fort architecture

Some blog posts will tell you in advance how much time it will take you to read them. I am going to offer a different metric that relates to how much this post will depress you. At the moment, it sits squarely in the middle between “ca va aller” and something more traumatic. Not uplifting, but not tragic either. Hopefully it does not veer towards darker territory as it goes on. It takes me a long time (as in several days) to write these things, mostly due to a burgeoning valium addiction, possible dementia, and a toddler. Just kidding. Only one of those things is true. Maybe.

Everyone will have a story about this current moment in time. Some of these stories are already horrifying. I feel fortunate to be safe and healthy, together with my family and a small group of friends. I am trying to stay focused on this point.

The last time I posted on this blog, I looked back on what was a trying 2019. This year was shaping up to be the opposite. The business was finally turning the corner after the eviction/move of last year. The bar and restaurant were doing better than ever. We had catering projects lined up through October. We had promoted staff and hired new employees. We also had one last scooter trip scheduled for the end of March that was going to make this season our most successful one yet.

Enter a piece of RNA in a microscopic envelope covered in spikes.

I went to South Africa on March 5th and arrived back in Mali on the 11th (saw my dermatologist and found out my skin cancer did not come back — hey, there is some good news!). When I left South Africa, they had a handful of cases there. Senegal also had their first cases, but at that point our scooter trip was still on and our clients were still enthusiastic about it. Mali, along with much of rest of West Africa, was corona-free. Of course, flights from Europe were seeding the whole region with corona and it was just a matter of time.

We voluntarily shut down the hotel and restaurant before Mali had its first (official) case. It just seemed like the right thing to do for the sake of our staff and our clients. At that time, the government was continuing to let in flights from Europe, and every neighboring country already had dozens of cases. It didn’t make sense, both the fact that they were still allowing flights in and the fact that there were no registered cases.

I actually wrote a twitter thread about it, fishing for answers from people that understood this thing better than I did.

At the time, this map was accurate. I mean, except for the fact that it identified Sierra Leone as Papua New Guinea. And, of course Mali did have cases. They just weren’t on the radar yet.

Within 24 hours of that twitter thread, Mali had its first COVID19 commmuniqué from the Health Ministry. Two positive cases. Should have kept my mouth shut.

Shortly after closing down the business, I moved into the hotel with my family, Matt, a few other friends and a skeleton crew of staff. We stocked up on critical provisions (fuel for the generator, sardines, pasta, gummy worms, beer etc.) and settled in for 3+ weeks and counting. The scooter trip had long been torpedoed by the shutdown of just about every air border on earth, not to mention mandatory quarantines and skyrocketing chances of contracting the disease.

So here we are. Mali has nearly 200 (reported) cases as of this writing with a mortality rate of around 10% (!!!!). The number of cases is undoubtedly much higher than that. The government has taken an uninspiring half-way approach to the problem. Nightclubs and schools are closed, large gatherings are forbidden, there is a nightly curfew and a shortened workday.

However, mosques are still allowed to pack in the crowds and legislative elections went ahead without delay. In fact, the second round of the legislative elections is scheduled to proceed tomorrow despite the fact that at least one candidate has tested positive for COVID19 and another candidate (the leader of the opposition) has been kidnapped for several weeks. Multiple members of the National Assembly have also tested positive along with several workers at the Ministry of Health.

While Senegal and several other neighboring countries have locked down cities, Mali still allows complete freedom of movement throughout the country. There are now cases in at least 6 different regions.

Some Malians are taking the virus seriously, trying to stay home and limit their movements, but the informal economy is the name of the game here and many people live on day-to-day commerce. Asking them to stay in the house for 14 days or longer without government support is not a reasonable request. The problem is compounded by the fact that remittances from Malians abroad will likely drop just as less money will flow from Bamako to the villages.

The President recently announced a fund for vulnerable individuals and families, lowered import taxes on products like rice and milk, free electricity and water for two months and a certain amount of food distribution. It was certainly one of IBK’s more compelling speeches as president. Let’s see if his promises are implemented. He has struggled with that in the past.

What’s clear is that Mali’s already fragile economy is going to be ravaged. I had to turn my phone off the other night because it was ringing non-stop with requests to borrow money. Our suppliers for the restaurant and bar are also calling. Every day. Asking when we will re-open (we have started deliveries now, which has helped a bit but it is nowhere near the same volume). The curfew has eliminated a whole night-time economy. From bars, restaurants and night-clubs to the women selling poisson braisé and attieke on the roadside. I can go on, but you already know the story, because it is happening EVERYWHERE. The difference here is that the government assistance (if it happens and to what extent) will be meager and so many people are already living on the edge. And that’s in the capital. In many of the regions, where most people get by on remittances and subsistence farming, insecurity has been mounting for five straight years.

For our part, we are just trying to stay in business and keep all of our staff. Their wages are currently our number one priority. The business has survived a few crises in its day – clients kidnapped in 2011, coup d’etat in 2012, ebola in 2014-15, persistent threat of terrorism since 2015, and last year’s eviction and move – so it would really be a shame if this was the one that finally did us in. We are very much known for our atmosphere and physical space, a place where you can come to meet new people, exchange with travelers, and of course eat, drink and relax. As many restaurant owners have noted around the world, it seems that dining and “going out” could be permanently disrupted by this virus. We have re-started deliveries, but that has never been our bread and butter.

We are fortunate that we do not operate on the razor thin margins that are customary for the service industry in many places around the world, and we also have a restaurant that is outdoors with lots of space to spread out. At the same time, 2019 took us to the brink and the timing of this whole thing could not be worse. We don’t know when we will be able to re-open in a responsible manner. Before long, you may see us pushing a GoFundMe.

Just to make things even more interesting, Bintou is pregnant with our second child. She is due at the end of August. Last year, she had a miscarriage early in the pregnancy. This pregnancy has gone much better overall and both she and baby are healthy. Mildly stressful with a pandemic going on, but we are thrilled that Andre will soon have a baby sister.

In the meantime, we have plenty of food and everyone is in good health. We have good company and lots of room to roam. A swimming pool and constant sunshine doesn’t hurt either. While some people are struggling with children in confinement, we have been fortunate to find ourselves in a parenting by committee situation, which is basically the norm in Mali anyway. Our 3-year-old son has constant entertainment without anyone feeling overburdened. Well, except for Heike, who Andre adores and seeks out whenever he can. Take out the looming uncertainty concerning just about everything, and things are great. I imagine there are quite a few people that would like to jump through the screen and strangle me after reading that paragraph. I do realize how lucky we are with our current living situation compared to so many others.

We have no idea what will happen in Mali or in the world, but we are trying to stay positive and support those around us however we can. I hope you are staying safe and healthy and also looking out for each other.

And by the way, before I go, just a reminder that you can still send postcards from Timbuktu whilst in quarantine/self-isolation/lockdown.