Corona Diary – Day 1

Monday, 30th March, 2020.
I’m breathing fine. Not wounded or battling with my health, not in a condition to see my state of well-being hang on a balance between life and death because of the Wuhan disease COVID-19. I see on the news what’s happening in Spain and Italy and the United States of America and in the U.K, and all other parts of the world. I see it. It still feels unreal. It feels somewhat strange because I do not know the name of one single soul out of the many thousands who have suffered, fought to breathe and live, but then, have in the same vein had to watch and wait in pain and grieve as this disease with ease, continue to snatch them from their loved ones as it pleases.
A biological weapon? An experiment gone wrong? Wild animal market, bats and pangolins or the hand of God? Whatever the cause, it has birthed a global pandemic, such as I have never witnessed before.

I’m breathing fine. It’s Day 1 of Lagos state’s compulsory lockdown, yet, I’m bouncing in my house. I skipped my morning meal because I was too busy working and planning for life after COVID-19.
I’m convinced this will pass.
I have hope.
Lucky me. Am I not blessed?
And today, more bodies would burn, not by accident or some kind of arson, but by this evil, this chimera, this plague…this nasty killing microorganism…sadly, it has a beautiful name. Are they not as blessed as I think I am?

I am breathing fine. Very happy that my girlfriend calls from time to time. She misses me dearly and says she loves me every day, every time.
I wonder how much of missing there’d be for the loved ones, now departed and if the shed tears would fall and wet the ground or flow and make a river. If more people would die, if there would be more hand waves and wet eyes and painful goodbyes…I’m still wondering. What it would look like tomorrow or a month from now, when this will end and how it ends, I wonder still.

I am breathing fine, watching once busy streets get deserted.
Laughing at the ill-fated ones get dealt with by soldiers because they cannot comprehend this awesome boredom caused by the lockdown—I doubt they are aware it is for their safety- for our collective safety.
I’m strolling this vast compound space under the heat of the afternoon sun, counting my strides and bopping my head to the music in my head, with little care in the world because I’ve had a bath and my hands are sanitized.
Am I not special? Special than the handsome twenty-five-year-old soon to be doctor who succumbed to this lung attacker.
Wasn’t he special too?

I am breathing fine. Praying that this ends quickly. Wondering if I may catch the disease and what would become of me—of us, if we all contracted it in the end. Wondering if the average Nigerian hustler can survive the remaining days of the lockdown or if the less privileged would break this rule and risk their lives—our lives, because of the hunger in their bellies, or if they’d beg from house to house or sit it out…would their well-to-do neighbours be so kind to offer bread? Would they?

I’m breathing fine. God has given me another day to start again. Another day to breathe free air in the comfort of my home, to plan and prepare for what is next and pray for mercy and grace on my planet—earth. To appreciate my life and connect more with my loved ones. To do what I can when I can…if I can, because life is fleeting.
What if this ends tomorrow? What if it never ends? God rest the soul of the departed. God comfort us all in this trying time.
I saw how Corona began. I hope to witness its end.
Seun Afolabi.