Covid-19 has given us time to ponder — on the value of relationships, and how to live better lives

Not since biblical times, when Noah built a boat to save a few fortunate souls, has the world experienced anything like the Covid-19 catastrophe that is threatening to engulf it. At least Noah and his mates could see the threat and thus devise a means to cope with it. We are confronted by an enemy we cannot see. It announces its malevolent presence in our midst only through its casualties, moving and mowing down with terrifying speed. Young and old, they fall.

We are left with the despoliation, the wreckage, the victims. Like a hurricane, it leaves a swathe of devastation and misery in its wake. A tempest is visible to the human eye, and it has a life and a season. Covid-19 courses about unseen, incinerating its hapless victims. It seems we have ventured blindfolded into an unexplored and perilous jungle. There are no footsteps, blueprints or templates to guide us because nobody has walked this way before. But leaders must lead. Standing still or doing nothing are not options. They can be calamitous.

Noah, using rudimentary paraphernalia, was able to survive. Now humankind, having climbed the highest peak of endeavour, is faced by an enemy it has yet to get the measure of. It has been caught with its pants down. All the skills, the resources, the technological know-how seem to be impotent, for now at least, as the virus remorselessly and effortlessly turns the entire globe into its killing field.

All the billions that have been poured into creating and sustaining armies and stockpiling nuclear arsenals capable of obliterating humanity in the blink of an eye — and for half a century the world lived in fear of such a nuclear Armageddon — have been rendered worthless. Covid-19 is making a mockery of such strategies. Nations that devoted endless resources to trying to outdo each other in all manner of endeavours and rivalry now find themselves on the same side — victims of a silent foe for which they aren’t prepared.

The virus brings out the worst in some of us. The world watches in astonishment and with morbid fascination as the US, the richest and greatest power on Earth, flounders in the face of the virus, its leaders squabbling over a few humble ventilators, while health workers have to make do with refuse bags for protective clothing. Donald Trump meets Covid-19. It’s a double whammy, and makes for a very toxic cocktail.

The virus is having a field day right now because there’s no cure or vaccine. But what the world has in abundance is time. Time has since, well, time immemorial, been a scarce commodity. Humanity has always been racing against time. We’ve always been told that time is of the essence; once lost, it’s impossible to retrieve. Now we sit around with nothing to do but kill it.

So you sit alone — and lonely — during this enforced sabbatical, and you have all the time in the world to think, and to worry. You run things through your crowded head, and your mind races in all directions. You may be alone but countless other people around the world are in a similar situation. Suddenly the whole world is at one, united by shared suffering.

We have too much time to gaze at our own navels. We will probably relearn and re-understand ourselves. With some luck we may even discover the hidden parts — the mysterious parts — of our souls. Are there things in our lives that we can improve? That sounds almost like a plea for a second chance.

It is ironic that during this time of social distancing we are compelled to be ostracised or alienated from those things that give us the greatest joy or comfort. We’re called upon to stay away even from family and refrain from habits or routines that have made life a little more liveable.

We think of far-flung relatives. Even the rotten apple of the family suddenly becomes more appealing. The auntie who’s always fussing over your weight or the way you dress. The grumpy uncle to whom you’d give a wide berth at family gatherings. Suddenly you want to know how they’re keeping. Are they washing their hands, for instance? Can they survive the devastation of this virus? One by one, you tally their chances of survival. The cruellest thing about this virus is that when it hits, you don’t get the chance to say goodbye. It’s a lonely death.

While the lockdown seems to bring people closer together, statistics from other countries show that the number of divorces has shot up. Abuse of women and children has increased. Many people will therefore be heartened by the fact that the sale of alcohol, which tends to exacerbate the scourge of abuse, has been banned during the lockdown.

One area to which governments seem not to be paying enough attention is the mental trauma caused by the absolute havoc of the pandemic. People are terrified of what could happen to themselves or their loved ones. They could be scarred mentally just by watching the suffering around the world. More resources will have to be diverted to psychological therapy.

The immediate question for us is: will the two-week lockdown extension be enough to flatten the curve? And will we still have an economy at the end of the lockdown? It’s a catch-22. But as President Cyril Ramaphosa has argued, if we hold on to dear life, we at least give ourselves a chance. The economy, if we manage to keep body and soul together, can hopefully be rebuilt. Life, on the other hand, once extinguished, cannot be revived.