South African Corona Lockdown Days 9 and 27

                                             Written 04 & 22 April 2020

Day 9 of our country’s national lockdown aimed at flattening the curve of Coronavirus infections.

I have been journalling extensively, throughout the lockdown period, but for some reason or other, haven’t been blogging.  Well, one of the reasons is that our internet connectivity came to an abrupt end 8 days ago and I’ve been struggling with various attempts at sorting this out. The irony is that, so much can go wrong with trying to set up technology, the purpose of which is to make life easier!

I keep asking myself what the lesson is I’m supposed to be learning.

Like everyone else, I’m trying to navigate my way through this unprecedented national lockdown. Like so many others, I’ve become painfully aware of how dire the impact of this lockdown is for the majority of South Africans – people who barely exist below the poverty line. The majority of South Africans don’t earn a monthly salary and lead stunted, poverty-stricken lives; those who are lucky enough to be employed eke out an existence on weekly wages, piecemeal jobs or work in the informal sector, selling things in busy public spaces. Millions of South Africans depend on social grants, to survive.

This lockdown period is life-altering for all of us, but, for the most vulnerable in our society, it’s devastating.

Another stark realisation that has hit many of us, during this time, is that we are, indeed, privileged. As a friend of mine put it, “If at any given time you have a week’s food in your home, you’re privileged.”

While many were dismayed at being told not to stockpile – a directive blatantly ignored by many (I’ll mention my mixed feelings about this later) – for the majority of our citizens, this was not even an option, as the meagre household income is just enough to buy groceries for a short period.

So, about the stockpiling – I can understand why people did this, as the overriding instruction at that same time, was to stay home for 21 days. Buying in bulk meant you wouldn’t have to leave home to do shopping. Unfortunately, what it did was empty shelves, as most suppliers hadn’t prepared for the onslaught, which then caused hardship for those who came after the bulk buyers. I do think that, because of the unprecedented nature of the lockdown, most people went into panic mode and what unfortunately surfaces, at those times, is unbridled selfishness. Really regrettable, as most of the bulk buyers were vehicle owners who would’ve been able to get back to the shops much more easily than poorer people who’d have to rely on public transport.   

Wed. 22 April (Day 27)

Those first 9 days, staying home was a novelty. We made daily To Do lists and tackled things around the house that we’d been putting off for a while. I’d bought a vacuum cleaner a few days before lockdown and for the first time in ages we could vacuum the house, instead of sweeping the carpeted floor with a hard broom.

The sun shone brightly (it was late March, so still warm), which added to the feeling of happiness  - we didn’t have to get up at 5:30 in the morning, do the  morning routine and then sit in snail-paced  traffic for more than an hour, I didn’t have to sit in an air-conditioned office doing what I’d always thought could’ve been done from home (with a few exceptions) and didn’t have to sit in snail-paced evening traffic for anything from an hour to two hours, to get home. Incidentally, I work about 20km from home – an easy 20-minute drive, when there’s no traffic. 

Another thing I did, just before the lockdown started, was buy wool to crochet a blanket for my daughter. I let her choose the colours, and I excitedly started the blanket the same day I bought the wool. The blanket is about 60% done and I’m about to run out of wool. Tomorrow night, President Ramaphosa is going to announce the plan for the gradual reopening of the economy. I somehow doubt my wool shop will be opening anytime before July.  The last blanket I made was about 19 years ago. That was the divorce blanket. I suppose this one’s the Corona blanket. Seems like it takes a crisis to get me to create a blanket. If you’re someone who’s ever knitted or crocheted, you’ll know how therapeutic the repetitive motion is. It’s soothing, like a lullaby. I love the fact that this blanket will go with my daughter when she leaves home to live independently, and that it will outlive me and become part of my legacy. Once this one’s done, I’ll buy wool for my third blanket, which will be for my son. And where’s the first blanket? Happily on my bed! 😊    

                                        Blanket No. 1  - made about 19 years ago. 

Something else we did, ahead of the lockdown, was visit the local plant nursery and buy plants and compost.  Early on during lockdown, we worked in the garden. That’s also very therapeutic.

I don’t think we fully understood the scale or ramifications of the global pandemic we were asked to stay home for, in those first 9 days. Today is Day 27, we’re in the first extension of the lockdown, and we’re acutely aware that returning to normal is not going to happen for some time - at least the next three months. What this means for various aspects of our lives, only time will reveal. Each of us has to cope as best we can, learn whichever lessons we’re meant to, and never stop believing that the lockdown will eventually end, we will see and hug our loved ones again, and we will regain the freedom we once took for granted. 

                                             Blanket No. 2 - more than halfway done.

What I have concluded is that life, the way it was, couldn’t go on. Not just for us personally, but especially politically. For too long, the poor had remained marginalised, struggling to survive, dealing with all kinds of abuse,  the most profound of which was systemic. Last night, President Ramaphosa announced sweeping measures to bring relief to the poor.  Never before has South Africa done this, on this scale - not even under the presidency of Nelson Mandela, a man credited with bringing about peaceful (well, not that peaceful) change, taking our country out of apartheid and into ‘the new South Africa’.  That was in 1994 - 26 years ago. For most South Africans, nothing changed – they were poor then, and they remained poor, with NO MEANINGFUL INTERVENTION from government. It took a global pandemic, a virus that starts off like the flu and could potentially kill you, a virus for which there’s currently no vaccine, to change the way our government looked at its citizens. Whichever way you look at it, the Coronavirus pandemic of 2020 will go down in history as having sparked massive socio-political change in South Africa.

I’m keen to see how our country sustains these initiatives and what the longer-term implications are.