Day 55 of lockdown in South Africa and nothing seems to be getting any better.
I want to eloquently put into words how I am currently feeling, but the truth is there is less poise and more emptiness. Since my last post, I had to return to Johannesburg as my sector opened up as per the level 4 regulations and we started fasting for the month of Ramadaan. The journey back across four provinces felt positively dystopian and I felt like an (albeit permit carrying) fugitive as we passed the checkpoints in the dead of night.
The new normal means a temperature gun to my head every alternate morning, a general acceptance of foggy glasses and elbowing the elevator button. It also means, I don’t know when will be the next time I am going to see my family and friends again.
It feels selfish to be in a position of privilege, I thank Allah for not being subject to pay cuts or being put on forced paid leave, but I feel undeserving. Why should I be so lucky to have money in my bank account and food on my table in extreme abundance, in wasteful abundance when there are so many mouths to feed? It gnaws at me as I swiftly decide to donate money to those more deserving in the least intimate, contactless way possible: EFT.
I miss a time more precendented. A time we may never get back. My 20’s feel stolen from me as I pretend I am okay and put on the cheerful smile that is hidden by a piece of 3 ply (incl slot for a filter) cloth.
Social distancing has created a distance within myself, a distance from reality. As we connect to more zoom calls, the further the disconnect in my mind is amplified. I am merely here, day after day. Breathing what might likely be infectious air( P.S I KNOW THE VIRUS ISN’T AIRBORNE), anticipating presidential addresses and complaining about the western cape. At the start, I was that person sprouting of facts and statistics and eagerly awaiting updates of numbers across the world and now, I feel indifferent.
The tune of Zain Bhikha’s Eid-un Sa’Eid plays on in my head, Ramadaan has come and (almost) gone. We are preparing for an Eid like no other, one without family, one without the freedom to pray together, most importantly: one without the envelopes of Eidee’ in your hand.
First Ramadan we’re locked up before Shaytaan🥴— yusuf (@yussz88) April 7, 2020
I accept the fact that this is the way life is. I accept the fact that I can do nothing about it and I accept the fact that I am now my work team’s on call I.T personnel.
This post is nothing more than the title, a blur. It has no deeper underlying meaning or coherent flow of thought. It is just as I am, It just is a pandemic-ally obscured blur.