Can you believe it has been a year since the world went into battle.
A year and a bit since talk of death, sight of coffins and graves en masse became a staple diet.
Imagine.
No bombs blasted.
No guns fired.
No machetes sharpened.
But still.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
And millions have perished.
As one uncle Mninawa Ntloko would say when his spirit is moved by the spirits that titillate his palette: what in the actual blazes?
This fight is draining
Statistics SA put the population of this country at 58.6-million.
This time around we are minus just under 53,000 of our fellow citizens. Souls have left their bodies, which have either been gobbled up by graves on the ground or reduced to ashes through cremation.
Jerrr! This fight against the invisible enemy is draining.
It shut down everything during the introduction of lockdown.
Sport stopped for what felt like an eternity. For months players could not play with balls of any shape or size.
There was no kicking of the soccer ball or catching of the oval ball on soccer and rugby fields.
The clubs and irons were rested as the hitting of the dimpled ball on golf courses was not permitted.
Absent was the action of catching the red or white ball in the cricket oval. Legs could not be stretched on the track or field.
Cathedrals and arenas of entertainment became ghost venues. Silence was the soundtrack.
Conversations at breakfast, lunch and dinner have a common theme and similar golden thread of the dreaded five-letter word - death, ukufa.
The majority of posts on social media platforms have bore terrible tidings of funeral announcements.
What is the point of sport when there are no bums on seats, cheers and jeers, swearing and shouting emanating from the terraces
Rest in Peace. Condolences.
Slowly things started going back to the semblance of normality. Semblance because normality has been so abnormal a feeling of normality is now foreign.
Back to the fields the players went. No such luck for fans.
While we can watch our favourite sports on TV, the whole experience is without soul.
What is the point of sport when there are no bums on seats, cheers and jeers, swearing and shouting emanating from the terraces.
Can Covid-19 get the hell out of our lives. Pronto. Pretty please.
We have had enough. We are at a point where so many people don't understand where we are right now.
Why is it that some selfish individuals don't actually get the fact that people are losing their lives because of their acts of irresponsibility.
The war has not been won
How many more people must die before the penny drops and they get it through their thick skulls that not adhering to prescribed regulations will only bring about an increased number of deaths.
How many families must be affected before the dunderheads among us understand that this thing is still as dangerous in lockdown level 1 as it was at level 5.
The war has not been won. The weapons like social distancing, sanitising are still the best tools to shield us from Covid-19.
We have all been affected. As family. As relatives. As friends. Everyday when a call comes through we freak out.
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