West Midlands, England
I do not fully know how to explain the time we are living in. In conversations with close friends, I find myself repeating versions of “guys, seriously what the hell is going on, it’s like the world is on pause….”.
As a humanitarian, I am trained to almost instinctively act at a time of emergency, respond fast, work all hours. But what do you do when you can’t do anything? My social media feed is full of areas I have worked in, from typhoons to war torn areas, to refugee camps. I have always tried to show the realism of this work, the nature of what we do on the front line. How difficult it can be, and beautiful at the same time, an oxymoron. Everyone faces a tough battle and sometimes you are helping without knowing it.
But recently the messages in my inbox have been different. I can sense fear, uncertainty, and a few people have asked me, will we be ok and have I been through worse? My heart sinks slowly and I think about the experiences, and moments where I have sit with widows in refugee camps, and have seen their children pass away. Their husbands taken and never seen again, the pain in their eyes is a different anguish. I think about the times I have been frightened to my core thinking am I going to get home. Then I remember, the storm will pass. So I message back saying, don’t worry, this lockdown will pass like all things. It will just take longer and a bit more time. I say this because I have been in worse situations so be patient, be calm, and look after loved ones. There is always light after darkness. Have faith.
I end my message with two smiley faces because one is not enough. To everyone who does read this, just know this will pass. 🙂 🙂