On 5 March 2021, the anniversary of the first case of Covid-19 identified in South Africa, broadcast media marked the occasion with special programming and a series of particularly fawning interviews with Mkhize and Karim.

The tone was that which we might expect at the celebration of a great achievement. Anecdotes drawn from the official response to the virus were exchanged, and there was a distinctly self-congratulatory air about the discussions. No one seemed willing to spoil the party by pointing out that those whose leadership was being feted had presided over a response which, at that stage, had cost anything from the official figure of some 50 000 lives to the excess death count of more than 138 000 and at least 1.5 million cases. Nor did anyone think it noteworthy that, according to official figures, even after the ‘second wave’ had reportedly swept through the rest of the continent, South Africa had recorded, adjusted for population, almost double the number of cases as Morocco, the second worst affected African country, and 33 times as many as Nigeria, the second worst affected sub-Saharan African country – and that its official death toll, again adjusted for population, was three and a half times Morocco’s, 93 times as high as Nigeria’s. One broadcaster congratulated the scientists for their ‘prescience’ in predicting that there would be a severe epidemic.

This response seemed to sum up reality throughout the pandemic. ‘First World’ South Africa, much like Noah in the biblical account, looked out on its devastated surroundings, so graphically described by Bank in the Eastern Cape, and blamed everyone but itself. Its response was not grief or pain – it was a hearty pat on the back for the government, the scientists, and, presumably, themselves. The reference to ‘prescience’ seemed to say it all. To use an analogy which would no doubt strike a chord with the ‘First World’, it was as if a company board had hired a chief executive and a team of consultants to address a challenge. The consultants insisted that financial ruin was inevitable, the chief executive agreed and did nothing to prevent it and, as the firm edged ever closer to the brink, the board congratulated both on predicting the disaster which loomed. They continued to insist that they were superior to other companies whose management and consultants had placed preventing ruin ahead of predicting it.

This response seemed to sum up reality throughout the pandemic. ‘First World’ South Africa, much like Noah in the biblical account, looked out on its devastated surroundings, so graphically described by Bank in the Eastern Cape, and blamed everyone but itself. Its response was not grief or pain – it was a hearty pat on the back for the government, the scientists, and, presumably, themselves. The reference to ‘prescience’ seemed to say it all. To use an analogy which would no doubt strike a chord with the ‘First World’, it was as if a company board had hired a chief executive and a team of consultants to address a challenge. The consultants insisted that financial ruin was inevitable, the chief executive agreed and did nothing to prevent it and, as the firm edged ever closer to the brink, the board congratulated both on predicting the disaster which loomed. They continued to insist that they were superior to other companies whose management and consultants had placed preventing ruin ahead of predicting it.