About the Author
Zack Omoro is an accomplished writer who has been published in Leading Magazines and Journals across the World.This is his Diary and Thoughts on the Covid 19 Lock down and its repercussions across Kenya.
THE LOCKDOWN CONVERSATION
Given my view that the COVID-19 crisis is an extreme form of adversity and its only our attitude toward and response towards the crisis that can either make or break our experience of it.
I am a consultant therefore within limits capable of working comfortably from home. My better half is a corporate employee retiring within the year. She had been home in the lake region following up on her retirement project she was setting up at home. Her argument was valid:
“We (Meaning, I suppose, I and her) need to start preparing relocating back home when retirement eventually happens”
Talk is easy. Re –entry back home after decades of sojourning in the city not so easy. As if on cue, the president granted her the wish and announced the sudden lockdown of Nairobi for at least three weeks when she had just dashed home for three days to monitor her projects.
Following this sudden presidential directive, my missus, found that she would be retiring home is not so interesting especially when the hubby remains in Nairobi. This is a paraphrase of the conversation we have had in the last four days:
Missus: “I am leaving home headed to Nairobi tomorrow morning ” This is said from an audibly strained voice
Me: “But why, you have only been home for two days, you are on official leave and because of the lockdown, you can’t make it back here to the city” I answer back trying to follow an interesting part in an on-going movie on Television.
Missus: “I must come”
Me: “But why the urgency, hang around until this lockdown passes.”
Missus: “Who mentioned urgency” She assaults. “Why do I have a feeling that you don’t want me back to the city?”
Me: “It is not that way, you see, even if you come, you can’t make it to the city. There are roadblocks to ensure you don’t make it”
Missus: “Were the roadblocks made for me?”
Me: “…No, but you see…”
Missus: “Are you aware that the toilet in this farm house is not flushing?
Me: “Er… I am not aware, but I hope that the pit latrine is serviceable”
Missus: Are you suggesting, I share the outside pit latrine with the farm hands?”
Me: “Why don’t you talk to Abele, he will know what to do”.
Abele is the farm manager and the odd jobs man, very dexterous with his hands.
Missus: “Call him and instruct him on the same then”
My temper is starting to rise.
“…and talk too to that government spokesperson friend of yours to organise for me to pass through the lockdown road blocks. Am coming to Nairobi tomorrow”.
She hangs up.
The conversation is forgotten as I go back to follow the series on Netflix.
Twenty four hours later, at about 9 in the night, Missus calls me again.
Missus: “Hi! Am in Nakuru, at Josephine’s place” Josephine is her sister, living in Nakuru and married to a doctor.” When are you coming to pick me” She adds.
Me: “Pick you?” I ask, puzzled.
Missus: “But you had promised you will organise for my coming to Nairobi today?”
Me: “Look, there is a lockdown”.
Missus: “Are you suggesting that you made no arrangements for me to come to Nairobi?” She takes “the pity me” route “You never bother about my requests and you know how I cannot stand David”
David is his brother in law, Josephine’s husband.
Normally, when I am stressed, a tic starts somewhere in my right eye and I suspect travels through the nerves to the heart. Because by now, I feel the tic already making a resounding tap somewhere across my brow.
I hereby declare, should I collapse and suddenly die during this quarantine period. COVID-19 is not to blame.