On Grief

Grief is universal. All of us at some point must encounter it. Grief is also very personal. There’s no correct way to grieve. Though there are a plethora of books and motivational speakers that try to give us tips and tricks for it.

The thing grief is most associated with is death. We all must die and we all will experience losing loved ones. It is an inevitably that we spend a lot of energy fighting when we haven’t conveniently forgotten about it. It’s actually quite absurd how much we forget that we are mortal beings. Though to be honest, constantly thinking about death would probably drive one mad and it’s better to be immersed in the living.

The COVID-19 global pandemic brought grief to our doorsteps. I remember seeing the numbers of the dead especially in Wuhan and in Italy and being shocked and terrified that this thing that was killing so many people was making its way to me. 

When it finally made its way to Kenya, the week of my birthday, the terror was dizzying. I remember being afraid to touch anything. I remember everyone talking in hushed tones about what they would do if they got sick. I felt helpless and terrified for my loved ones. There were rumours that some rich people had built ICUs in their homes for themselves and their families. Meanwhile, the rest of us could only pray and hope that our staying home, wearing masks and obsessive washing of hands and everything we bought would be sufficient.

At first, it seemed I nor anyone I know knew anyone who had Covid. So my anxiety reduced and I figured we’d been lucky and dodged it. And then it happened. A friend’s dad got sick and died. And then another friend’s dad. And then three of my favourite African musicians died too. And then a neighbour’s sister who was a doctor. And then a friend’s cousin who was also a doctor. The deaths continued and suddenly the world was a blur. The grief, as I tried to hold space for my friends, was overwhelming. The knot in my stomach as I wondered if my loved ones could get sick and not make it through caused me sleepless nights.

It was not just the grieving for those who’d passed away too. It was grieving for all the time spent drowning in anxiety. It was grieving for all the loneliness borne away from loved ones. It was grieving of all the economic losses and work opportunities that dissipated due to the pandemic. It was grieving for all the lost moments we would have had outside our homes or in them full of laughter, joy and company. It was grieving for stolen time from our lives.

People continue to die and I’m still afraid. There’s vaccines now though so there’s hope. Still, I wonder how long it will take to get back to a semblance of normalcy and if that is even possible now. How do we go back to acting like we didn’t live through a global pandemic? How do we go back to normal? What is even normal? Do we even want to go back?

I want to imagine a better world. A kinder world. And not for a few, but for everyone. The pandemic proved that we can feed and house everyone and that we can work together for the good of the world. I hope that we build on shared community because it’s the only way we can grieve those who lost their lives and those parts of ourselves that we lost.