The world was hit by coronavirus, an exceedingly small non-biological particle with only an outer membrane coat covering its genetic shell. Because of its rapid spread, the World Health Organisation declares the outbreak a public health emergency urging governments to take immediate steps to shield citizens from its ravaging effects. In accordance with this advice, the South African government declares a state of national disaster and promptly closes the country's borders, shutting down the economy and quarantines its people for thirty-one days. On the eve of a long-awaited trip to Amanzimtoti for reunion with his fiancé, the plans of a young doctor are put on hold for an indeterminate period. With four suitcases neatly packed in the boot of his old Honda sedan and no room to lay his head in, the doctor finds himself marooned. A brief telephonic conversation with his fiancé convinces him that crashing at a commune with her cousin in Kempton Park would not be a bad proposition, advice he accepts with nudging. Set against the backdrop of a small town east of Johannesburg, a town whose qualities– unrelenting and unquittable–many readers will recognise. Like the rest of the country, the young doctor waits for the lifting of the lockdown so things could get back to where they were before. Fate said there are some lessons and am the tutor. Things take a sudden and unexpected turn; a brief interlude pushes his stay beyond original plan. The promised relief: food parcels, emergency social relief distress grants, arrival of vaccines gets pushed out by weeks then months in the end nothing comes through. Resentment often eclipses goodwill. Broken promises aggravate the already grave situation precipitating a turn of events none could have predicted. Through the doctor's propulsive voice, a narrative that reveals xenophobia, exclusion, manifested lies in ways inimical to those on the margins of society. His voice gives insights into the ruination of a broken society. Narrated with great poignancy, a story that can move you. No story is perfect. The form does not permit perfection; it is complex, multi-layered, and close to the messiness of life. As well as it being a memoir to our survival, it is about resilience of humans making sense of the losses we have all suffered. I cannot imagine right now, but there will come a time when the pandemic is behind us. When that moment arrives, it will be apt to ask, 'what the world would be if eligibility to socialize, work, and travel were contingent on citizens producing proof of vaccination to gain access to public rendezvous?