Face it, the coronavirus SARS-Cov-2 was sent to remind us how frail we are as the human race. We have no idea, still, what it is capable of doing to a healthy living body and no idea of whether the defences we have been able to mount, the latest being a vaccine, will actually work.
It's like being in one of those alien attack movies where they seem to have a limitless supply of swarming, armed bots and we are down to a handful of heroes.
In SA, our second wave is receding. Given the breathing space, President Cyril Ramaphosa needs to act urgently to recalibrate some of the restrictions he put in place a month ago, lest they do more economic harm.
For its part, the alcohol drinks industry needs to come up with something more convincing than yet another alcohol abuse education strategy. Perhaps it could build or fund trauma wards where its product is most frequently misused. And perhaps the police could try harder to keep drunk drivers off our roads.
But with the best will in the world, these are not our biggest problems now. The biggest problem is how to get enough vaccine to inoculate 70% of the country before the end of the year. Otherwise we'll be in the same tough spot in 2022 as we are now.
And, from what I hear, it is not going well. There will be all sorts of fanfare and political breast-beating tomorrow when (if) a flight lands at OR Tambo in Johannesburg from India with a million licensed AstraZeneca vaccine doses on board. Another 500,000 in the next few weeks. That's roughly half the health-care service vaccinated.
And then there's nothing. Yes, there's a Covax promise and an AU promise. But what we have been utterly incapable of doing, as a country, is to secure a consignment of vaccines of any kind directly from any original producer. It is a huge weakness. I would have hoped that Ramaphosa, renowned for his negotiating skills and charming on the phone, and a businessman to boot, would be on the phones daily to the leaders of AstraZeneca, Pfizer, Moderna and Johnson & Johnson.
But no. The phoning, I'm assured by a minister, is being done by the procurement team inside the department of health. No-one, not even people co-opted by the government to "co-ordinate" vaccine acquisition and distribution, is calling producers. Some lines are apparently never crossed.
Whatever happens, the government has to be able to take the credit for every jab in every arm when and if that happens here. It would rather die than lose face
The British have stolen a march and have already vaccinated almost 8-million citizens. They did it differently. It wasn't about the money. It was about the action. Last April the UK government put together a vaccine task force under the command of Kate Bingham, a hard-driving venture capitalist. "She appointed a team of experts who within a fortnight recommended seven projects for investment," reports The Times.
It was this team that worked the phones and planned the rollout. In all they ordered 40-million Pfizer doses, 100-million AstraZeneca, 30-million Johnson & Johnson, 60-million Novavax and another 60-million doses still under development by GSK and Sanofi. Paying upfront for these helped suppliers start production and Britons are now reaping the benefits of moving early and of taking risks.
Bingham and her team reported, in turn, to a group of three cabinet ministers, whose main job was to approve orders once they had been secured.
In SA, not only are we late but we suffer under an ANC with a self-esteem problem. Whatever happens, the government has to be able to take the credit for every jab in every arm when and if that happens here. It would rather die than lose face.
Normally, no-one would mind a bit, except that, absent a miracle, there is almost no chance of a sharp venture capitalist, or a deal maker, or anyone with chutzpah being allowed to get on the phone on behalf of the country and call the CEO of AstraZeneca. Just not going to happen.
So we wait. And wait. The delivery tomorrow is a drop in the ocean, but cheers to the nurses and cleaners and doctors who get it. They deserve it. In the meantime, we are running out of time and the tunnel to a large-scale vaccine delivery gets longer, not shorter. What should happen is that the government should face reality and give the private sector permission to do what it can to buy vaccine. It's the last weapon in the arsenal. It should have been the first.
Business beats bureaucracies, as the UK is right now teaching its angry European neighbours.
That it would do a better job than the department of health is guaranteed. Distribution can still be fair and equitable. The state can make all the distribution announcements it likes, but without vaccine it has nothing.
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