Close shave

I BELIEVE my life was in danger recently.  Virtual races and challenges have taken the globe by storm due to the coronavirus pandemic, and I’m participating in a 300km challenge, initiated by my sister in Denmark. I try to walk approximately 5km daily. I decided to walk around 4pm. A few metres before I got home, I noticed a man in front of me, covering himself from the head with a dirty blanket. He appeared to be a vagrant. At some point, he stopped to adjust his blanket, and I felt as if he had looked at me as he did so. He dragged his blanket further down, such that it covered his upper face, then he wrapped his purple scarf around his face. Alarm bells started ringing in my head. I was asking myself if he was trying to hide his face in preparation to strike.  Then I thought, maybe I need to stop watching On the Case with Paula Zahn and all the Investigation Discovery programmes making me see danger everywhere, even when people are just trying to protect themselves from the cold weather. It doesn’t help that I work in the media, where the primary focus on the bad and the ugly is enough to get one unhinged.  I also reminded myself that profiling of any kind was unfair. Not everyone who appears down on their luck should be viewed as a thug and potential threat.

The man appeared to have somewhat slowed down after noticing me. I decided to pick up pace, he did too, but not enough to overtake me. I saw another man walking behind us, and felt a surge of relief that my tail would surely not pounce on me with another person in the vicinity. But that man appeared to be in a hurry and soon outpaced us. The man I believe was following me switched to the same side I was walking, and seemed determined not to overtake me. I felt, or imagined, his eyes boring into my back, and was relieved when I got to our complex. Sadly, load-shedding was underway and the electrical gate to our complex wouldn’t open. I was, however, sure the man would just walk on by, seeing I was now home. As I stood by the gate, something made me turn back, and there he was, all covered up by his blanket and purple scarf, with only the eyes showing. He was standing about five metres away from me, gazing at me. Then calmly, from behind his blanket, he tilted his head to sweep his eyes up and and down the road, probably checking if there was any person nearby. I checked too, and there was absolutely no one within sight. It was eerily quiet. Then out of nowhere, a car pulled into the driveway and stopped by the gate, intending to also get into the complex. As soon as the man saw I wasn’t alone anymore, he whispered, "I'll see you, neh?" and walked away.

 Days after the incident, I saw the man begging at an intersection

I was pretty shaken up when someone inside the complex opened the gate for the black car. I got in and just stood there gazing at it until it parked outside a house. I wondered whether to go after the occupants and say thank you for showing up when you did, and kiss their feet. Their arrival probably saved me from something catastrophic. Gender-based violence is at an all-time high in South Africa, and I could easily have become a statistic. Maybe not, but I believe we should always trust our instincts. When someone’s presence destabilises your spirit, don’t second-guess yourself.  We might want to be good sports who see the best in everyone, but there is no space for such toxic positivity in the world we live in. You need to constantly look over your shoulder because there is almost danger lurking in the shadows, especially for women. Not everyone we encounter has our best interests at heart. It is a depressing way to live.

 When I got inside the house, I was so relieved to see my children, and be back to safety. My daughter asked, “How was your walk, mummy?” I told her my walk was bad because I met a bad man along the way. In her innocence, she asked if I had taken a picture. When I said no, she ran and took a sheet of black paper and a felt pen, and asked me to draw him.

I told two of my friends about the encounter, and they all encouraged me to find a walking buddy. Unfortunately, I don’t have one. At the beginning of my walk, two ladies overtook me and they were chatting away. I remember feeling a wave of sadness for a brief moment, wishing I had someone to occasionally walk with. I don’t really mind my own company, and walking alone gives me the rare opportunity to reflect on my life and line my thoughts. Still, it would be great to have someone to call on when I need some company during my walk.

Today I woke up feeling ballsy and determined to walk again. It was cold and   windy, so I wore my warm clothes and got out of the gate, I looked up and down the road, and noticed there weren’t any walkers or pedestrians in sight. Everyone seemed to have developed cold feet due to the wintry weather. Seeing the road so quiet creeped me out as I remembered the unwelcome encounter from yesterday. With my tail neatly tucked between my legs, I went back into the house. He won.

