Covid-19 and Southern Africa

The Covid-19 pandemic has had massive consequences on most countries on our planet. While the spread of the virus follows different trajectories at different times, most governments have resorted to similar strategies in the management of its risks. Even affluent societies and (what is left of) welfare states in industrial countries have found it difficult to cope. Problems multiplied in countries with a shortage of respirators, intensive care units (ICUs) or isolation wards for the ordinary population.

Southern African governments observed the recommendations of the World Health Organisation (WHO). Namibia declared a six-month-long state of emergency on 17 March 2020 with strict lockdown regulations for the first 38 days. South Africa proclaimed a State of Disaster, with an initial 21-day lockdown from 27 March. In both countries this included a ban on liquor and cigarettes sales, which created a thriving illegal market and loss of tax revenue. While the regulations were gradually eased, both countries remain under rigorous measures to contain the infection rates. The peak of the pandemic is only expected around July/August.

By following a “one-size-fits-all” approach, both governments imposed a strictly regulated and controlled regime on all people alike. But their population’s living conditions differ dramatically. Each being among the most unequal societies in the world, the economic and social disparities are exceptional even in “ordinary” times. Private health care provisions have been serving a privileged minority. Public health facilities in contrast lack infrastructure, staff and equipment (including sufficient medical supplies). The unemployment figures hovered before the lockdown between 30 and 40% (depending on definition) and were much higher in the younger age-groups. If those in formal employment were alone counted, figures would be considerably higher.

In Namibia, some 40% of the people live in “informal settlements”, a euphemism for shacks with neither sanitation nor running water. The number of people in the urban townships and rural areas under similar conditions in South Africa should not differ much. Basic hygiene can hardly be maintained with queues for water collection, shared toilets, and several people living in one room. In contrast, the elites enjoy the privileges of residential areas with gardens and pools. They can afford social distancing and homes with full fridges, internet access and other entertainment facilities. They have secure employment, savings, and all sorts of comfort. The lockdown has, interestingly, become a cause of frustration for some for being denied the normal recreational outdoor activities – surfers in South Africa demonstrated against not being allowed access to beaches, calling it a violation of their civil liberties.

Township realities are different. The lockdown has denied people the mobility required to eke out a bare living. Informal trading, street hawking, newspaper vending and other activities (including searching the dustbins of the rich for leftovers) are a matter of daily survival. Closed schools (where children often otherwise got their only proper daily meal) added to the misery. People fear death from hunger more than from Covid-19.

One-off social grants were a welcome initiative but they were unable to meet the dire needs. Many people lacked access to the registration needed to receive any of the benefits, while corruption limited the efficiency and delivery of support measures. Those in non-compliance with the strict regulations felt the full brunt of the security apparatus. Police intimidated, attacked and even killed trespassers, or treated them in humiliating ways. The degree of repressive violence recalled the apartheid days. Insecurity and arbitrariness reigned supreme. As a South African journalist observed: “We [have] one of the most over-policed lockdowns, and yet with such tremendous ineffectiveness at the social relief end, it does tell you about where money is spent.’

Those in governance were remote to the realities that ordinary people faced. In mid-June South Africa’s Social Development Minister stated in public that she never expected the economic impact of Covid-19 to be so crippling for the poor. Another high-ranking political office bearer of the African National Congress declared she could not do without shopping for pleasure. This makes one wonder if the well-off are indeed living on another planet. The swearing in of Namibia’s President for a second term in office was attended by several hundred invited guests. The governing South West African Peoples’ Organisation celebrated its anniversary in violation of the regulations. Such disrespect contributes to the further erosion of the moral legitimacy of the former liberation movements as governments, even as the socio-economic situation degenerates further. Namibia and South Africa head for rock bottom while public debts spiral out of control and recessions grow. Regaining popular support in post-Covid-19 times will remain an uphill struggle. But maybe the ‘new normal’ will offer an opportunity to not return to ‘business as usual’. After all, hope dies last.