Vaccination

The infrequency of my time in Somalia is largely due to Covid. The virus has wreaked havoc in the country though it’s hard to get a read on the level of devastation. Data is sketchy given that most people are reluctant to be tested and often don't get treatment when sick. The real number of those who have been infected and/or died from the virus is unclear. There have been months of attempts at sensitizing the population on the dangers of the pandemic and the need to respect the prevention protocols, including by our own organization, but all this has generally been ignored, with the exception of some awkward elbow greetings by men. Those that do wear masks are often frowned at. In fact there’s really very little to stop the virus from having its way with the population. If, or when, the nasty variants begin making the rounds, things could get ugly.

So, as I have tried to at least protect myself and others with a vaccination, I have been steering clear of international travel. We haven’t wanted to cut the queue and have waited patiently for vaccines to begin pouring into the country. But as Western countries prioritized vaccinating their own citizens first (understandable), even to the point of hording (not understandable), the pour of vaccinations into the country has remained a small trickle.

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Finally in mid-April, a window opened up for us to possibly get our first dose. While enjoying a Saturday morning bike ride in a nearby forest, we received a phone call from Greece (friend who previously lived in Nairobi) who said her husband was in Nairobi for work and was somehow getting a vaccine at a local gun club. They apparently had extra vaccines and were keen to have people come get vaccinated. To be honest, it sounded a bit dodgy but she assured us that it was legit but we needed to get there within the next two hours. With little hesitation, we thought it would be worth checking it out. 

Within about an hour we were there. The gun club/shooting range is located in a beautiful location outside Nairobi, an area where we’d never been. For now it’s green and lush but I’m told that it’s getting built up fast. The Ministry of Health was indeed there and very quickly we could ascertain that this was a legitimate vaccination location. As quickly as we were able to complete the paperwork, we were escorted to receive our shots. No wait at all. We were feeling pretty thankful for our friends who hooked us up.

I did see some media there but I was more focused on the injection I was about to receive. Sure enough, later that evening we were sent a message by our friend which included video from the local news showing us receiving our vaccinations alongside narration talking about “shooters and their families.” Though we had nothing to do with the club, the presentation obviously made it seem that way.

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News about vaccinations in Kenya has changed by the week. Early on there were rumors of people accessing vaccinations that had been imported privately and at a significant price. Then the COVAX shipments came and the hope was that at least those on the front lines and most vulnerable would get vaccinated. There were rumors that government officials were prioritizing themselves and their families and that some of these vaccines were being provided to (i.e. sold to) non-prioritized people at a profit. Then more vaccine donations arrived in country and rumors circulated that this clinic or that one was providing vaccinations. As much as we wanted the prioritized people to get theirs first, we kept hearing of people refusing to be vaccinated. As time went by our own acquaintances were starting to get vaccinated. It was sort of stressful not knowing when there would be a legitimate opportunity, or if the opportunities we were hearing about were really happening and whether or not we would be eligible. We certainly didn’t want to leave an opportunity “on the table” if it were to be presented to us.

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At the time we had the first dose, there was an assumption that the supply of vaccines would continue such that the second dose would not only happen but it would happen before we would leave on holiday in July. But as time went on, and as the Covid situation deteriorated in India, it became increasingly clear that the AstraZeneca they were exporting would need to be dedicated to their own population. Our ability to get our second dose was suddenly not looking good.

In conversation with my staff in Somalia, the idea was proposed to me to get my second AZ shot in Mogadishu. COVAX shipments had arrived in the country and people, including prioritized frontline healthcare workers (sadly even some of my staff) were turning out to be reluctant to be vaccinated. They said they could make it happen since we were supporting the vaccination campaign. I was intrigued by the idea, particularly if there was a chance that vaccines may go to waste, as we have seen in some other countries, but I wanted Priya to have the shot as well – and she would not be coming to Mogadishu.

As I was pondering this, I received an internal work communication stating that the UN was beginning a vaccination campaign for their staff, partners and dependents. Given that we are a partner, we would be eligible. That seemed like a better option and it would give my wife a chance to be vaccinated as well. The concern there would be timing. The UN tends to move at a glacial pace and we very much wanted to get the second shot before traveling in July.

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Then in mid-June we heard that a couple of large hospitals were providing vaccinations. We had no way of verifying if this was true but we had some friends who had their second shot and they suggested we at least try. The next day, a Thursday, I had some meetings but I told Priya that we could take an Uber and I could try to take the calls as we went (assuming that we would be facing considerable waiting).

So off we went. A friend of ours joined us as we set out on a bit of a tour of health facilities in our attempt to get the illusive second dose. I took my first call while in the Uber and it continued throughout most of the adventure. I was basically tagging along as Priya and our friend led the way, inquiring of guards, health staff, etc. where we should go. To make a very long story short, we eventually came upon what appeared to be a nurse who took it upon herself to escort us on this little adventure. In fact, strangely, she didn’t have any idea where/if Covid vaccinations were taking place but like some sort of angel, she dropped whatever she was doing and eventually got us to where we needed to go. And then she just disappeared. There we were with a relatively short line of people and confirmation that we were indeed in the right place.

Within a half hour we were providing our IDs and getting nearer to the lady with the needles. In fact I received the text message “Congratulations on receiving your dose…” from the MoH before I even received my shot. Some things here are surprisingly efficient. Some things are surprisingly not. This was the former.

As I think about all the scrambling that we did to get vaccinated, and there are so many people who have easy access but refuse to consider not only themselves but society as a whole, I'm astounded by the scale of selfishness. 

"It is not what we do, but also what we do not do, for which we are accountable." - Molière (1622-1673)