PANIC-STRICKEN RAMBLINGS OF A FREELANCER

AS THE the coronavirus continues its relentless sweep around the globe, countries have been forced into lockdowns, in desperate efforts to curb transmission. The move, while saving lives, has had a devastating impact on economies, with millions of jobs getting lost. Stats SA's recent survey revealed the grim rise in the unemployment rate to 30,1%, and the figures did not take into account job losses emanating from the coronavirus pandemic. Just this week, I read with dismay about the folding of some News24 publications, hot on the heels of similar developments at Caxton. As a reader, this is sad news as I will miss my favourite magazines, but as a journalist, this is enough reason for me to tear my hair out as I watch the industry I love so much crumble to pieces. This is a severe threat to my own source of livelihood as my employment options are shrinking with every closing publication. My anxiety is through the roof.

Image from Shutterstock.com

The media industry is saturated. Tertiary institutions are churning graduates in their thousands, but where are the jobs? Are the new graduates going to come with all their youthful exuberance  to snatch bread out of my mouth? I am contemplating upskilling myself in order to stay relevant in an industry that's spitting out even the most seasoned of journalists. In my state of panic, I'm even struggling to decide on what new course to do, as everything is currently under threat! As a freelancer in a pandemic, there is also much uncertainty about what the future holds. I could wake tomorrow to find my sources of income have turned their back on me, at a time when no-one is hiring. I could wake up to find I have tested positive for COVID-19 and cannot go to work for weeks on end, which would be a major financial setback. The wolf would be camping at my door. The fear of getting infected isn't emanating from paranoia but acceptance of what could happen. I'm hoping for the best, that me and mine will be safe, but bracing myself for the worst so that I'm never caught flat-footed. I'm doing my best to pinch pennies, in case of any eventuality. Amid all this, I still consider myself blessed because I'm still talking about the possibility of losing my job, meaning it hasn't happened yet. Many people in South Africa have already been shown the door,and are battling to keep their heads above water, with not many options lining up for them. Retail group Massmart is in talks with unions to cut almost 2,000 jobs at Game Stores. These aren't just statistics, but human beings with bills to pay and mouths to feed. Thousands of lives will be impacted. Business for SA (B4SA) has predicted that four million jobs could be lost in 2020.With my little knowledge on the performance of the economy, I'd say that's an understatement. At the time of writing, at least 40 million Americans had lost their jobs. The continued spread of the virus means even more people will lose their means of livelihood. Governments are overwhelmed and cannot bail all struggling citizens out, leaving millions of desperate people to their own devices. Inevitably, the crime rate will spike as everyone struggles for survival.

With job losses comes stress, which research has noted to sometimes lead to substance abuse, and possible mental health issues. Experts have warned that anxiety, job losses, uncertainly, preoccupation with death (particularly for frontline workers) will cause a sharp spike in mental health problems. It doesn't help that people have become detached, in adherence to social distancing measures. There is minimal interaction and physical activity, at a time when our minds are bogged down and we crave to sit down with fellow human beings to thrash out our problems and map a way forward. Even a mere hug would go a long way to quell the pressure. I remember the Hug-a-Stranger challenge that went viral barely a year ago, and how some people burst into tears of joy upon receiving hugs. But we can't even do that at the moment, as the virus has turned us all into ticking time bombs.  

The pandemic has banished people, even those that need contact to survive, to their little corners where depression threatens to engulf them. Suicides are a notable fallout of psychological trauma, and in the United States, the health system is buckling under the weight of people struggling to stay afloat.  There are warnings that after the coronavirus pandemic, the next one will be in mental health. 

Although there is not much to celebrate at the moment, can at least try to be Pollyannas and look at the bright side? Is there even a bright side? Well, we are still here, still standing, and should make an effort to be our brother's keeper, even with the little that we have. If you still have a job, even one that doesn't pay much, but a  bagful of groceries or even just loaf of bread for the person who doesn't know where their next meal will come from. Say a kind word to someone. Restrain yourself when the urge to lash out at your spouse, neighbour or colleague rears its ugly head. Show the peace sign✌when you'd rather show the middle finger to the distracted pedestrian on the road. Everyone is going through a lot. The heart of this post? None at all, really. Just the panic-stricken ramblings of a freelance journo trying to make sense of a chaotic world. Be safe.