Corona has robbed me of something precious

There are so many things I miss about being free. Number one is being free. More succinctly, having the freedom to decide where and when to go. I mean, yes, I can roam across the Nairobi metropolis from dawn till dusk, but it’s not the same knowing that 7pm must find me in the house.

Just the thought that I can’t break curfew, or leave the city limits is giving me serious anxiety. My mind is dealing with this anxiety by keeping me awake all night, and then groggy all day. It’s some kind of idiosyncratic ‘stay-home’ remedy.

Even If I wanted to leave the house during the day, it would take too much psychic energy. On the odd occasion when I do find the energy to brave this new corona world, the masks that we now have to wear are a constant reminder that life is supported by oxygen. Funny how you only realise how necessary breathing is when every breath feels like it’s coming from the bottom of a clogged straw. God have mercy.

Then there’s the incessant sanitising, hand-washing, and social distancing. Ugh. And before you go off on me for being an undisciplined Kenyan, I’m just telling you what I feel.

I’m sure many people have it much worse, but sometimes circumstances are such that you can only speak to your own reality. Still, I’m pretty sure that we’re all feeling a bit cooped up, like we’re sitting on a hot news story but haven’t been allowed to read the paper. It’s maddening.

Maddening but not life-threatening. My anxiety is a bonafide mental health issue but worse things could happen. For some people, anxiety is just one of the by-products of extreme poverty and desperation. These are the people who don’t have the luxury to write about their feelings. The people who are – quite rightly – more concerned with survival than low-grade existentialism. Which is not to say that one suffering is greater than the other, rather, that one is more pressing.

But as I say, there are many things that I miss about being free. One is being around the people I love. Note, these are the same people I would ghost for weeks on end because, hey, I’m an 'introvert'. Another is living without the fear of death. I also miss setting my own timetable instead of fitting my schedule around the daily Ministry of Health press briefings.

Yes, I know. They are supposed to reassure. I don’t know about you, but for me there’s nothing reassuring about a daily death toll, and the assurance that more deaths will come. Especially when there is such a massive lag between the ministry’s talk and the government’s walk.

I hear talk of free, government-issue sanitisers but I haven’t come across any. And I know that many doctors are on the frontline, working without personal protective equipment. Plus, Kenyans still have to buy their own masks.

All this while the government accumulates billions of shillings in its Covid-19 response fund. Why lie, I’ve been forced to come face-to-face with a naiveté that has continually misled me into hoping for the best, even while dealing with a leadership construct that has never been people-driven.

Oh, well. That’s one thing I do not miss. That thing that passes for good leadership in this country. The disregard that officials have for the citizenry. And perhaps most of all – the politics. If I did not see another political headline for as long as I live, it would be too soon. In fact, this is a prime opportunity for headline writers and their ilk to take a hold of the national narrative and mould it in the image of the people.

Defining moment

Surely, we cannot go back to Ruto this, Uhuru that, Raila the other thing. Especially when the press, as the purveyors of information, have the attention of the entire globe. We are living through a pandemic, for crying out loud. This is a defining moment in the history of the world. A time that is ripe for a break from the ‘same old, same old’.

Yes, I know there is a clamour to ‘open countries’ and economies, reboot stock markets, get consumers buying again, and revert to business as usual. But to be honest, what has passed will never be again. This is a new reality, and a fresh opportunity for media folk to define the world as ordinary people would have it be.

A world where leaders serve and citizens are productive. Not just for themselves, or for the enrichment of the so-called ‘captains of industry’, but for the benefit of every woman, child and man.

Ms Masiga is Peace and Security editor, The Conversation