There is No War in Ba Sing Se: London in Lockdown

Image credit: EPA EPE

25 May, 3 pm. I have started counting how many people are wearing facemasks in London. Today, I count two. Of them, only one person is wearing their mask properly. The other has it tucked under her chin. These two people, and the occasional line outside of my local supermarket, are the only signs that life isn’t entirely normal. London, and maybe the UK as a whole, has forgotten the pandemic.

The UK went into official lockdown on 23 March, but the signs of the oncoming pandemic were already visible by then. The week before, I tried to buy pasta only to find it sold out across three supermarkets. My friends and family were sent home from their jobs long before the government said to do anything.  For my own part, my university started sending us COVID-19 update emails insisting that exams would continue in whatever form (and firmly dissuading any possibility of refunds). At the time, the government announcement felt inevitable, especially when watching countries like Spain and Italy deal with mass outbreaks. I don’t think anyone expected the UK to soon surpass them in the severity of its own crisis.

The UK government has mapped out its plan for returning back to normal in stages. The most restrictive form of lockdown, when we were only allowed to leave our respective homes once a day for exercise and/or essentials (grocery shopping, doctor’s appointments, funerals), was Stage 1. Those early days were marked by a palpable tension. I distinctly remember being shouted at in a supermarket for standing in the same aisle as an elderly woman. We were definitely more than 2 metres apart, but that type of behaviour was quite normal in those days. 

Now we have been deemed finally ready for Stage 2. Many students are allowed back at schools, non-essential businesses are opening, and there is hope that soon life will return to as it once was before. This announcement has been met by lukewarm to negative reception in the media, and despite decries by medical experts that it will be unsafe, one needs to only step outside to see that lockdown is truly over in the minds of a significant proportion of the British public. 

For me, the imminent easing of restrictions remains equal parts heartening and worrying. Part of me fears that I am being gaslit by the government – that this is a social experiment that will soon fail, a disguised attempt at the herd immunity plan that was laughed out months ago. My reaction in part comes from a deep dissatisfaction with how the UK government has so far responded to COVID-19: reluctantly, and with delay. I am increasingly disillusioned by the news cycle as it continues to report all the ways those in power fail to follow their own rules. I find myself wondering if this really is a choice for the public, or if the government officials, like the rest of us, have simply become tired of staying at home.

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26 May, 5.15pm. I am talking to my friend in Hong Kong. “35k deaths I think?” I say. “400 today.” He replies: “Seriously, I can’t comprehend this number.”

At the time of our conversation, Hong Kong had reported 1,080 infections and 4 deaths in total. I didn’t realise that those types of numbers were possible. On that day alone, the UK reported 412 new coronavirus-related deaths - more in one day than South Korea had reported in all of 2020. (And Israel. And Greece. And Saudi Arabia. You get the idea.) The UK has less than 1% of the world’s population, and yet has reported at least 10% of the world’s overall coronavirus deaths.

Image credit: BBC

It is not as if the government isn’t aware of the dangers – lockdown continues, only now in a reduced form. The government has been quick to note that people should not #stayathome, but rather #stayalert and continue to take precautionary measures. The British public are only allowed to meet in groups of 6 (and even then, staying 2 metres apart), and those who are returning to school will attempt to maintain social distancing. My fear is that whatever social distancing measures we do keep will be ignored. On London Bridge, they have now painted a long green line across the footpath, with “Keep Left” written at intervals in an attempt to enforce social distancing; I can tell you first-hand that it has not worked.

The collective mood is a far cry from those early days of lockdown, when the supermarket aisles were bare and toilet roll was about to become its own form of currency. Now, with restrictions easing, I find myself self-conscious every time I go out with a facemask on. It is a feeling that I have seen replicated amongst many of my friends. Are we acting with caution or paranoia? Should we embrace our much-desired new freedoms or dismiss them? I still haven’t made my mind up. For my own part, I err on the side of caution, but I fear that many people will not do the same, and sooner or later, we will find ourselves again stuck in our homes.

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Image Credit: Rhys Jones

27 May, 11.45am. One of my favourite cafés has announced that it will reopen next week. My friend immediately messages me – we make plans to visit. Not seriously, and not anytime soon, but someday. As I flick through pictures of my friends in other countries hanging out in person, I can’t help but feel restless. This, however, is enough for now.

This lockdown has been long, and any progress made in the UK has been maddeningly slow. I am one of many people eager for all of this to end. Yet I am not blind to the lessons learned from other countries. Hong Kong went 17 days without an infection reported before finding a small resurgence of new cases.  Similar reports have appeared in Wuhan and South Korea. All I can hope is that the UK will recognise the obstacles that lie in its own future. We will not be able to see what effects, if any, the easing of restrictions will have for at least another two weeks. We can only hope that this will be the first of many steps we take to return to our everyday lives.

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For my own part, I keep sane by taking regular walks around the city, reading books that I used to not have time for, and lots of blurry video calls with friends and family. I have always dealt with stress by planning - making calendars and to-do lists for better times. That is no longer possible in this current situation - I don’t know what my next two weeks will look like. But I, like many others, am learning how to take things one day at a time. One day we will be able to meet in large groups, eat at restaurants, and shop for groceries at a leisurely pace. I cannot say when. For now, I can only hope that we can hold out a little longer.