An Iranian oncology nurse navigates the chaos, loss and uncertainty of life in Kuwait post COVID-19

English transcript | نسخة عربية

Nationality: Iranian
Occupation: Nurse
Date of interview: 17 August 2020
Language of interview: English

Hussein caught COVID. It was unexpected...he has worked in Kuwait for the past 17 years as an oncology nurse, and was exposed through a patient. Eight out of 28 nurses on the unit had been infected, and when Hussein started to show symptoms he was given a chest X-ray and sent home. After five days, he was finally able to get tested and was confirmed positive. He quarantined at home in one room, separated from his wife and 16-year old daughter. His wife, also a nurse, later caught the virus as well. Hussein feels like the government system is good until it gets to the clinics, where communication breaks down. He was sent back and forth to three clinics before being tested and each gave different information. Sometimes the medical forms he had to fill out were not available in English. The quarantine protocols shifted from 28 to 10 to 14 days while he was sick. Some people weren’t aware of the policy changes and re-entered the workforce while probably still positive. Hussein believes that the system has gradually broken down, with less testing and less enforcement of health protocols.

During lockdown, his family was depressed. His daughter missed meeting up with friends, and his wife wasn’t working. They felt claustrophobic and anxious. They were unable to travel in February to visit family in Iran, and his 22 year old son studying in Iran couldn’t come ‘home’ due to the travel ban. The long separation has been hard. In addition to Hussein’s concerns about the family’s visa renewals, he was also worried his son would end up losing his residency if he couldn’t come back in time. Hussein has begun to feel that his status in Kuwait is unstable. He reads about Kuwait reducing the quotas of foreigners, and now residencies need to be renewed yearly. On social media, Kuwaitis are writing about disliking expats and some expats are writing bad things about Kuwait. It increases his anxiety about his future here. He already felt things were different here than in his home country. There is no real “neighborhood”. His neighbors are Egyptian and Indian and they say ‘hi’, but there is no community, no support network.

Thankfully, his work colleagues and the hospital have been supportive. When he returned to work, it was difficult because he continued to get fatigued easily, as did his colleagues who had COVID. One of the nurses caught the virus twice, so they never feel like they are fully safe or immune. They have also been severely short staffed so the work has been much more demanding. He admires his colleagues who ended up working double their time to cover for those who were sick. His Filipino friend, a nurse who had worked for years in Kuwait, delayed her annual leave to help and ended up dying of COVID. Another Filipino colleague and an Egyptian colleague both lost their mothers to COVID and couldn’t travel for their parents’ funerals. He feels these things. He is disappointed that frontline nurses were not given better information and care, as if nursing was just a regular job. It is not-- seven or eight other medical staff at his workplace have also died from COVID. Hussein worries he could be next. He realizes now that plans are only plans, they may never happen. The feeling of chaos and instability is compounded by the contradictory rulings and circulars issued by Kuwait’s ministries regarding the status of expats. He is not sure what all this will mean for his family’s future.

“I changed. I felt some things, you know, inside my soul is deeply affected by these things and changed really because the, you know, this like is not a joke. People say tiny virus changed all the world. So of course it changed the person also.”

In the clip above, Hussein talks about the unease and nervousness brought upon by the anti-expat sentiment which heightened during the pandemic.

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