Johannesburg 27/03/2020 🇿🇦
Lockdown Diary: Day 1
South Africa holds its breath
Disclaimer: I’m not a journalist, or an analyst, or even a social commentator. I’m just a dude who likes to write, locked down in a fairly affluent suburb of a wildly unequal city, in an incredibly complex country. This is just a diary. You might think it’s shit, or not that accurate, or not at all representative of the general experience. That’s cool. In fact, I’d be surprised if you didn’t think it was at least one of those things. Bet you’re excited now, huh?
Friday, 27 March 2020 | Randburg, South Africa
First morning of lockdown and I’m feeling pretty positive. Then South Africa’s first deaths from the virus are reported — and just to drive it home, the number of confirmed cases rushes past the 1000 mark. Off to a flyer.
I’m able to dial down the anxiety easily enough though; I’m working from home for a company that makes it easy to do so; the fridge is stocked; the coffee’s strong; and my beautiful fiancè and I are healthy and safe.
But then I think about the vast swathes of the population who aren’t so lucky. I wonder how they’ll cope and, selfishly, what it means for the rest of us if they can’t. Did people really have fucking lockdown parties last night? Shit.
Have to put that all that aside though and get some urgent UX-ing done. No problems there, except our mobile internet connection is buckling under the weight of all the huge files and video calls. Should have gone with fiber. Oh, and my back is killing me. Really missing that sweet, sweet adjustable office chair.
Eventually, I take a break. Over in the lounge, Nicola has shifted the coffee table into the corner of the room. That, plus her quarantine-chic active-wear outfit, can only mean one thing. Loungercise. I accept her kind offer to join in, and together we crush a 30 min HIIT exercise, courtesy of Candice Bodington. Yeah, Bodington.
When I say crush, I mean we end the video after 15 min — me exhausted and Nicola injured. Gotta give it to Candibod though, it’s a great workout. And the endorphins really help to quell the sense of impending doom. Still, it’s a far cry from footie, or squash, or even going for a run.
It’s hard not to feel like I’m missing out on things like that. I feel guilty about it. I don’t need to look at the news to know how privileged I am, even under lockdown. But still, wish I could have a kick-around.
Speaking of news, SA Twitter is a minefield where almost every conversation that goes on long enough seems to devolve (or evolve, depending on your point of view) into one about race. Business as usual then.
I did learn some things from it though. Namely that Edcon (and perhaps the whole economy) is up shit’s creek, some places are easy to lock down, and at least some members of the army were serious about skopping n donnering. Jeepers.
That’s it for Day 1. It’s Friday night after all. Time to go out. Of this room.
Till next time.
