The Outbreak Caleb Akakpo   © Copyright 2023 by Caleb Akakpo

Image by Enrique from Pixabay

On the crisp evening of March 15, a communique came from the school management to Kwame University of Science and Technology student populace, informing us to vacate campus and leave to our various places of abode. This was in line with the president’s directive to all educational institutions. The grimace that pulled across the faces of students after receiving the news, affirmed the bottled up anxiousness of students wanting to depart to their various homes. That night preceded my Monday accounting mid-semester exams and just like my colleagues, I couldn't hide my thrill else I would have been labeled as the antagonist of this moment of jolly. But that begs the question, why were we happy? Provided the premise of having mid-semester exams the next day, it was quite not conclusively right to be gladdened about travelling home. That moment, I can best describe as a carpe diem for most students of the institution. The thought of being unencumbered from academic pedagogy for a short period was quite exhilarating but we were cognizant of the fact that it was to be short lived. We paced up and down the halls of our hostels, excogitating our travel for the imminent day. However, a chill ran down our spine at the thought of being at risk of contracting the coronavirus-the reason behind our dispatch from campus. Students who had to travel outside the geographics of Kumasi were scared the most and I was no exception. News had flooded the length and breadth of the country about the lethal and sporadic spread of the deadly virus, so we knew what we were up against. I packed my belongings and made sure I had put in my bag everything I needed for the sudden vacation. Later that night, I conversed with my roommates on an array of topics, including our stay at home. We laughed, giggled and soon I drifted into slumber. The next morning, with a schoolbag strapped to my back, I left my hostel and boarded a commercial bus headed for Accra. Everyone who was on board the vehicle wore a nose mask and carried about a 50ml bottled hand sanitizer, so did I- it was a desideratum for combating the virus. At that moment, I poised myself for life during covid-19.

The thought of continuing academic work from home kept resonating in my head. I had no cue of how this was going to be dealt with and I did not ponder over that for a long time since the fear of contracting the virus occupied a bigger space and time of my thinking. It was around 4pm on that same day when I alighted from a commercial transport that headed for Mahean-Afuaman (A town located north-west of Accra, the country’s capital) As I stepped down from the bus, I felt a totally different ambience from the usual one I experienced each time I came home for vacation. Petrification could be smelt everywhere. What a homecoming! The indigenes of the town are largely involved in small scale businesses: Hawking, Food vending, Retail shops, commercial bus drivers and Okada (motorcycle) riders with a small percentage of the town's population working in the formal sector. I ambled all the way home. It’s usually a 15minutes walk but with a heavy schoolbag strapped to my back, I spent 20 minutes on the rather dusty road.

The first few weeks of my stay at home during the COVID-19 period were a roller coaster. Waking up every day and knowing there is a deadly virus out there became the toughest psychological composure I had to deal with. It was reported that the aged were highly vulnerable to the virus and knowing how old my mother was, I knew I had to shoulder the responsibility of taking care of her. I mostly stayed with her during my vacations. Being the last born made me the youngest amongst my siblings and I was the only one who stayed with my mother because my siblings were much older and had independent lives. Mother and I tried various preventive treatments; drinking diluted lemon juice and the juice of boiled Neem tree leaves. It tasted very bitter and that made me exude reluctance when drinking it but she would say to me, "We have to drink this to strengthen our immune system". That utterance sometimes gave the impetus to gulp down twice our normal quantity intake.

After what seemed like a month without academic work, we got informed by the school management about going online with academic work. I had mixed feelings when I heard the news; I felt good about completing the academic semester but my environs was not a great choice when it comes to accessing good internet connectivity. Then it hit me, bingo! There is a good spot in town with better internet connectivity but it implied me going out. It was a 17 minutes’ walk from home. I was stuck between the options of going out and risk contracting the virus or stay indoors and miss academic work. My mind froze for a split-second because I apparently did not know what to do. Later, I decisively went out, wearing my nose mask, to go and virtually continue academic work. Mother would always say a word of prayer for me each time before I left. I knew from the onset, the behoove I had to shoulder.

The days went by, with each passing day reporting a surge in the number of recorded cases. This worsened the phobia I harbored each time I stepped out. Not long after, a total lockdown was announced by the president. For someone who had to go out to get my assignments done and submitted, I did not know exactly how to react to that. Additionally, Mother wasn’t working, and we needed enough food items and groceries to last us the total lockdown period. I visited my older siblings to take an appreciable number of foodstuffs. Unfortunately, the total lockdown struck me with a huge quantum of boredom – one I have never experienced before. The television was the only source of entertainment I resorted to. Social media could have been an option but poor internet connectivity did not make that a possibility. Nonetheless, I did artworks too – it came as natural as a talent. Each time I found the boredom overwhelming; I did either a few pencil sketches or practiced my drum rudiments because I was drummer too. Some of the pencil sketches did fetch me money; it kept me wanting to do more. Meanwhile, in all those moments, there were pockets of self-reflection.

The milieu in which I resided at the time of the pandemic could be described as anything but vibrant. The countenance of residents made their fear of the virus very evident. Who wouldn’t be scared of something this deadly? Meanwhile, some businesses temporarily shut down operations. Those still in business adhered to the protocols that were outlaid by the president. Prior to the lockdown, the prices of goods shot up exorbitantly in the neighborhood; I witnessed the practicality of demand and supply theory. But this was like a bombshell. Purchases were made in large quantities to hedge against the hunger that will come with the total lockdown. Gari (fine to coarse granular cassava flour), a parsimonious commodity, even became expensive. It was hard to believe. Pubs, Drinking spots and food joints were all closed. It was as though they never existed. One’s hunger had to be quenched with home cooked meal. I can vividly recount how a popular food joint went from noisy and busy to being quiet and abandoned. It felt like a newly opened restaurant trying to woo customers to purchase it dishes. All the community cliques were nowhere to be found. It was as though they disappeared overnight. All forms of activity that had elements of human contact seized it modus operandi. The community felt like it has been hit by a strong dry season in the middle of the Sahara desert. Phew! Who could have imagined that a community full of hustling and bustling will grow this quiet like a virgin forest. It was really a pandemic. Social life lost it balance, so did all economic and religious endeavors. Staying indoors became the order of the day. Churches that were still in quest to fulfill their religious obligations visited church members to pray with them and re-assure them that the Lord will see them through. It was like a tranquilizer for most people who seemed scared.

Ordinarily, after 5 months of what appeared to be a socio-economic shutdown in the neighborhood, everything began recuperating. It followed shortly after the ease in restrictions and the community started regaining it vibrancy. I smiled at the prospects of what was happening because I had that firm conviction that, someday, everything will be in their place as it should be and we will return to living our normal lives.