I have been trying, and failing, to convince a few people in my life to get vaccinated. I began by insisting that they do, a few months ago, back when it was still possible for some of us to get that now elusive first shot. They vehemently refused at the time, saying they had no intention of injecting anything into their bodies without knowing what it was or what it could do to them. There were all kinds of rumours floating around, they explained, and they wanted to know what these vaccines were capable of doing before they submitted to the prick of an injection. Living was, apparently, not high on their list of priorities.

As the months progressed, and it became increasingly clear that all the banging of plates we were asked to do a year ago would have no impact whatsoever, the same people began asking friends and neighbours about the possibility of a vaccine. They were still hesitant to take it, for reasons that still make no sense, but were finally ready to accept that something called Covid-19 really existed. Until then, it was something they laughed at on the way to a crowded store or leisurely stroll. I don’t know what convinced them but believe the cries of people whose relatives had died gasping for breath may have played a part.