Covid-19 Lockdown: Day 28

I didn’t do much at all today.

I went to work and when I got home I spent the entire day reading a book, Swallow by a Nigerian author, Sefi Atta. It’s beautiful. The writing is easy to understand and the story line was awesome. There was no romance, but there was a friendship. The book flirts through a range of challenges with it’s main heroine experiencing, loss, death, job insecurity, poverty and a brief contemplation of being a drug mule.

I am going through a phase this year, and I’ve been pushing myself to discover the beauty of African authors. I keep reading my favorite fiction authors and biographies of my hero’s.

So far I’ve been to a bakery in Kigali because of Zambian-born, Gaile Parkin. I’ve tasted authentic Nigerian cuisine through the bold descriptions of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, I’ve understood colonialism a little bit better through the eyes of Zimbabwean author Tsitsi Dangarembga and most recently I’ve learnt that if you’re from Lagos, you’re a Lagosian. Atta’s writing is thought-provoking and educational.

I would later decide to skip my run in the evening, to the bin and back, and wait for the President’s speech instead.

Then when he started it soon dawned on me that the lockdown was not going to end amd I started to feel sad. I had already taken a sleeping aid and by the time the speech ended I was thoroughly depressed.

And then it happened.

Our President was trying on mask… except he didn’t quite get it on. He fumbled, it covered his eyes, then he got the elastic over one ear, tried doing the same with the other ear, then the elastic snapped.

DEAD! I laughed so loud, Mexico bolted off the bed and ran out of the room. Haha…

I love our President. For all he is and what he’s done. I love him for his human side and how he made me laugh. Hard. For over 10 minutes a month into lockdown.

Ramaphosa is my man of the year, 2020.