An Indian white-collar professional recalls his eventful journey through institutional quarantine

English transcript | نسخة عربية

Nationality: Indian
Occupation: Marketing coordinator
Date of interview: 16 August 2020
Language of interview: English

Farhan moved to Kuwait from Rajasthan right after graduating from university, almost 14 years ago. He works in graphic design and production at the marketing department of a large Kuwaiti holding company. His wife and two young daughters are back home in India, and he shares an apartment with his brother and five other relatives. In April he begins to feel sick. He has a recurring fever, and is afraid because of his asthma. When others in his accommodation begin to show symptoms, he tries to convince them all to go to the clinic, but they are scared and refuse. Farhan decides to take the lead and finally goes to get tested with his brother. They are sent to Amiri from their area clinic, where they are given a swab and an X-ray. To his shock, they are told they can’t leave the hospital until they get their results, which would take approximately two days. They haven’t brought anything along with them, haven’t told their families where they were going. Their concern increases when they realize they will have to share a space with other patients also awaiting their results, in a large hall with 50 beds. If he doesn’t already have Corona, he will surely catch it now, he thinks.

Two days later, his results come back inconclusive. He is told he has to wait another day to take a second swab. Five days after arriving at Amiri, he finally gets his result: positive. He is terrified. His family back home is terrified. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him – there are so many rumors flying around, and even the medical staff can’t seem to tell him anything. Finally, he is put on a bus and taken to Mishref. The facility makes a good impression on him – they have separate cubicles, good beds, good food, and charging stations. The nurses tell him he will have to stay there for 14 days and will then be able to go home. He begins to make peace with his situation - I can handle this, he thinks. His fever is also gone – scared off by the experience at Amiri. Nine days into this quarantine, he is given a paper that says he is asymptomatic. I finally get to go home, he thinks. Instead, he is told that he is being sent to Jaber stadium. When he gets there, he learns that he will have to stay there for 14 more days. After an initial feeling of exasperation, he again decides to deal with it. He doesn’t have much of a choice anyway. He becomes friends with the men who arrived in his same “batch,” and is blown away by some of the conversations they have. Some of them remark on the fact that they are much better off there than in their normal accommodation, where they share a room with 20 other people. It’s a wake-up call for Farhan, who gets a better sense of how other people in Kuwait live.

Fourteen days pass. They are still there, with no signs of an imminent departure. They follow up with nurses and doctors, and finally find someone who shares the release date they have on their paperwork – eight days later. They are not told why. Again, they don’t have a choice. Finally, the auspicious day arrives. Farhan and his companions are put on a bus and taken to a blood bank. They are told they are to donate blood, and will be brought home after. But everyone is afraid of giving blood. What if they test positive and get sent back? When the first man from the bus gets forced down, he tells the doctor he can’t donate blood because he is on an empty stomach. The doctor misunderstands him and thinks he is saying that he hasn’t been fed properly. He gets furious and calls Jaber stadium to demand an explanation. When he is assured everyone was given three meals a day, his anger turns to the man and his bus companions for lying. To punish them, he decides they aren’t going home after all – they will be sent back to Jaber stadium. They beg for mercy, on the verge of tears, but with no luck. Farhan and nine other men picked at random from the bus are sent back to Jaber stadium. Once there, they feel the hostility of both the staff and fellow “patients” – why would they say such a thing?! The men are purposely ignored when new release dates are announced. Days pass, they don’t hear anything.

Until one day, they are finally released. When Farhan’s bus gets to the blood bank, he is the first one to run off the bus to donate. “I was so scared, I was just like, khalas just take my blood, whatever you want just take, just drop me home, man. That's it”. And finally, 36 days after his quarantine officially began, Farhan got to go home.

In the clip above, Farhan talks about his experience at Amiri hospital after he went there with his brother to get tested, and his subsequent move to an institutional quarantine facility in Mishref.

اقرأ القصة باللغة العربية