The Covid test: Our loss of freedom, touch, and movement: Part II
By Mahatma Ulimwengu
Indeed Covid has affected the global community at large. Perhaps sincere reflection might just be the remedy we need. With new evidence coming to light as to the possibility of this deadly pandemic being engineered by man, too few have had a second to process the disturbance caused.
This new reality came in the form of lockdowns and school closures. Trips were cancelled, and funerals resulted in more funerals. The world as we knew it came to a screeching halt. Plans were postponed, rescheduled and cancelled all together, and while the best among us managed to maintain a productive consistency – or even profit with outrageous abundance – there was a toll paid by all.
My toll, much like that of many, was a hefty and emotional one. Amidst spiralling personal problems, there was a whirlwind on the professional front. Whilst for some, the opportunity to work exclusively from home might have had some appeal, for others, it was a dread to behold. Never mind the fact that my course was in ‘Live Performance’ – something that was completely out of the picture by April 2020 – it was a task to navigate through the industry under such conditions. Most record companies that I had been in contact with regurgitated the same ‘Covid’ excuse with ease before I could even finish presenting my case. Career options were stalled as everyone scrambled to look out for themselves in such trying times.
On the school front, my weekly ritual of recording a song in the studio and performing it live on the weekends had come to an end. Most importantly, there was now a question of what I should be doing for my Live Performance exam. None of us had quite anticipated a global catastrophe as we planned for the year and so we had to improvise on-the-go.
A friend of mine, a director with whom I had graduated, caught a glimpse of my WhatsApp story one day. I had posted a thirty second clip of a song I was working on and touched it up with a grim imagine of a corpse bride on her wedding day. This friend of mine is a director in trade and fell in love with the song and imagery upon sight. He contacted me and suggested we work towards shooting an official music video for my song Insecurities and I was all in.
By this time, the persistent virus had drained my enthusiasm. We seemed to have been stuck in a constant state of limbo, so it was a lovely feeling to have something to work towards. After a couple of days of deliberating with the director, I had the idea of merging a few songs into a short musical project. Furthermore, we could take the concept to AFDA (our school) and perhaps this could stand as my major project for the year. My lecturers loved the idea and had us working to improve and further the concept. In time, through arduous and cunning work, the project was complete.
By November of 2020, the inertia of the new reality had set in. In Cape Town, things had opened up somewhat, with the government easing restrictions – before tightening them back up again. The cycle continued. Clearly nobody had an actual clue of what was going on. We all faked our responses, indicating to the world that we had some control over this madness. But we were wrong, or lying. Through it all, added to mounting personal trauma, we managed to conjure up a sincere project that we felt needed to be made – and so, The Art of Making Friends – a Short Musical Film was born.
Truly, we had poured our hearts and souls into this project. It felt like the perfect homage to the tale of the year. I presented and pitched the progression of the musical film numerous times to my lecturers and they were on board every step of the way. This was by no means the cure for all the lows, although it did remind us that there is a fire within us, and it warms us on our coldest days.
As devastating as the outbreak was on our physical and mental health and productivity, it did offer an opportunity for creative problem solving.
My story certainly does not rank high devastation, at least in comparison to some of the horrors that were lived and experienced. Millions died, many more fell desperately ill. However, I tell my tale in the hopes of shedding light to some of the unspoken personal tales that have unfolded. I am sure you too have an interesting anecdote or two of your own. We should take comfort in having survived this far. You can be forgiven for your fear and dread. If you possess none, all the more health to you.
So as vaccines are slowly being injected into arms, perhaps the time has come for your own sincere reflection. It truly has been an odd time to be alive. But here we are – alive. For that alone, I am appreciative. The time has come to convert pain into art.
Mahatma Ulimwengu is a writer and musician. He is a graduate of Live Performance & Music from AFDA in Cape Town.
