This archive report was first published on 3 August 2020.
On March 13, 2020, the first case of COVID-19 was confirmed in Kenya, sparking a wave of fear and uncertainty across the country. The novel coronavirus, it seemed, was the great equalizer, capable of infecting anyone regardless of their social status.
However, as the pandemic progressed, it became clear that the virus was not the great equalizer after all. Instead, it has preyed on and magnified Kenya's existing inequalities, leaving a trail of death and despair in its wake.
One of the most striking examples of this is the way in which COVID-19 patients are buried. While the wealthy and well-connected are laid to rest with dignity and respect, the poor and marginalized are often treated with disrespect and haste.
Take, for instance, the case of 59-year-old James Oyugi, who died from COVID-19 related complications in April 2020. His body was collected from the hospital ward where he died and buried in a shallow grave without a coffin, in the dead of night. His children, who were navigating a night curfew, were left to mourn their father's passing without even being able to attend a proper funeral.
Meanwhile, the burials of the wealthy and well-connected are conducted with a sense of decorum and respect. In May 2020, the secretary-general of the Presbyterian Church of East Africa, Peter Kariuki Kania, was buried in a graceful manner in Kikuyu, Kiambu County, in a ceremony attended by Health Cabinet Secretary Mutahi Kagwe and Deputy President William Ruto.
As the pandemic continues to rage on, it has become clear that COVID-19 is not just a health crisis, but also a social and economic one. It has exposed the deep-seated inequalities that exist in our society, and has left many to wonder if we will ever be able to bridge the gap between the haves and the have-nots.
