The Sunday Mail
Levi Mukarati and Brighton Zhawi
Frontline healthcare workers can, will and may never be thanked enough for their direct and risky confrontation with the coronavirus pandemic.
But a simple round of applause at this moment will suffice.
While the medical professionals are doing what they know best, there are others who may not be getting all the attention.
These labourers, whether voluntary or assigned, have kept societies like Zimbabwe going.
They include the dedicated men and women who, without medical experience, aim what appears to be a small white pistol — thermometer gun — on the forehead of people at checkpoints, building complexes, grocery shops and hospitals.
Others are the simple janitors in buildings, grocery store workers keeping shops clean and shelves stocked, and various teams sanitising public areas.
Then there are truck drivers hauling food products and fuel from one end of the country to the other, and public transport crews shuttling people to and from critical workstations.
Not to be left out are security guards protecting valuable properties, as well as journalists, bank employees and pharmacists.
In most cases, these unsung heroes in the country, where a 21-day lockdown was declared on Monday, have been working with inadequate protective clothing.
These people have been classified as essential service providers.
The announcement of the stay-at-home order by Government was accompanied by a waiver for “essential service providers” to continue duties during this critical period.
These men and women are heroes in their unique way.
Mr Jacob Bvochora, a pharmacist at Glorimed Pharmacy, is one such person who has dedicated himself to driving nearly 35 minutes daily from his Westgate home to the high-density suburb of Kambuzuma, where his services are sought-after.
The pharmacy services over 40 000 people in the area.
“It is an honour to be providing such a service at this time. Our pharmacy is in an area where, in most cases, you find people coming to consult even on their various ailments,” he said.
“We are thankful that the local polyclinic is operational and we have had to direct some of the clients there as our task is mainly selling medical sundries.
“But serving during such a high health-risk period is all about commitment.
“There are many people coming in and you never know who is carrying the virus or not.
“That is why we are always wearing protective masks and emphasising the use of hand sanitisers,” Mr Bvochora adds, as he briefly stops the interview to attend to an old lady who has just entered the pharmacy covering her mouth with a brown woollen scarf.
He quickly ushers her to a chair.
“This has become the routine,” continues Mr Bvochora as he attends to the old woman, who has already lifted her hand to a pharmacy assistant for what appears a routine blood pressure check.
The old lady appears inquisitive and turns to Mr Bvochora: “Iyo mask yamakaisa kumeso irikuita marii? (How much does the face masks cost?).
Some 15 kilometres away from the pharmacy, in Harare Central Business District, Ms Sibongile Nyamugunduru, a security guard protecting one of the properties, believes God will also shield her against the deadly coronavirus infection.
She lives in Cranborne and travelling to and from work has never been easy in the past week.
“Catching a bus is a nightmare. I start work at 6am, which means I must be ready and in the queue for the first bus from my area at 5am,” said Ms Nyamugunduru.
“The bus has been coming late, but I must report for duty since that is the only transport available.
“Most places that sell food in the CBD are closed and for those supermarkets that are open, the prices are high.
“So, it is a long day for me, but I am committed to protecting the property I have been entrusted to.
“In the wake of the coronavirus scourge, I know I am on the risky path. But God will protect us from coronavirus. So, I am not really worried about being infected.”
For Ms Patience Muyieaziso, a single mother from Kuwadzana Extension who works in a supermarket in the CBD, she believes it is her obligation to provide an essential service.
The young woman says her greatest inspiration to work, in light of the health threat of coronavirus, is her son.
“I have to work for my son. There are no two ways about it. There might be a risk, of course, but my child needs to eat.
“We are obviously some of the essential workers conducting duties during the lockdown and I am proud to be providing that service.”
Like Nyamugunduru, the supermarket employee faces transport problems to and from home.
“On Friday, I arrived home around 8pm after finishing work at 3pm. There was only one Zupco bus doing rounds. Is that fair, especially after the commitment we have shown?
“Moreover, some overzealous police officers often harass us with truncheons as they try to enforce social distancing when we are queueing for the bus.”
As the essential workers ensure the nation functions, over the past week some Zimbabweans have tried to seek solace from the sad realities of the scourge, toying with the phrase “essential service providers”.
Apart from terse comments to neighbours and friends, whilst observing “social distance”, the buzzwords have shifted from “corona” to “essential services”.
In high-density areas, popular statements among women have been: “Regai timbopinda mumba tibikire mhuri, tisu vema essential services (Excuse me for now, but I must get indoors and provide an essential service preparing food for the family).”
Social media has not been left out with jibes such as: “If you are not part of those being ushered into town to provide essential services, then please shut up.”
Other messages have taken a dig at those working during this period: “The presence of essential service providers in town is characterised by few private vehicles.”
But away from the humour, those providing essential services have remained unsung heroes in the fight against Covid-19.
