Coronavirus. Lockdown. Masks. Essential Services. Care FIJI app.

All these different words have become such a huge part of our daily conversations in this country. And still we must choose to be grateful. Why? Because it is the only way to get through something like this. A world pandemic was announced last year and for almost a whole year, it seemed like we existed outside of that world.

And then April 2021 happened.

The first break in the containment efforts at our borders of the covid-19 virus that continues to take the world by storm.

The same month news breaks out of citizens in India gasping for oxygen as a result of the worst of this virus.

And here we were having our first community contact.

A solider was identified as the source, a woman also carrying the same variant didn’t even know that she had exposed her entire family.

Protocols were called into question. Panic slowly irrupted. Everybody looked to blame. Like Adam we turned to our blessing and called him at fault as if he and his fellow soldiers were not part of the very reason our containment strategies lasted almost a year.

Still we weren’t satisfied.

The numbers of members of the community testing positive for the virus continued to grow and yet one man takes a stand each evening to let the country know, that for now, we must be still. He is quick to acknowledge that he does not stand alone and commends the work done by thousands of individuals around him.

A doctor by profession. Retired they claimed. Confirmed as the new permanent secretary for Fiji’s Ministry of Health. He rises.

Every evening thousands tune in to these live press conferences for an update. Almost like vultures they listen to his every word waiting to devour anything that seems out of line but they recognise something familiar. They continue to listen and realise there’s a desperation in his plea that reminds them of family, of working together for the greater good.

They share a common goal. The goal to better contain the spread of this deadly virus.

It’s not a political statement, it’s not something they’re accustomed to. They ask for the honourable prime minister and the country’s attorney general. They question their whereabouts as if they didn’t ask for experts to be giving this briefing each time they took the stand in the past.

A woman often stands to the left of the doctor giving sign language interpretation that in and of itself tells a story and she not only captures her intended audience but the nation as a whole.

A different doctor rises to take her stand. She made her mark long ago but continues to strive for restoration because her new born is the hope she cannot fail. She delivers her numbers in grace, statistics and figures, it all works together like a symphony.

And then there is some time given to journalists to ask the questions that thousands ponder on around the country. Each take their turn, each braving through the quest for clarity in the midst of this new wave. They know they shape the resounding echos that last well beyond their own newsrooms.

They impact lives. Each of them. The doctors. The interpreter. The journalist. The camera crew. The sound engineer. The media team. The hundreds and thousands of individuals who all work together for this moment. This season.

It is indeed a privilege to be here.

For such a time as this, they exist to make a shift. Even if they don’t know it. They do. Each one.

The cop. The translator. The minister. The cook. The time keeper. The son. The daughter. The leader. The nurse. The tester. The medical personnel. The law enforcement personnel. The lawyer. The man. The woman. The volunteer. The helping hand. The sponsor. The donor. The economist. The soldier.

Every one of them. Made for such a time as this. God bless them. God bless your people. God bless Fiji.