At the initial stage of the COVID-19 pandemic, I and most of my family thought “hey, it’s just going to be a few weeks of Netflix and chill and some leisure time to relax.” And that was what the experience was for a while, until it changed drastically as the lockdown directives tightened, and my uncle who works as a nurse tested positive for COVID-19.
That incident changed our experience, reality, and perception of the pandemic. If I wrote this article a month ago, it’d probably have been about the Netflix movies I binge-watched. Instead, this article is about something else. Something I wish I didn’t have to write about…
My family includes first and second-generation immigrants from Nigeria living in the United Kingdom, specifically in the London borough of Southwark — Camberwell to be precise. Another sort of pandemic we had been familiar with was the systematic and institutional corruption we experienced in Nigeria, and how it had impoverished a nation of over 250 million people. We also had knowledge of the Ebola Virus outbreak in West Africa in 2013. However, the COVID-19 pandemic proved to be unprecedented and would change our lives forever.
My uncle was a registered nurse. Even though he had majored in business administration during his first degree, he paid his way through college to secure a second degree in nursing. He was passionate about health care and saving lives because, as he would say, “being in the position to help others is the greatest blessing.”
So, it came as no surprise to us, when he expressed his interest to be one of the frontline caregivers for COVID-19 patients. We are a close family, so news of him volunteering frontline despite his age wasn’t received with much excitement in the family. But he genuinely wanted to help, thus, he stuck to his plan.
My uncle was a family man with three kids, and I had a fairly close relationship with one of them because of our proximity in age. On the 2nd of May, my uncle was confirmed as a positive carrier of the COVID-19. The immediate effects of this included isolation from his family — especially his wife, who was also feared to have contracted the virus because they lived together and had close physical contact before he knew he tested positive.
Calls went out to family members informing them of the tragic news. However, there was still a glimmer hope. Statistics had shown an impressive recovery rate from the virus, and thus, we remained hopeful.
We are part of a Pentecostal Christian family, so we kept the faith with intercessory prayer sessions held by family members. Hours turned into days; days turned into weeks. At the beginning of his first week in the intensive care unit, his breathing had to be sustained by a ventilator. It was at this point our fears worsened, and we slowly realized that we were on the verge of losing a father, brother, uncle, and a dedicated health care worker.
It’s tough to even put into words, the effect this trying period had on the kids and our entire family. Waiting by the phone every day, waiting on calls from the health care center, hoping to hear news of improvement…only to have our hopes dashed consistently.
On the morning of the 18th of May, I was woken by a call from my dad. It was a bit unusual for him to make a phone call or even be up at such early hours.
“Morning dad,” I answered.
“My brother, your Uncle…he didn’t make it,” there was despair in his voice.
I was immediately immersed in a cluster of emotions. It was a short distressing call that I hope to never receive again. It was also the first time I heard my father cry.
It has been (still is) a tough couple of weeks for the whole family. The experience is overwhelming for the family members that have had to go through the terrifying ordeal of watching helplessly as a loved one suffers.
I’ve experienced all stages of grief; from denial and isolation, finally coming around to acceptance. Before acceptance, I shed tears so uncontrollably that I had to find solace in the fact that he lived a good fulfilling life.
The toughest part of the experience was not being able to pay our proper final respect. Only seven people were authorized to be at his funeral, including the officiating priest. My uncle was a monumental person, offering the best to his family and giving back to the community. Sadly, in the end, he couldn’t even get a proper burial. But we continue to take solace, knowing that he is a better place.
I realize that we all have to stay strong for his immediate family. For now, my coping mechanism has been taking strolls, spending time on calls with family, and listening to a lot of good music.
For anyone that has suffered the loss of a loved one during the COVID-19 pandemic, I would like to offer my sincerest condolences. It’s tough to lose a loved one under any circumstance, but losing a loved one under these unprecedented circumstances makes bereavement all the harder.
On a closing note, remember, we all have a responsibility to our families and our respective communities. Let’s continue to steadfastly adhere to directives from health care practitioners, and hopefully, we can flatten the curve and beat this soon enough.
Stay safe.
