At The Height of Lockdown by Sana El-Wakili

I have been thinking a lot over the last few days... Perhaps it was never normal, but we have been tricked into thinking it was a normal world.

Maybe somehow now we have been forced to realise that. As humans we have this fantastical ability to adapt to changes. I feel like now is a wake up call. That simply the air we breathe, the land we walk, the hugs we share, the smiles we send, is enough for us to be grateful. All of the simple human interaction I am grateful for - which I feel is slowly being taken away from us. It defies our need as social beings to the everyday activities of seeing friends and family, connecting with our people, drinking warm coffee with our loved ones.

Isolated.

But maybe this is where art comes in; to channel all of these stewing emotions and thoughts on the pandemic and the aftermath… surely a decade of great art will now be made? That has to produce some hope; especially for our theatre right now. 

Perhaps this is another form of war, of an advanced form, in our era; how we are manipulated and controlled to react and perceive certain things of this form of madness… Covid19 controlling our finances, wellbeing, livelihood - forcing us to live in fear and mistrust.

So what art should we make about this? We will only expose and express the truth of our reality as artists of our time. It makes me think about the theologians of our time, the people of thought, the bearers of truth… which makes me think it’s such an important time for us as makers, creators, Frankenstein-ers. This way we may challenge the post apocalyptic world with art and therefore hope.

Air. Then I start to think about it again. Are we free, what is free, what happens when we are not free; sudden changes and a world of excessive fear, pollution of many forms including political pollution, chaos in a world of panic, fear, wartime style.

Like, are you seeing what I’m seeing? It's a silent malignant apocalypse, pending

I don’t know who or what to believe about this coronavirus; I don’t know about the number of deaths or if the government has my back. As a matter of fact, I have a lot to say about Coronavirus. Truth is the government doesn't care about how rock bottom your finances go, and whether your mental health is at an all time low because you’re scared of germs, viruses, spreaders, potential people dying… It’s Armageddon out there! Look don’t step out! You'll be chewed and spat out dead - or maybe you’ll spread the virus to the elders?

Life in lockdown is indeed in another world. I don't know how to feel because there is the good and the bad. Can I get sentimental for a few moments? You see my room has become a dozen environments and places. My room has become my sanctuary. It’s become my gym, even my theatre, my studio, my painting room, my games leisure centre, my business office, my writing hut, my lighting tech-box, my mosque, my edit suite, my cinema, my balcony, my pantry, my art gallery. It's always been a manifestation of my mind and indeed my hospital and recovery unit. There’s so much memory in here now.

Pre-covid, for a few months, this room was my hospital. I appreciate my room now like I do the sun. I mean purposefully that as a big statement. I might be becoming more content, more grateful? I don't know the answer to that…

But back to the world out there... Beware.

I have realised how much people scare me. I am scared of you. I am used to social beings being bubbled away. Now we are even more bubbled; surely this is defying our natural way of us being social beings! Perhaps after some time apart, people will learn to love and admire, communicate and articulate better. Maybe even eye to eye? We can gaze at each other. We’ll be so tired of speaking (phone calls and stuff) that we’ll use just our eyes.

And what about the aftermath?

It feels like we are being seriously tested with what we can still perceive as normal. Normality on the line. What the fuck is even normal anymore? 

The world feels upside down, but then perhaps maybe it was always constructed to be upright but it was always upside down? Although I'm not going to lie, I quite prefer the inverted view...it's a nice one. Maybe it will bring us closer…

And, now we’re here, can life ever return to normal? Maybe we will have to choose how many people we can hug. Maybe even play a game of who's our favourite to hug and therefore narrow down the amount. Or stick to a strict rule of "I will only hug my favourite people or people I love the most' - perhaps this will bring on a little lightheartedness to such a ruled out situation! That will be hard though also, especially for us performers. We’ve always hugged a lot. 

I have faith in the future. I feel like I’ve become a better person somehow. I don’t know how. Maybe I started to give my attention to new things. To my friends and family.

I was never scared of this virus.  What I was scared of is the lack of normality; like coming home and immediately having to change my clothes or immediately washing my hands. How about taking my shoes off in the rehearsal room? I feel heartbroken when i think of it.

Yet, still, I am being positive.. Even though I can’t help but think of the future. All I see is humans who will no longer be who they used to be. Will we be able to move around each other without fear? This invisible micro monster is everywhere. Which is why the truth is more important than ever now… but unfortunately there's just too much confusion out here. Perhaps I am clinging to the idea of 'one day soon'... I look to the floor. 

You don’t see how much I am wishing that I could simply sit on some grass without worrying or seeing deadly germs on my shoes, on the grass, on my hands, in the air we breathe… germs, germs, deadly germs! Trapped with them! You can’t get rid of them; don’t even think of it. God, I feel like I’m tagged on parole. 

My freedom has gone out of the window… but even this is just my reality.

Like I said, our perception of freedom is changing. Even so called freedom of speech has become a myth. The virus attacks our minds… I feel that the numbers are a lie and the real number is the number of human beings who walk this earth and know of this disease. 

I hear the bell ring within me. None of this is natural. Or if it is, I have to question what is natural and if this is natural, then are we just a diseased species making each other sick? Is this just a mode of manipulation and we all have to get a vaccination that Bill Gates wanted us to get in 2015?

Woah. It’s day one hundred. Quarantine is getting to me. I’m not making sense to myself anymore and I’m about to be hit by one of my depressive episodes that I’ll be lucky if I can ride out. It’s not the quarantine. It is my state of mind. It’s getting the better of me. I’m busy on a deadline for writing a piece for a magazine but I’m going to take a break. 

It’s okay if I take some time out.

No.

I’m going to ignore this. No.

Go away. No. 

Say nothing.


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 Written by Sana El-Wakili

Sana is a British born multidisciplinary London based artist. She's a poet, movement artist and actor. Her influences come from spoken word and contemporary circus, music, visual art and lived experience. Her style has truth and theatre at the heart. Sana has created work for film, theatre and radio. A true cross artist and maker of raw, bold, innovative, experimental and poignant art. She is a playing up graduate from NYT and Roundhouse poetry collective alumni.