Jafas just want their lives back

Friday morning of freedom day, I was driving with the windows down, breathing in great gulps of sweet, sizzling summer air that was crackling with anticipation like a pig on a spit. The sun was pleasantly crispy, Jafas were skipping about like ungroomed but adorable pet poodles let off the leash, and I was fizzing with the sherbert-like rush of planning what to wear that night. Finally, finally I remembered what normality felt like.

Then on the radio, I heard someone proclaim portentously that it wasn’t long now till Jafas were, ‘‘let out’’.

Like we’re a bunch of mad, mangy cats mewling at your windows, waiting for December 15, so we can wiggle in and scratch, screech and shed over your new sofa.

It was followed by a whip around of grumpy buggers outside of Auckland, all of whom complained about the traffic light system, that Jafas would be spraying diseased droplets over the country like acid rain, and the general inference that we should just be left locked up to slowly ferment in our own sickly juices like a jar of rotten gherkins.

My slowly thawing heart froze over again. Ok, Jafas know that no-one else really cares about what our lockdown was like. We worked that out pretty quickly. We’d try to talk about it on group chats and see disinterest welling up behind everyone’s eyes and overflowing down their faces like a blocked sink.

And look, I get it. Humans are awful at caring about issues that aren’t affecting them directly.

In July, I never really listened to my Melbourne friends when they complained about lockdown. The only time I ever thought about it was to silently thank God that New Zealand had ‘‘beaten Covid’’. (And God clearly decided to smite me for my hubris…)

But underlying this disinterest is also the mistaken assumption that Delta is an Auckland problem – not a national problem. It hit Auckland, it’ll stay in Auckland, and it’s up to Auckland to sort this out. We’re the naughty kid who needs to stay behind in detention and finish cleaning the classroom while everyone else skips off to the dairy.

It’s not hard to see where we got this thinking from. It’s like in July this year, when Covid was an overseas problem and all little old New Zealand had to do was raise the barricades, and we’d be sweet as.

But here’s the thing. This was never an Auckland problem, in the same way it was never an ‘‘overseas’’ problem.

Covid was always going to hit us, and all of us, because uncontrollable global forces sweeping across humanity are, well, uncontrollable and global.

Delta was always coming to a town near you. The best and only strategy we had as a country was for Auckland to buy everyone else time. And we did this. We stayed locked down, so the rest of the country had time to get vaccinated and prepared. But we can’t stay here forever.

And look, I’m not asking for sympathy for the last three months. I don’t really expect you to care about something that didn’t really impact you.

God knows I don’t care when someone starts talking to me about any child-related problems. I’d rather listen to a short informative presentation on how I can make $10,000 a month selling essential oils.

But Auckland played its part, we did what we had to, and all we want is not to be treated like pastel-spandex-clad pariahs..

All we really want is our lives back.