As Mauritius is locked down again, a school teacher shares her impressions of a day
I wish it were all a bad dream! ‘As one people, As one nation’, Mauritians woke up on the 12th of March with 99 cases of Covid-19 infections in their midst. Indeed, within exactly one year, we, in Mauritius, are having to face a second national lockdown—which was enforced earlier on March 9. Three constituencies—the 15th, the 16th, and the 17th—have been declared ‘red zones’ because they have reported the majority of these new infections. Residents of these areas have been strictly forbidden to move around to prevent further spread of the virus; however, employees of the emergency services and those having the Work Access Permit (WAP) are allowed cross-territorial mobility.
Personally, I am relieved that—going by the alphabetical-order system implemented—today is my turn to do the groceries. It is 10 AM; I am in a queue, in the underground parking lot of So’flo by Ascencia: a shopping mall in Floreal. How long I would have to wait until I could step inside the supermarket is a question with no definitive answer! For there are around 300 people in front of me—and I seem to see the morbidity of the parking lot being reflected in their eyes.
Mauritius under the second lockdown: photos (from March 12, 2021) by Toolsy Luchmun
Swami Sivananda Avenue
So'Flo by Ascencia (Floreal): underground parking lot
So'Flo by Ascencia (Floreal): the escalator
So'Flo by Ascencia (Floreal): an inside area
So'Flo by Ascencia (Floreal): a front area
Georges Guibert Street, Curepipe, Mauritius
With the dripping noise of the rain outside, the universe appears to be having some fun troubling us all! I have now been standing in the queue for one hour—and the line has moved by the inches. The wait is beginning to take its toll on everyone. Bored and increasingly impatient, some people are now leaning back against the pillars; others are sitting on the floor; while still others are choosing to bury their faces into their mobile phones.
The resurgence of the virus seems to have exacerbated the outstanding—but largely unacknowledged—challenge of poor social communication among the Mauritians. A claustrophobic silence reigns across the parking lot, just the same. Economic inequalities amongst us all seems more visible now, in this very moment, than on an ordinary day. I can notice how uncomfortable it is for the rich and the needy to share the same queue. It is, however, amusing to see those in the front of the queue throwing proud glances at those toward its back.
Around three hours later
The whole scene sort of looks like an airport with all the pandemic protocols in place! On the other side of the escalator is the front area of the mall; and the supermarket itself does not seem that far now. A timid sunlight finds its way through the clouds. ‘It is unbelievable that we have been standing for nearly three hours. I am feeling hungry and the queue is hardly moving’, I agonise to an elderly gentleman standing behind me.
Bald, with some hair on the sides, he is in ‘dodo’ slippers—and carrying a ‘tante bazar’. (‘Aste local,’ I make a mental note.) He has his mask properly placed: above his nose. But the mask fails to prevent his smile from lighting up his face. He looks at his watch and reassures me that the most difficult part of our job that day was behind us—and that the wait would soon end. He adds that it is better to do the groceries today because it is rumoured that the entire market would be closed from tomorrow onward.
We end up laughing at ourselves thinking how stupid it has been to have spent nearly the whole day in a queue on our Independence Day. ‘These people could have at least distributed some cakes’, chimes in another man. We all look at one another and shake our heads.
A parting shot
Ultimately, after doing my shopping, I left the place having spent five long hours at the mall. So there was light at the end of that tunnel. But with the continental-African and UK variants having infiltrated our tiny island, I had found myself wondering, on the way out, whether the virus was now trying to prove itself to be multicultural—say, on the 53rd anniversary of our Independence!
The next day—March 13, that is—the government would tell us that the island had 127 positive cases of COVID-19 infections. Now that can be a rather scary parameter for the citizens of a nation-state whose entire population is around 1.266 million.
Toolsy Luchmun has been teaching within the elementary school system of Mauritius for more than 5 years. Her research interests are in the interconnections among gender issues, politics, and education. Luchmun is open to offering her services as a consultant on the Mauritian school education system. You are welcome to contact her via Thoughtfox by clicking here. For her previous report—filed on April 5, 2020—on the pandemic in Mauritius, click here.
— Copyedited by Piyush Mathur —
Thoughtfox wishes Mauritius a happy independence day!