I have been a sports fan for quite some time. The kind of a fan who wakes up in the middle of the night to watch Giannis Antetokounmpo leading the Milwaukee Bucks to their first ever NBA Championship in 50 years thus ending the Phoenix Suns’ rather incredible season in tears. During the game, the Bucks’ arena, Fiserv Forum, was almost at full capacity and other 65,000 fans, without a mask on and not observing social distancing, were gathered outside the arena backing their team with chants, “Bucks in 6.” This game kicked-off a few hours after the Covid-19 restrictions in the U.K were lifted, illuminating hope for normalcy after a long time in the fight against the pandemic. U.K lifted Covid-19 restrictions a few weeks after hosting the EURO 2020 finals in which they lost to Italy on penalties. Prior to the game, thousands of England fans had poured out in the streets of London to celebrate their team for reaching the first major international finals since 1966 when they last won the World Cup. In Wembley Stadium, two-thirds of its capacity were occupied. Watching the game, you could hardly spot a fan with a mask on. It was like they were living in pre Covid-19 days or the pandemic was some horror in a fiction novel. But watching these scenes of how in the Western part of the world life is slowly getting back to normal does not sit well with me. While writing this article, it is day 14 of lockdown in Kigali, Rwanda, and almost a month without getting past my home gate. Covid cases have been rising over the past days like never before and deaths are hitting new numbers almost every day regardless of the strict measures imposed by the government since the outbreak of the pandemic. Rwanda shares this horror with many countries in Africa as the continent battles the third wave of infections. Hospitals in countries like Uganda and Tunisia, to mention a few, are reaching a breaking point and only lucky patients can be admitted in the intensive care unit. As the cases keep surging, people are at a high risk, economies are on the verge of collapsing and the mental health of families losing their loved ones to the pandemic is hanging on a thread. We all know a vaccine is the only thing to get us back to normal but at this point it is like vaccines are for some, not all. The pandemic which was recently a world’s concern, is soon becoming a concern for poor countries. This is all because of vaccine inequality. Rich countries have stocked up billions of vaccines leaving poor countries to let fate decide what’s next for them. According to reports by The Guardian, the rich countries (14% of the world’s population) had already bought 53% of the best vaccines. By June this year, the US had already secured 1.3 billion doses (five per person), Canada and Australia, one with a total population of 40 million and the other 25million, had brokered deals for 450 million and 170 million doses respectively, while the EU had secured 3 billion doses (6.6 per person) according to QUARTZ. Across the globe, 3.5 billion people have been vaccinated and among them, only 1.6% are from Africa. Vaccine inequality is putting over 1.2 billion people in Africa at risk. Not that the continent is waiting for a Good Samaritan to donate her the vaccines, but also trying to purchase them with her money seems impossible. In late June 2021, when Strive Masiyiwa, African Union Special Envoy on the fight against Covid-19, was invited as a panelist at Milken Institute, he narrated how together with his team they had relentlessly tried to purchase vaccines for Africa but all in vain. In December 2020, with the ability and willingness to purchase vaccines and ready to pay upfront, Strive approached “all vaccine manufacturers” but all had the same reply, “all capacity for 2021 had been sold.” As rich countries keep hoarding vaccines, revenues of pharma companies are skyrocketing. Massachusetts based Moderna, estimates to earn $18bn in 2021 in sales of its coronavirus vaccine, the first time the company will make profits since it was founded in 2010. In 2020, U.K’s AstraZeneca made $25bn from its sales (The Guardian, 2021). Recently, Forbes Magazine put out a list of 50 people in the healthcare industry who became pandemic billionaires in 2020. On top of the list are CEOs of BioNTech and Modern, Ugur Sahin and Stephane Bancel each worth $4.2 billion and $4.1 billion respectively. As the revenues of these big pharma companies reach new heights, they are less concerned about the lives of people in poor countries. In October 2020 when India and South Africa requested WTO to waive temporarily intellectual properties’ rights for Covid-19 vaccines and treatments to allow companies in poor countries to produce jabs with no risks of facing legal actions, big pharma companies backfired the request saying it will push back drug companies from innovation. “(Waiving patent) destroys the incentive for companies to take risks to find solutions for the next health emergency” Michelle McMurry-Heath, President and CEO at Biotechnology Innovation Organization wrote in The Economist. All this is taking Africa back to the worst days when it was grappling with AIDS. The days when pharma companies paid deaf ears to the cries of millions of Africans and Indians dying of the disease by not making antiretroviral drugs (ARVS) accessible in poor countries. The drugs were costing $15,000 per year. Totally out of reach of people in such countries. During this time, the companies were busy selling to Western countries where they collected 90% of their profits. In the recent G7 summit, the world’s rich countries pledged to donate 1 billion Covid vaccine doses to poorer countries by 2023. But any time not now is too far. People are dying every day and economies are falling heavily. We need the vaccines now. Vaccine hoarding is indeed a moral issue but it also should be an eye opener to Africa that when in trouble, we are on our own. It is now much needed than ever that African leaders and the private sector join forces in establishing strong health facilities, ones that can withstand any health crisis that might come in the future. Waiting always to be helped is really costing us a lot. The writer is a Rwandan writer, social and political commentator and a media practitioner. The views expressed in this article are of the writer.
