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My name is Peris Wangare.  I am 30 years old. They always say that you never believe that something is real until it hits someone you love.

Well, Covid-19 hit home and took away my closest uncle, Eric Mwangi. He was a truck driver and one day he came home sick.

My aunt, Esther Waithera thought it was just malaria and took him to hospital, but after three days he passed away.

It was one of the saddest moments in my life as he has left a young family. His wife is a stay-at-home mum so you can imagine how it is for them losing a breadwinner in such a tough economic time.  

 Despite the sadness we feel, there is nothing as horrifying as watching your loved one being buried like an outcast.

The funeral was short and only 15 people were allowed to attend despite the fact that ours is a large and closely-knit family.

My grandmother– my uncle’s mum– couldn’t even be there to bury her son and this pains her up to date.

The worst thing is that once people knew that my uncle died from Covid, they began stigmatising us.

They started isolating my aunty out of fear that she had also been infected. The fact that we handled his body, we had to isolate in our homes. I was so scared and prayed so hard. 

All I can tell people is that the disease is real and they should take care. Testing negative was a relief to me though it’s made me fearful and conscious about health and safety.

I don’t just visit people and if I must, I always have a mask on and sanitiser. This also applies during this period when everyone seems to have stopped heeding  Covid rules.

Losing someone close makes you see how real it is and how short life is. I also eat well to boost my immunity.