before the king and asked why he had not received his reward. The king, outraged that the treasurer had disobeyed him, immediately summoned him and demanded to know why the inventor had not been paid. The treasurer explained that the sum could not be paid – by the time you got even halfway through the chessboard, the amount of grain required was more than the entire kingdom possessed. So initially, Covid-19 infection figures look deceptively small, but with exponential growth, it is tough to guess which way the graph is going. Here’s a pretty cool video that illustrates how it works.

And then lastly for today, there’s this:

The acclaimed Italian novelist Francesca Melandri, who has been under lockdown in Rome for almost three weeks due to the Covid-19 outbreak, has written a letter to fellow Europeans “from your future”, laying out the range of emotions people are likely to go through over the coming weeks.

 

I am writing to you from Italy, which means I am writing from your future. We are now where you will be in a few days. The epidemic’s charts show us all entwined in a parallel dance.

We are but a few steps ahead of you in the path of time, just like Wuhan was a few weeks ahead of us. We watch you as you behave just as we did. You hold the same arguments we did until a short time ago, between those who still say “it’s only a flu, why all the fuss?” and those who have already understood.

As we watch you from here, from your future, we know that many of you, as you were told to lock yourselves up into your homes, quoted Orwell, some even Hobbes. But soon you’ll be too busy for that.

First of all, you’ll eat. Not just because it will be one of the few last things that you can still do.

You’ll find dozens of social networking groups with tutorials on how to spend your free time in fruitful ways. You will join them all, then ignore them completely after a few days.

You’ll pull apocalyptic literature out of your bookshelves, but will soon find you don’t really feel like reading any of it.

You’ll eat again. You will not sleep well. You will ask yourselves what is happening to democracy.

You’ll have an unstoppable online social life – on Messenger, WhatsApp, Skype, Zoom…

You will miss your adult children like you never have before; the realisation that you have no idea when you will ever see them again will hit you like a punch in the chest.

Old resentments and falling-outs will seem irrelevant. You will call people you had sworn never to talk to ever again, so as to ask them: “How are you doing?” Many women will be beaten in their homes.

You will wonder what is happening to all those who can’t stay home because they don’t have one. You will feel vulnerable when going out shopping in the deserted streets, especially if you are a woman. You will ask yourselves if this is how societies collapse. Does it really happen so fast? You’ll block out these thoughts and when you get back home you’ll eat again.

You will put on weight. You’ll look for online fitness training.

You’ll laugh. You’ll laugh a lot. You’ll flaunt a gallows humour you never had before. Even people who’ve always taken everything dead seriously will contemplate the absurdity of life, of the universe and of it all.

You will make appointments in the supermarket queues with your friends and lovers, so as to briefly see them in person, all the while abiding by the social distancing rules.

You will count all the things you do not need.

The true nature of the people around you will be revealed with total clarity. You will have confirmations and surprises.

Literati who had been omnipresent in the news will disappear, their opinions suddenly irrelevant; some will take refuge in rationalisations which will be so totally lacking in empathy that people will stop listening to them. People whom you had overlooked, instead, will turn out to be reassuring, generous, reliable, pragmatic and clairvoyant.

Those who invite you to see all this mess as an opportunity for planetary renewal will help you to put things in a larger perspective. You will also find them terribly annoying: nice, the planet is breathing better because of the halved CO2 emissions, but how will you pay your bills next month?

You will not understand if witnessing the birth of a new world is more a grandiose or a miserable affair.

You will play music from your windows and lawns. When you saw us singing opera from our balconies, you thought “ah, those Italians”. But we know you will sing uplifting songs to each other too. And when you blast I Will Survive from your windows, we’ll watch you and nod just like the people of Wuhan, who sung from their windows in February, nodded while watching us.

Many of you will fall asleep vowing that the very first thing you’ll do as soon as lockdown is over is file for divorce.

Many children will be conceived.

Your children will be schooled online. They’ll be horrible nuisances; they’ll give you joy.

Elderly people will disobey you like rowdy teenagers: you’ll have to fight with them in order to forbid them from going out, to get infected and die.

