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My vaccination experience in our ‘disciplined’ society

19 May 2021

By Sithara Ismail   After so much pushing from friends (my university batchmate and a close friend in particular), I went to get my Covid-19 vaccine on 15 May. The whole of last week, I tried to book a time and place through “electronic channelling” but it was always full. I live in Wellawatta, Colombo 6. Hence, I tried both the Medical Officer of Health (MOH) District Five office in Wellawatta and the MOH District Four office in Kirula Road but was never able to get an appointment online. Then, a friend suggested that there is a walk-in vaccination centre at Roxy Gardens but wanted me to go early in the morning, as he was able to get the jab within two hours of having got to the centre very early. After watching television footage of people lining up for many hours, the lines being quite long and crowded, I was worried about getting infected with Covid-19 while being in line. I have elderly persons living with me at home. Roxy Gardens sounded like a good option. I woke up at 4.30 a.m. and got ready to go and get the vaccine, nervous because I was not convinced of taking the Chinese Sinopharm vaccine (maybe because I am prejudiced!). A cousin of mine wanted to come too. So, we both reached the Roxy Gardens community centre at 6.10 a.m. When we walked in, there were about 40 people already. There were about 30 chairs and a tent for the people to line up. Since the chairs were full, we lined up behind the chairs in the tent, maintaining a one-metre distance. At around 7 a.m., municipal workers came to sweep the premises. At about 7.15 a.m., a young man who was smartly dressed came into the community centre. He must have been a part of the health administration (maybe even a MOH). He got the municipality workers to further clean up the place and distributed a consent form and a vaccination card to those of us who were there to get vaccinated. The young man was very polite and kind to everyone and explained how to fill the form. I saw him helping elderly people to fill the form. He helped a differently abled person to move into the centre. He asked those not from the Wellawatta area to raise their hands. Having noticed a few hands raised, he informed us that in that centre, they will give the vaccination to all those who have arrived there. He emphasised that although some people are putting out videos in the media claiming that the local people do not get the vaccine, this is a walk-in vaccination centre where anyone could come to get vaccinated and that he would not check identity cards but would serve in the order each one had come to the centre. By then the line had grown into three rows of over 200 people. As time passed, the line got longer and stretched outside and around the centre. In some instances, the one-metre distance became half a metre, irrespective of the health officer’s constant alert. At 7.45 a.m. or so, the health officer got a few more assistants to help him ensure people maintain the proper distance, and when it started drizzling, he was keen that the people not get wet and made everyone move carefully to accommodate more. At 8 a.m., two armed military men walked in, inspected the premises, went to the front gate, and took charge of allowing people into the centre. I spotted some police officers as well by the side of them. At 8.10 a.m. or so, a lady military officer (a doctor perhaps) drove her car into the centre. Following her car, a three-wheeler carrying the vaccine box arrived at the scene. Within 10 minutes, a bus load of military officers came and lined up. In the meantime, a high-ranking army officer carrying a little stick walked in with his guards to whom all military officers bowed. Other officers at the gate saluted him and waited for his instructions. An army banner was put up behind the vaccination table that was set up by the health officer, and the military (mostly women) took their positions at the front of the desk and the others went into the centre with their personal protective equipment. The health officials were pushed back and the young officer who was vocal until the military arrived and his team became invisible. In the interim, I observed a few policemen coming in and standing at the entrance with the military in order to control the crowd. Thereafter, many posh vehicles came up to the centre’s gate and people from those vehicles got down and were ushered into the centre by the military and the Police. We were in the line for over two-and-a-half hours whereas these people did not stay in line even for a few minutes. Before they started vaccinating those of us who had stayed in the queue for over two-and-a-half hours, a “very important persons (VIP) line” was created and immediately they were all led to the registration desk without even them having to fill forms (forms were filled while they stood in front of the registration desk). Despite feeling wronged, no one said anything, as the late arrivals and favoured ones were accompanied by either police officers or military men, thus making everyone scared. Some may have even thought that the Army was doing a great service and therefore allowed them to get their people the first jabs by jumping the queue. The health officers could not say anything other than helplessly watch what was unfolding and the young health officer who was very friendly deliberately avoided eye contact with us. Thereafter, at some point, he came with eight young men and women and told us that these people stood in the line yesterday (14 May) for many hours, showed the form he had given them the previous day with a seal, and asked whether they could go in with us. None of us said anything, looking at his plight. At 8.45 a.m., the top military guy gave the green light for our line to move towards the vaccination registration desk. I noticed that the front desk was occupied by military officers. They had laptops with World Health Organisation (WHO) stickers on them and asked for our personal details. Once in a while, the top military man and his soldiers took people from outside and placed them in between those of us in the line. A few of such unfairly planted ones were not required to fill the forms, whereas we all were given forms on arrival and the officer ensured that we filled them properly, including the consent form. He insisted that we put our phone number and address saying that we can be informed when the second dose is ready. All formality and procedure were only for the lesser mortals, the citizens, whilst the military did as they pleased. It started raining a bit, so the health officer ensured that the old people above 60 move in next to the military-created VIP line. Maybe he felt compelled to show something to our military men. We were put in the third line and the top uniformed man pointed his stick at us and asked us to maintain the distance and raised his voice to some old people who rushed to the front desk because it started raining. Anyhow, at last I got vaccinated at 9.25 a.m. and came out and saw many old and feeble ones getting drenched. At the entrance, the young health officer was negotiating with a group of well-built men, this time a set of uniformed fire brigade men (they were from the fire station located next to the Roxy Gardens community centre). He said: “I know you all need the vaccine. These people have been waiting in line for over four hours, be patient, you will get your vaccine soon.” And he turned very politely and asked the military men, who were trying to create another special line for them, whether they could be sent in later. I moved away quickly because I felt that I might say something that could aggravate the tension. Anyway, by that time, I saw many hundreds of people waiting in a line that stretched long in the rain and some trying to take shelter under trees and umbrellas of newly acquainted friends with whom they may have shared their frustrations. I wished that they all got the much-needed vaccine, but I lost hope when I spotted the Police allowing more posh “VIP” vehicles into the Roxy Garden community centre gate, filled with people portraying themselves as important and will keep breaking the rules and taking improper advantage of their connections with the help of uniformed men, and in the process, displacing the needy, the elderly, and the deserving. This is the virtuous and disciplined society that our President promised and has delivered with the military’s help. (The writer is a social worker)


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