Here we go again...
Six months today to the PM s announcement of lockdown and the country is still in crisis.
Yesterday the PM was back in front of the cameras telling a reluctant and weary nation of the latest measures to curtail the spread of coronavirus and curtail our liberties.
The current programme is designed to limit the rapid spread of this deadly virus by reducing hospitality hours , reducing group gatherings for weddings, sports, funerals, etc. We keep the rule of 6, although its many exemptions have reduced it to as much use as a chocolate teapot.
Wealth versus health. Fair enough. But whose wealth. Those who have are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer. We may have protected the NHS from coronavirus overload but we have not protected it from privatisation by the back door.
The abject failure of outsourced testing /track and trace systems, heralded as society's saviour, testing, has exposed us all to appalling risk . The multi million pound contracts paid from our taxes to companies who so blatantly cannot fulfil them is beyond disturbing.
Dido Harding, the government appointed boss of this inept testing system, is married to John Penrose, MP, advocate of a US style privatised health system. Jobs for the boys.
Apparently moving these schemes away from public health will improve services. Really, there was me thinking it was simply to line the pockets of the rich and powerful. Stories abound of people forced to wait weeks or travel hundreds of miles for a test, results can take forever and meanwhile folk are forced to self isolate as a result , missing work, missing education, missing the vital knowledge that could keep themselves and their loved ones safe.
Testing was proffered as the answer to our prayers. A quick test and children can be back at school, people back at work, families breath easier. Excuse from Dido Harding for failure to produce/process tests. Demand was underestimated. Words fail me...
The media in all its shapes and sizes is now awash with political satire.
As seen on Facebook
Lewes has one of the lowest infection rates in the country, thankfully. So how depressing for us to see hundreds of students pouring into Brighton and Sussex universities this weekend. Paying through the nose for privatised halls of residence. Paying the full fees of £9,000 a year for online only teaching.
Do I blame them for coming anyway, no, as for many the option was a year with nothing to do given the sky high level of unemployment. Do I blame the Government for encouraging them to come, yes. These young people will be paying their debt for years whilst wealthy property developments laugh all the way to bank as the student flats fill up and the university coffers grow richer.
In fairness this year Sussex, like may universities, have a higher than usual contingent of students from private schools owing to the corrupt, class ridden, A level fiasco. So I guess they can maybe afford it. Shame for everyone else, and shame on the Gov for putting money ahead of spreading this virus, moving those from highly contagious areas throughout the country and into those areas like mine where we are/were relatively safe.
I have never been particularly proud to be British, I simply am, by a lucky act of birth. I live in comfort compared to third world nations, I find doors open across the world by proffering my British passport. Increasingly I have been ashamed to be British and especially now with the Brexit debacle looming.
These days I am also terrified to be British. The utopian myth of our classless society is no longer even honoured as a promise. Instead the country has moved backward. The gap between rich and poor is widening. The golden ticket of self employment has brought debt to thousands as the economy shrinks by the day.
Panic buying has begun again this week as people fear another nationwide lockdown. Shortages are already apparent, not just in food but in medicines. Especially in medicines, as the global pandemic has hit supply lines. Where will this country go without the protection of the EU in the new year.
My angry stream of consciousness is undercut by worry. For myself, for my family, for everyone in education, in or out of employment, for the old, for the young, for the dispossessed. For us all.
I have been so lucky this year. I have not been ill. I live in a beautiful part of the country in a detached house and garden. I have had a wonderful summer with my family , also healthy and economically secure.
With winter coming and our pause from the reality of the ongoing fight against this pandemic over, I feel increasingly helpless. This country embarked on our journey through coronavirus together and now we re on our own. Maybe we always were but it seems as if we felt together, we felt as one, we clapped for carers, we supported our communities. Not so now.
I
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