Arabella Ingham (Undergraduate Student

The Enemy We Can’t See

ARABELLA INGHAM Undergraduate Student

The virus was interesting but forgettable. That is, when I first heard about it. Coronavirus seemingly was just another flulike bug starting in China. You and I are extremely familiar with these little fiends. Every inch of our body is covered in bacteria and living organisms; we are just a mothership of pathogens. Why should we worry about it if our mighty immune systems keep us safe at all times? I found that the saga became more thrilling and entertaining as titters of the virus from Wuhan rose; we all love a little drama. So far away and foreign, in a city most of us had not formerly heard of, it was hardly something to worry about. The buzz quickly lost its lustre, as in a matter of days the world locked itself indoors.

I imagine the virus as a green nasty noo-noo gnashing its little choppers as it plots to destroy the world — much like those in the Domestos ad. We like to envisage our enemies as the big baddie, but a virus doesn’t plot or prey on people. It has no strategy. It lives in the grey matter between being alive or dead. It cannot live in isolation but proliferates in an organism. The virus grows exponentially, which is fairly simple maths, but understanding it in reality is very different. I remember doing exponential graphs in high school maths, but all I can really remember of it is: ‘that graph that looks like a hockey stick’ – but to comprehend it in reality is very different.

Imagine a drop of water that doubles in size every minute. In twenty minutes it would only as big as a couple jugs of water. But fifteen minutes later it would be the size of an Olympic swimming pool. Still, this doesn’t sound too serious, and the world didn’t take the Coronavirus that seriously. But only one hour later, the body of water is larger than all the lakes on earth. Eighteen minutes after that, it’s the same amount of water as in the ocean. In this scenario, one infected person would have to infect one person for the number to double. Studies show that Covid-19 infection rates are an average of one to two and a quarter, so global infection would be instant if we were all crammed into an enormous petri dish. Luckily, we are more spread out than this.

Whether you are an extrovert or an introvert, we are all dependent on one another. In almost every single activity in my life, hundreds if not thousands of people have contributed to it. I may be writing this essay alone on my computer, but I was taught how

to write by a dozen teachers, and the computer on which I am typing has a myriad of individual parts that could have been produced by hundreds of employees. The room in which I am sitting was designed by an architect. And yet for the past twenty-one years I have best thing for our physical well- being, but it’s like trying to untie a knot of seven billion strings. I stay indoors and only go out for food, but I cannot help but wonder how many people my cornflakes have come into contact with before I buy them.

to force people apart is undoubtedly the best thing for our physical well- being, but

lived in the house that this firm it’s like trying to untie a knot of seven billion strings ” As the lockdown drew nearer of architects designed but I I imagined that the quarantine know nothing about them. An would be something like Tom owner of the property planted Hanks in ‘Cast Away’. I’d find a very tall tree and it casts a my own cantaloupe and paint particular shadow on the room a face onto it, befriend it and in which I write. In our concrete treat him as my own friend. jungles, everything we touch Leave the shelter to gather and see around us is a mark resources, and return to the an individual has left on the safety of my den. I’d bake world. Modern life connects my own bread, wash my own people who don’t know they’re sheets and let my instinctual connected. If we are each uncoordinated desires roam a string, humanity is not an free. In reality screens kept interwoven cloth – it is more me more than busy. Modern closely linked than that. We are inner-city isolation is hardly a gargantuan tangled mess of isolated at all it seems, as the thread. internet opens up a plethora of new ways to spend one’s In a pandemic like this, to force time. Initially I felt restless, with people apart is undoubtedly the so much time on my hands

and so little to do. Every day it gets easier to remain in a foetal position for three hours scrolling online before getting up. Throughout the academic term I’ve always tried to remain as productive as possible – I keep feeling that I must use this time productively because I’ll never have this much free time again. On the other hand, I should relax - because I’ll never have this much free time again. Somehow I’ve convinced myself that the latter is better for my well-being. After the second National Address we all started to feel more anxious. We learned that below the calm of quiet suburban streets, harmonious chirping birds, and falling autumn leaves, households were erupting in chaos. Families’ tempers became as short as their income. Mental health issues have proliferated across the globe as people have confronted terrible fears, retrenchments and a global economy in freefall. We’ve all waited desperately for a date for when our lives will return to normal. That day keeps on shifting. Unsatisfied with our inability to control what is happening; no way to mend or improve what we do. The most frustrating thing is there is no one to hold culpable, no

below the calm of quiet suburban streets, harmonious chirping birds, and falling ” autumn leaves, households were erupting in chaos.

scapegoat. It’s far more fun to blame some scientists singing: “double, double toil and trouble” as they mix up the Coronavirus in a cauldron.

Acquaintances spread conspiracies on Facebook saying it can be treated with alcohol, but the government doesn’t want us to treat it successfully, which is why the liquor stores are shut. It’s both disappointing and morbidly amusing to see people latch onto outlandish explanations. I don’t know much about medical graded equipment, but I don’t think that the bra

sewn up as a mask will satisfy filtration standards. I doubt that the homemade homeopathic treatment will outshine all medical research being done on the virus. Misinformation is as dangerous as hosting a huge house party. It creates more fear about the disease, and worldwide, the fear and uncertainty is Covid-19’s evil twin. Being certain of the facts is one way to keep fear in check, as is keeping in touch with those you care about.

This pandemic is being compared to a war, but this is a strange war. The heroes are the medical staff who tend to the sick. They are protecting us the most from this war, but are falling victim to it. The lesser heroes wear blanket-capes and save the world by staying indoors and watching Netflix. The tanks we drive are sedans as we face the battlegrounds of Pick ‘n Pay and Checkers. That is, for us civilians. No one signed up, but we have been conscripted.

Unfortunately, it only works if we all abide by our orders. This is the first time all of humanity has been on one side of the battle, it is our time to stand together.

This is easy to say. It is easier to do this with the luxury of having other rooms in the house to isolate in and if we do have an argument, to have other rooms to sulk in. We are entangled.