You will try not to think about the lonely deaths inside the ICU.

You’ll want to cover with rose petals all medical workers’ steps.

You will be told that society is united in a communal effort, that you are all in the same boat. It will be true. This experience will change for good how you perceive yourself as an individual part of a larger whole.

Class, however, will make all the difference. Being locked up in a house with a pretty garden or in an overcrowded housing project will not be the same. Nor is being able to keep on working from home or seeing your job disappear. That boat in which you’ll be sailing in order to defeat the epidemic will not look the same to everyone nor is it actually the same for everyone: it never was.

At some point, you will realise it’s tough. You will be afraid. You will share your fear with your dear ones, or you will keep it to yourselves so as not to burden them with it too.

You will eat again.

We’re in Italy, and this is what we know about your future. But it’s just small-scale fortune-telling. We are very low-key seers.

If we turn our gaze to the more distant future, the future which is unknown both to you and to us too, we can only tell you this: when all of this is over, the world won’t be the same.

© Francesca Melandri 2020

 

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Physical distancing, Social Togetherness #LockDownSA Day 4

Day 4 LockDown

30 March 2020

1280 cases
Recovered: 31
Deceased: 2

I find myself musing who came up with the term “lockdown”. It is a word I have never come across before that I know of, and I read fairly extensively. It feels strange to look out of the windows of our home and know that we cannot just go outside of our property. When I try to visualise the word “lockdown” I see a huge padlock and a chain, across our doors, our windows, our gates.

The world is holding its breath collectively, with everything set on pause. To me, it feels as if I am wading through molasses, unable to move quickly. My movements are languid, calculated, constrained. I am asked questions online, and I cannot come up with answers that make sense to me.

Yesterday Thomas Schaefer, the finance minister of Germany’s Hesse state, committed suicide. Apparently after he became “deeply worried” over how to cope with the economic fallout from the coronavirus. My heart breaks for him and every other person who has to deal with so much worry right now.

I find myself increasingly worrying about people who are alone during this time. I also worry about people unable to shop for themselves for essentials. The delivery services are overloaded, with some food services only able to deliver in about a week, and even more. What about people who do not have money for food, or who just cannot get to a store at all? I created a whatsapp group for people who joined who needs someone to chat to or to just check in.

Today I ventured out for the first time since we were asked to stay at home. It was not an easy decision, as my son has a compromised immune system, and I dread bringing anything home that causes harm to my children. We needed fresh fruit and vegetables, some milk and a couple more items. Doesn’t seem like much, but we really needed it, and for love or money I couldn’t find someone who could deliver to us.

Obviously we’ve been trying to explain what Covid-19 is to the twins, because they needed to understand why they cannot go to school, visit their friends, or go out. My son started crying this morning when I waved a cheery goodbye, convinced I was going to die. I was wearing my (what I thought was compulsory when we go to the grocery store) face mask, and we put clean clothes and sanitiser by the front door for when I got back. The new normal… It took a while to calm him down and tell him people are not dying, they are just sick, and I don’t want the germs to come home with me. I couldn’t remember which side of the face mask goes where, but eventually just put it on, and then realised how hot it gets when worn. So all sweaty-faced (but at least masked) I set out.

Up to when I got to the store, the streets were fairly quiet. At the store, though, it was as if everything was back to normal. Very few people wore masks, and the recommended 1m distance between customers was completely disregarded. Yellow lines at the cash registers served as a distance guide. Although there were people complaining about price hikes online with photos of products and prices, at this store prices seemed pretty normal to me, the only “strange” was that there were complete shelves stripped bare. Especially in the cold meats, frozen veg and baking sections. And the deli section for precooked meals was not operational, and no cold meats sliced on demand. There was no sign of cordoned off aisles with so-called prohibited goods. I got most of what we needed, could not find spaghetti anywhere and apparently yeast is currently worth its weight in gold and as unobtainable as the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Back home, changed clothes at front door, sanitised everything, at my desk trying to work. What will this first full week of lockdown bring? I choose to be positive – we are doing out best, and that is all we can do.