Life with Covid in Town

If you’re a reader of this blog, you’ve noticed that I’ve stepped up my blogging. Part of it is that I was behind my normal pace of documenting some of the major things going on in my life. Part of it is that this is an unprecedented time that we are in and I feel that it is important that we record what is going on through my own experiences.

I regret not doing this more over the years. I think back to some big things that happened. I remember man going to the moon and Watergate as a child. Okay, so I wasn’t much of a writer back then but it would have been good (would still be good) at some point to write up how I experienced those events. Later in life I had a traumatic experience related to the Lockerbie Pan Am bombing in 1988. Shortly after that, while I was living in Europe, the Iron Curtain fell and so did the Berlin Wall in 1989 (I was able to travel to East Berlin while people were still chipping away at the wall). And then there was also the birth of the internet. That’s a period that will likely be fascinating to people years from now. What we are experiencing with this pandemic is pretty mind-blowing and it will be interesting to see how it will be viewed by history.

Making Adjustments

Last Wednesday (Mar. 19) was my first full self-isolation day. It’s now been a full week. I should say that I haven’t had an office in Nairobi since last March so it’s not a huge change. It will be exactly a year next week that we (the Somalia team) closed our stand-alone office and moved in with our Kenya and regional colleagues. This was intended to reduce cost and begin reducing our footprint in Kenya. We were moving positions/responsibilities to Mogadishu in a longer term effort to shift our center of gravity to Somalia. As such, while in Nairobi I would work wherever I could find an empty space. Usually I could find something but there were days where it was quite a challenge. Given that I was in Mogadishu a lot of the time, it wasn’t a big deal.

So on Tuesday when I folded up my laptop and left, not knowing when I would return, there was no desk to vacate. I just went home. 

I’ve heard some horror stories of people’s experiences sharing space with families, particularly since schools are closed. We live in an apartment which, in normal times, is generally big enough but I feel that it has reduced in size now that we are all in self-isolation. Kids come in showing me their latest drawing or gymnastics move, or I’m summoned to settle an argument. These things aren’t too bad unless I’m on a call or something. But generally I would say that it’s working out fine. I’ve done a lot of work from home over the past year anyway so we sort of already know the drill – except that the kids are not going to school.

I’ve stopped going to the gym. At the gritty place I go to normally, social distancing would be impossible. Thus I’ve had to get creative to make it happen at home. It usually involves lifting various sizes of water jugs. I remember back in 2007, while based in Kibondo in NW Tanzania, I was gym-less. In addition to stepping up my running, I found some chunks of concrete that I put in a plastic bags to use as weights. It’s not ideal but, combined with the usual push-ups, sit-ups, etc., it’s fine for now. And I can do laps in the pool, do stairs in the building and occasionally riding my bike or run. Just requires some more creativity.

school's in session

One positive is that the French school has done a very good job of structuring the home schooling. Kiran even has had a few live meetings with her teachers online. They’re doing about a half-day of schooling (thanks to Priya) and do other activities in the afternoon. They’ve done piano lessons over the phone. So long as the internet, electricity and water hold out, we should be good. 

piano teaching by phone

A second positive is that the kids have a few friends in the building. This is great. They can get out and run wild downstairs, play, swim, etc. The girls know they need to keep their distance from each other and use copious amounts of hand sanitizer. And for the most part, they do. 

We heard yesterday that there may be a Covid-19 case in our building. I don’t think we know for sure at this point but we’re still trying to guess who it is. We know of a couple different families that are on full quarantine in their apartments so we suspect it’s one of them. We’re evaluating whether or not we need to reel in our movements even further but so far we feel like we’ve found the right balance.

Kiran's Fall

There's a forest in Nairobi that is quite the amazing green space. It's about 20-30 minutes from our place depending on traffic. On Saturday, given that I wasn't going to the gym, we decided to take our bikes there and ride on some trails. This is a relatively new activity for the girls and they seem to like it. Being a cycling fan, I take great pleasure in seeing my girls learn to ride. We stayed a safe distance from anyone we saw so it seemed like a good activity.

However this time it didn't go so well. In fact, after oiling chains, airing tires and getting our helmets on, we had only gone about 200 meters before Kiran took a nasty spill on the dirt road. I was just behind her and watched the whole thing helplessly. There was a groove cut across the road at a bit of an angle designed to facilitate water drainage (and probably serve as a speed bump would). Rather than hitting it in a safe perpendicular manner, she hit it at an angle allowing the front tire to slide out from underneath her. There's a little be of fine gravel on the dirt surface which facilitated the sliding of the tire.

She landed on her side and her head hit the road fairly hard. Kiran is tough as nails and, like her father, has a history of accidents. But this wasn't an ordinary fall. Through the tears she immediately showed signs of being concussed. She never blacked out but she wasn't fully sure what was going on and was struggling with her short-term memory. We ended up taking her to a nearby clinic to have a doctor look at her (by the way, a very clean and professional facility).

observing sister's first CT scan; kind of scary

I should confess that both my father and I have had rather serious concussions (apple doesn't fall far from the tree). His resulted in a two-day blindness and mine resulted in amnesia (both football injuries). Both caused blood clots in the brain and Kiran's injury appeared to be similar to what I had. Apparently the impact creates a temporary clot that impairs some sort of functionality, in our case it was short-term memory. The doctor we saw told us basically the same thing that my mom was told back in the day when I was injured: you need to watch for any abnormal behavior (other than asking the same questions over and over again) and keep the person awake or (as in my case) wake them every two hours or so. Something to do with preventing the person from sliding into a coma. 

