Silencing summer

For a nation not used to sensible politicians, South Africa's Covid-19 plan is a bolt from the blue of better-run countries.

TELFORD VICE in Cape Town

“SUMMERTIME … and the livin’ is easy,” a woman crooned as the band behind her offered their take on George Gershwin’s classic at Cape Town’s Mojo Market, an eclectic collection of food and retail options attached to a touristy hotel almost on the shores of the Atlantic. The venues windows afforded patrons a fine view of the evening sun sinking slowly into the ocean through a sky sooted with the ochre smoke from a bushfire near Table Mountain, a seasonal hazard.

That was last Sunday. On Monday the market joined the long list of closures due to Coronavirus concerns. Later on Sunday night South Africa’s president, Cyril Ramaphosa, had announced a raft of measures meant to combat the spread of the pathogen. Alcohol may not be sold, dispensed or transported between 6pm and 9am the next day from Monday to Saturday, and from 1pm to 9am on Sundays. No-one suspected or confirmed to have contracted Covid-19 may refuse treatment, isolation or quarantine. Anyone spreading fake news about the pandemic will be liable for prosecution. For a nation not used to its politicians doing anything that could be construed as sensible, let alone worthy of their electors’ trust, the considered comprehensiveness of the plan was a bolt from the blue of better-run countries.

Cricket has long since closed itself down. Competitions at all levels have been abandoned unconcluded, and most provinces have instituted “lockdowns” — an unnecessarily alarmist term — that include closing offices and banning meetings. But this isn’t about cricket, which in any case faded from public view the moment South Africa’s tour of India, the last engagement of the international season, was cut short. Rather, it’s about streets stricken with silence over the uncertainty of how bad this could get. The livin’ ain’t so easy after all.

First published by Cricbuzz.