In this series, MOJEH asks five women how Covid-19 changed their world forever. Here, Angela Giuffrida, Rome correspondent for The Guardian, tells her story
On the day that Italy’s coronavirus outbreak suddenly emerged, I had a sense that life as we knew it had stopped. I filed the story for The Guardian from one of the country’s most beautiful places – Lake Albano, about 40mins by train from Rome. But the scenery was at odds with the threat that was looming.
The first time I properly paid attention to the virus was in January, when an Irish man living under lockdown in Wuhan, China, was describing the atmosphere to LBC, a British talk radio station. It made me laugh when he said, “you only pop out for basic necessities, such as toilet roll.” Why toilet roll? Little did I know, it would soon become one of the world’s most sought-after commodities.
The conversation seemed so surreal, but one that originated from a place far away. I could never have imagined that, less than two months on, Italy would be at the centre of a global pandemic and I would be both covering it and living it.
Since I started working for The Guardian I’ve covered an earthquake, an avalanche and the collapse of the Morandi bridge in Genoa, northern Italy. I also reported from onboard a migrant rescue ship in the Mediterranean. All of these were challenging and emotional experiences, but reporting Covid-19 has been the most testing and harrowing of my career so far.
One of the reasons is that, especially in the early days, so much about this frightening virus was unknown. I felt a huge sense of responsibility to tell the story correctly, but with even experts arguing with each other, it was difficult. Seeing friends in Italy worrying about the impact on their small businesses, I felt guilty. Journalists were accused, at least on social media, of ‘blowing things out of proportion’. But the more I wrote, the more I learned, and the more I was able to tell the story in a coherent way which, fortunately, had an impact on readers living in countries where coronavirus was yet to drastically hit.
At the same time, I’ve been heartbroken by what Italy has gone through, and continue to worry about the health of my family and friends living here and beyond. But how has this experience changed me as a person? Firstly, the lockdown has (hopefully) made me a better cook. I am also more nostalgic than usual, realising even more who and what are important to me, and grateful that so far this horrendous illness has not touched anyone I love. In terms of work, journalism is a highly competitive field, but when writing about Covid-19, rivalry has gone out of the window and brought colleagues closer together.
When we emerge from this, I doubt we will return to life as we knew it. And I’m not sure I would want to. One of the positive aspects has been the solidarity and humanity I've witnessed, a testament to peoples’ strength when facing a crisis together. I hope this level of humanity continues. I also hope that our new normal means taking better care of our environment as well as seriously addressing issues of social inequality, and appreciating our true heroes – the medical staff, transport workers, the people who stack supermarket shelves, the cleaners and rubbish collectors – all those who worked on the frontline with little pay, while we were all safe at home.
