Day 3/21 and other thoughts...

Rustum, an English major and a friend, says to me, “Motsweng, you have a voice man – write in the first person”. He then tells me about the “Dagga stories”. I read the stories and I sort of get what he meant about having a voice. Unrelated to all that, he goes on and on about how I should stop justifying the margins when I write. Said something about it being difficult to read en wat ook al. Ease of reading must be a big deal for him, after all that is how he pays for his roll-it-yourself smokes. I pay for my LPs and stuff by practicing law. Unjustified margins in our writing is not the thing to do. I have often (that’s a long time ago) immediately on receipt of a draft from a colleague, justified the margins before reading the draft or anything. I mean, who sends out a draft like that? I would hiss under my breath. All the while, I continued to split the infinitives for dramatico-legal effect.

This is how conversation with Rustum always go. The one moment we are talking about the kindness and generosity he showed my family by making that amazing curry. He was not particularly happy with that pot. He promised there would be another one, the next time he is in town. The next moment we have a crazy lag about soft Cape Town rain and a certain whisky, or is that whiskey? Now, we have to factor in the lockdown and inter-provincial travel bans. Back then, we were going to make it a point we see each other whenever we happen to be in each other’s city. Alas, we are in lockdown.

It is only day 3 of 21. So far, if Twitter and the news channels are to be believed, there are people who still want to carry on with their lives. I try to not look at the statistics anymore. All I think of is how horrible it is going to get, a month or so from now. A beloved tells me over the telephone yesterday, “out there in the rurals of the North-West, people are going on about their business as if there is no lock-down, corona or any of those city people things.” It is going to be bad; she says. We both express a hope that by some miracle, the ignorant and the arrogant are spared. I am fortunate, really fortunate. I generally spend a lot of time at home. By choice mainly. Being at home has become easier over the years. Fifteen or so years ago, I would be struggling. I am at home. More than that I am at home with my parents. They are well even as they are both dealing with illness that need attention. I am lucky to have them.

I am spending a lot of time wondering about other places and other people. I wonder about my home in Ikageng; about my relatives and relations elsewhere. My boss, partner, lover, friend and wife has been nothing but stellar. That is when she is not annoyed to tears by me and my complicated issues. We get frustrated and a little drunk together, often not only during lock-down. We both “see” the shit that is going to hit us. Privately, we hope this pass soon and without much drama (as she would put it). We have plans, you know? Time bound plans. She’s excited that I sat down to write this morning. I am terrified. She is my worst critic and greatest fan. Confidence is in short supply these days. Thank the universe that truth and vulnerability supply has increased. I am scared and excited and it’s ok with me that I have no cooking clue.

This pandemic is a great opportunity for humanity. Unfortunately, the systems that we believe in will not let us take the opportunity and run with it. I grew up in an era where money was important but not essential. My life with both parents working did not change that much when my father was retrenched. Life carried on and needs were met. My children are growing up (to be fair, two are pretty much all grown) in an era where if you do not have money you are pretty much screwed. It pains me to accept that it is a life I chose for them. Now we are here. Growing up, our biggest fear was the system, the police and the comrades. Now, our biggest fear is not having an income. This drives everything. We worship our jobs, our source of income even as they suck joy out of our lives. We deride and spit on those that do not have, and we even offer explanation why they are in those circumstances.

So, on this day 3 of 21, I am thinking, writing and trying to access my voice; and not justifying the margins. Rustum has a point, the police will harass the living shit out of you and kick you in the stomach, because you are poor and do not have the means to kick them back. You may have seen scenes of police ordering people to get inside their homes. These are people who are in their yards, behind closed gates. Then there are the runners, dog walkers and those spotted on some estate playing golf. She (partner, boss, friend, etc.) just walked in and showed me a clip of some guy in what looks like “an informal settlement” asking the police what lockdown means for them in that squalor. “We all go to that same toilet…” he says to the policeman pointing out the mobile toilet.

Are we not better off locking down the epicentres of this pandemic and prohibiting Yusuf and reporters from roaming the streets of the poor and vulnerable? Oh, there is that worry of what the police and the army would do if not watched and recorded on smartphones. It is day 3 of 21 and city people chose to go home. The lockdown and containment of the spread of the virus is crucial. It helps that people stay home. There are a great number of people who cannot stay home. I am not here talking about the essential service providers. People who do not have a home to stay at, people whose only relief is to be outside, on the streets. People who live with people who beat and violate them. How can we make the lockdown to work for those South Africans too?

Let’s see how all of this pans out. The universe is shaking us by the scruff of our necks to change, we are putting measures in place to keep things the same. Those countries that chose to nationalise all private medical facilities, may you have the fortitude and common sense never to revert to private health care.

I can’t help but wonder where I would be by day 21. Where the world will be then. Will everything continue to be done or conceived from the point of view of those with the means and the access?