The outdoor summer was going well. Covid cases were low. We started to spend days without the continuous weight of dread and fear.
We looked forward optimistically to the safe resumption of indoor activities for children, and indoor hospitality for the adults.
Parents, especially mothers, made their work plans around the availability of indoor camps; children looked forward to time with their friends, entertainment and normality.
But Covid 19 had different ideas. There was a collective outcry when the chief medical officer sounded a warning about the dangers of the new Delta variant.
Much lobbying ensued which ultimately resulted in legislation that allows vaccinated people to dine and drink indoors whilst their unvaccinated counterparts must remain outside.
Unless, that is, they are unvaccinated children, in which case they can accompany their parents indoors.
In the midst of the noise, and the agendas, and the vested interests, barely a head turned when one week ago, and in the wake of a hotly contested by-election, indoor summer camps for children were deemed too risky to go ahead.
How could it be safe to bring children indoors to a pub or restaurant, yet not be safe to let them come together in a summer camp environment, where social distancing, hand hygiene, and other measures would be carefully applied?
How would they tell their children, yet again, that something they had looked forward to was cancelled due to Covid?
How would they juggle their work commitments without the ability to leave their children in a safe, enjoyable environment for several hours each day?
And these concerns and questions were met with silence. Which is something the women of this pandemic have become used to.
In the pantheon of podium ministers, the women are conspicuous in their absence.
When women’s groups wrote to our leaders, asking for a meeting to explore the concerns of how the pandemic had affected them, the response was silence.
When Covid Women’s Voices wrote to the
back in February, highlighting the strains and burdens placed on women on the frontline, our clarion call ‘We can’t do another wave. And you can’t do it without us’, was ignored by those in power.They say that in space, no one can hear you scream. In Ireland if you are a woman, or a child, no one can hear you scream. No one can hear you sob. Because no one seems interested in listening.
We are struggling. The largely female frontline cannot take another double whammy of juggling the demands of caring in the home with the heartache of caring for the critically ill.
We asked in February for support with childcare, in the case of schools being closed; the vague shoulder-shrugging in response to indoor camps being closed, thereby leaving us in a similar situation, gives us a chilling sense of déjà vu.
We are worried. We worry about our children, denied so much, pushed again and again to the back of the queue of priorities.
We worry about our young people, who have sacrificed so much to protect our vulnerable.
We worry about our older people, who have suffered so much in this past year.
And we worry about ourselves, because we feel exhausted, side-lined and ignored at every juncture in this pandemic.
We are concerned. At the same time as Covid infections rise beyond one thousand cases per day we watch as the hospitality industry happily prepares to welcome people back indoors.
We watch as unvaccinated youngsters prepare to serve those who are keen to eat, drink, and spend money.
We watch as parents are told on the one hand that their children can accompany them into these convivial spaces, whilst on the other hand, they are advised not to bring their unvaccinated youngsters into a space that is ideal for the spread of the Delta variant.
We fear that it will flood classrooms, and have long-term, unknown consequences for our youth, who will be the largest unvaccinated population in the country.
And we know what must be done. If the podium ministers listen to nothing else, perhaps they will listen to our voice on this one.
Schools must be made safe. They must remain open, but they must be made safe.
Up until now, teachers and principals, without exception, have done their level best to keep their pupils safe. And they have been largely successful.
However, the Delta variant is a different beast: It is 50% more contagious than the Alpha variant that reached our shores in December which in turn was 50% more transmissible than the original strain.
Opening a window in a classroom of 30 children will not provide the ventilation needed to keep Delta at bay. Children need more space, better ventilation, better mitigation.
This can not be a quick fix; Covid has outsmarted us for a year-and-a-half now.
Everything we do from this point onwards should be focussed on preparing our schools for the fourth wave, and keeping our schools, their staff, and pupils safe against every new variant curveball that Covid throws at us.
We know that our children, as the largest unvaccinated population in the country, will be uniquely vulnerable this time around, but we also know that they need the security, the safety, the interaction that school provides.
We know that there will be a significant cost to schools, and the taxpayer in order to make schools safe and to protect children from infection.
We know that during previous waves, removing children from the school environment has helped to control infection numbers, but has come at a huge cost to the children. We know all of this.
But can anybody hear us? Is anybody listening? So far, no one has heard us scream. Now, for the sake of our children, all one million of them, we must roar.
- Dr Niamh Lynch is a consultant paediatrician and a member of the Covid Women's Voices group