Sure enough, as the day progressed Kiran gradually became less loopy and her attention was more on the nasty scrapes she acquired. Sigh. We were glad that she was okay and that such a thing didn't happen where we would need to access facilities overrun with Covid-19 cases. We're very thankful.

Mid-March: Mogadishu - Covid-19 Arrives

Immediately after returning from Diani, I turned around and flew to Mogadishu that Monday morning. It was March 9 and at that point there were no confirmed cases in either Kenya or Somalia. I assumed we were on borrowed time though. Different places on the African continent were confirming cases and we knew it would take hold in East Africa at some point. 

By now though, even with no confirmed cases, greetings were already becoming awkward. At the Nairobi airport I saw several of my counterparts, heads of various agencies working in Somalia, and one or the other would partly extend a hand, pull back, smile awkwardly, shrug shoulders, etc. It’s a normal transition given the circumstances. It will be interesting to observe how much of a long-term impact this situation will have on how we greet each other and how we interact in general. 

One of the reasons that I wanted to make the trip so soon after Diani was the anticipation that travel restrictions might end up preventing me from returning anytime soon. My concerns would prove to be well-founded. Even while I was in Mogadishu, the Kenyan government announced a quarantine for any travelers coming to Kenya from, or through, countries with confirmed Covid-19 cases. It wasn’t my situation but one could feel the walls closing in.

While in Mogadishu I mostly stayed in the office/guesthouse. One can get a bit stir crazy (insecurity protocols rather than virus) so I made sure that I worked out in the evenings. We purchased a treadmill a while back and set it up on the roof. It has been so helpful to me. I normally abhor treadmills but if you don’t have the alternative to go running outside, it can end up being your best friend. At least for me, exercise is critical to maintain my sanity. And I sleep better too.

By Wednesday, March 11, the WHO officially declared the coronavirus outbreak to be a pandemic. It was sort of a foregone conclusion that this was in fact what the world was experiencing but it was still sobering to reflect on where we were and how quickly all this had happened.

On Thursday I would begin making my way back to Nairobi. As I packed my bag, deciding what to leave behind for my future visit (I maintain a certain stock of clothing and other essentials in my room at the guesthouse so that I don’t have to bring them each time), I thought to myself that this might be the last time I’m here for a while. It now appears that way. 

At the airport in Mogadishu there were the same awkward greetings with people from other agencies, including the UN. The head of UNICEF was getting messages on his phone from the Somali government regarding assistance in setting up quarantine facilities. Other messages came to my phone saying Somalia had a confirmed case. Then it was later denied, supposedly just individuals being held in quarantine. Controlling the messaging is tricky in these situations. Even in my own organization, it’s important to get out in front of it as much as possible and make sure that the narrative doesn’t get hijacked by misinformation. As we boarded the plane, all of us were on our phones trying to figure out what was going on. We compared notes with each other in an attempt to triangulate information. As the plane took off, there was still considerable lack of clarity as to what was going on.

Rumors were stirring on the Kenya side as well. After arriving in Nairobi and proceeding through immigration, I got in the taxi and checked my messages. There were some rumors that there would be an announcement of a confirmed case but by the time I went to bed, no such announcement would be made. 

The next day, fittingly Friday the 13^th, the announcement did in fact come. I went to our Kenya office, which is combined with the Kenya country office as well as two regional offices, and we pulled together the VPs and Directors to sort out the way forward. It was decided to shut down the office by the following Wednesday and shift everything to work-at-home. Though we’d done a considerable amount of contingency planning, there were still things that had not been accomplished. Kenya-based staff needed internet at home. In some cases scanner/printers. We needed to figure it out quickly.

Starting the same day, the light began to come on for Nairobians and people began to realize that this was getting real. People began hording. It wasn’t massive but it would gain pace over the coming days. By the middle of the following week, hand sanitizer, toilet paper, thermoflashes and all the usual commodities began to disappear from store shelves. Priya noticed some strange things in people’s shopping carts like multiple cans of Doom (bug spray) and spray air freshener. It’s hard to say but we sort of think some people don’t understand how best to kill a virus. 

It was now clear that the dominoes were beginning to fall. On Monday, March 16, came the announcement from the Somali Minister of Health that they were confirming their first case. Somalia, in particular Mogadishu, is interesting in that most of the people who travel, particularly to locations with high Covid-19 caseloads, live and work within the secured airport area “green zone”. Many who work for the UN or donor governments are not even allowed out for security reasons. It’s a pre-existing limitation on movements that could work to Somalia’s advantage, so long as it is managed well. In fact, many of the country’s limitations could ironically turn into strengths in containing a virus. Mogadishu is riddled with security checkpoints that make movement around the city a pain in the ass. These checkpoints are prevalent throughout the country as well, some manned by government, others by various armed militias. Moreover, distances are vast and most of the roads are terrible. Internal flights exist but they are prohibitively expensive for most people. Not to say that Somalis don’t travel around the country. They do. But it’s just cumbersome to do so and all these challenges just might help limiting the spread of the virus. We shall see.