16 August 2021 02:30 am Views - 527
Awaiting their turn to be jabbed at Viharamahadevi park
There is such a thing as being overtaken by events. This is what’s been happening to us since the beginning of
Early in August, you could see the panic building up. Suddenly, it’s like a witch hunt, everyone you call or meet asking: “Did you get the vaccine?” When you say no, you are made to feel you are on the other side of the divide. You are a transgressor, you are being irresponsible, you come from a troublesome minority, you don’t belong – but those who say these are people whose noses almost touch you when you meet them, who get offended if you politely ask them maintain social distance, people who don’t carry a bottle of sanitizer with them.
The announcements sounded hysterical. One morning, a municipal worker knocked at the gate with a form from the provincial council. It’s a census of every household, and you have to jot down who’s vaccinated and who’s not. That was ominous. The same evening, one Sinhala radio station announced that the ‘civic police’ (praja polis), accompanied by public health inspectors, will start rounding up those who haven’t been vaccinated in Colombo, starting with the over 60 group, and take them to the Sugathadasa stadium to be vaccinated.
" Suddenly, it’s like a witch-hunt, everyone you call or meet asking: “Did you get the vaccine?” When you say no, you are made to feel you are on the other side of the divide."
It sounded like Gotterdammerung, or the Final Solution. It’s unconstitutional to take people forcibly to be vaccinated. But, knowing just how much the constitution is respected in this country, I called a reliable source in the police department and asked him if the police have received instructions and orders to that effect. He replied negatively, but urged me to get vaccinated just the same.
I called a municipal doctor who is part of the current vaccination programme and asked the same question. His reply embarrassed me a great deal:
“Aren’t you a journalist? Where in the world can they take people forcefully from their homes to be vaccinated?”
I could have mentioned a number of countries where, theoretically and in actual fact, people could be taken away forcefully for any number of reasons as a matter of course. I could also have mentioned a number of journalists from this country who are now in their graves (some of them unmarked) for the crime of going against the political wisdom prevailing at the time. But I knew that the doctor was highly stressed and working through exhaustion. He told me that the wife of one of his drivers was quite ill, but unable to get leave to go home. One nurse engaged in vaccinating people was beginning to show the symptoms. His office had been out of the first vaccine for almost two weeks. New stocks were arriving the day after, he expected pandemonium at the gate and was mentally preparing himself for the deluge. I didn’t have the heart to reply his question, and simply wished him luck.
We all need luck to get through the coming months – not just to survive the Delta, Lambda or whatever strain, but to live through shortages, hardships, stress and mortal fear. The vaccines will undoubtedly help people medically, and also psychologically. It doesn’t make anyone watertight against the virus, but it will mitigate the suffering and improve one’s chances of survival (according to the Guardian UK, half of Covid 19 cases coming to hospitals have been vaccinated. But severe symptoms are mitigated and the death rate is lower).
No one knows about long term side effects. But no one is in a position right now to think years ahead (unless you are someone like Jeff Bezos, I suppose). It’s a question of surviving from day today under the virus Blitz.
Once vaccinated, you ‘belong’ once again. We are coming to a point where daily life is going to be enormously restricted without the vaccine certificate. This is what made me go to Viharamahadevi park last week to join the vaccine queue. A friend told me go at starting time (7 am) as there would be less people. There was already a standing crowd when I got there.
"I told the man behind me politely to maintain social distancing. He glared and told me to move ahead. I asked the man in front, and he told me to step back"
A military policeman told us to queue up, and disappeared. To my alarm, the man in front and the one behind were very close. I told the man behind me politely to maintain social distancing. He glared and told me to move ahead. I asked the man in front, and he told me to step back. This was going nowhere, and a good way to get infected. I decided to go home and try my luck at night.
I went back there after dinner, prepared for the long haul. The queue stretched right through the park, end to end. There was no social distancing. If there had been, the queue would have extended all the way to Kollupitiya or Maradana. I had taken three books to read, water, a flask of coffee and a Montessori chair to sit on. As we were along the park’s bicycle track which was lit, I could sit and read. When we got to the dark stretches, I used a flashlight.
Eventually, my flashlight conked out. I kept reading when there was light, and listening to FM radio with my phone when it got dark. Many people sat on the grass, rejoining the queue as it moved ahead in fits and starts. It didn’t move at all for half an hour.
I began thinking of that radio news broadcast warning people over 60 not vaccinated yet would be taken from their homes and given the vaccine. It’s unlikely that the station made it up. Some authority would have given them the news. This is highly irresponsible, and amounts to arm twisting. The government is desperate to open the country for tourism by September. This is now highly unlikely, but it obviously clings to that hope, and wants to get everyone vaccinated as soon as possible.
This is a laudable goal. But to think that 100% vaccination means a sudden, drastic drop in the infection rate is wishful thinking. That will take some time. Facing this crisis, it’s obvious that we don’t have enough nurses to vaccinate millions of people in such a short time. You don’t need statistics to know this. Just look at the queues. All queues are the result of shortages.
I was lucky, I was there for just six hours. I stood in that queue because, during my previous visit to the same venue, I had the impression that there wasn’t a separate line for those over 60, which surprised me. All you have to do is to put up a signboard. There was one for the disabled, but none for the over 60s. Luckily, the man standing behind told that to me around 5 am. So I was able to cut short my waiting time. When I called this man later, he said he got the jab at nine am. He had waited for nine hours. Also, by the time he got to the vaccination centre, an announcer said those under thirty would not be vaccinated. Too bad for all those youngsters who had spent a night in the park.
The male nurse did an efficient job. I hardly felt anything. Now, it’s a question of getting the second, and the certificate. But they are already talking of a third. Is there a choice in the matter? Or would they make it mandatory for the certificate? This is like a Ray Bradbury nightmare coming true. The government talks of people’s health and welfare, but it’s fighting for its own survival, and we are pawns in this deadly game.
I gave my chair to the man behind me, and he said he gifted it to someone else. I can forget that. Compared to what I have lost over 17 months of the pandemic, it’s really nothing.