This post will provide you with an example of a Covid-19 pandemic essay. Humanity confronted a variety of issues during the end of the 20th century that were directly tied to important developments in the information and telecommunications fields. Furthermore, these examples of informational and narrative essays about the Covid-19 pandemic will demonstrate the global scenario. In Uzbekistan, when the first instance of the virus was identified on March 15, 2020, an Uzbek person returning from France, the infection was proven to have spread to Uzbekistan. Then, any Uzbek people who live in abroad, came to home in Uzbekistan were isolated and kept in quarantine. Day by day quarantine was strengthened after the migrants of Uzbek arrived. After that the government announced that entertainment venues, such as: restaurants, wedding houses, cafes, bars and parks would be closed and other types of family gatherings would be prohibited. Quickly in companies, organizations and schools, universities, lyceums, colleges worked remotely as well as requiring the use of protective masks. Soon, In Uzbekistan promptly closed the border. As we are human beings, there are many difficulties for people, especially poor people who works daily and masters who takes money for their work. Imagine your own eyes, during the pandemic streets empty, there is no cars, buses, and other trucks except service cars: such as ambulance, police and special organizations cars who worked hospital, government and other carrying cars that goods, items and other pharmacy drugs. There is no human beings at the street, except security guards who placed every 100 or 150 meters and they carefully observe every individuals and stopped who passed the roads and police officer asked any people questions like "where are you going?" and "what is the reason to go" if people don't respond questions seriously as well as their reason unimportant, the policeman returned people home. Moreover, the police officer took over the individual's serious punishment if there was necessary. When the day the self-isolation regime was announced by government, 1 day ago before pandemic, prices rocketed at shops, grocery stores and street markets the purpose is increased demand for primary goods and as well as restrictions , people stocked primary goods such as: sunflower oil, rice, potato and other cooking ingredients. Many villagers have consumed their own grown vegetables and fruits. By the way, government aid many people whom with lack of money and severe conditions. They gave poor people different kinds of pets to expand and as well as to run their own business and were informed the condition of elderly people and as well as gave support. Moreover, many villagers who work in the city hardly ever go to the house, once a week the reason was during the pandemic restrictions, police officers did not let anyone walk in the street. One of the main causes were condition of the people stayed worse day by day, And the governor separated who stayed worse, and took care of every patient. Pandemic gave lesson for us such as: every people cared about one another and helped each other and supported. Uzbekistan still lack of communication systems, and this impacts during the pandemic . All schools, colleges and universities have started online lessons while teachers not ready yet, they even have not prepared yet, and some of the teachers even do not use laptops and own personal computers before. Pupils and students did not get enough knowledge from school, college and university. And some rural areas is not have Wi-Fi and stable internet. Day by day, teacher prepare and learn online platforms such as : zoom, moodle. Then started operating online lessons face to face on zoom platform and placed the tests that students to solve on moodle.

COVID-19 it is a long story that hasn't been simple and will stay for a history. This disease catastrophe spread so quickly all over the world resulting in almost 20 millions of dead. COVID-19 brought rapid changes to the lives of the that never have such situation occurred before. People had to stay at home because of quarantine . Isolation had a big effect on people's both mental and physical health. Everyone had difficulties to adjust quarantine regulations. Especially, unusual behaviours: depression, anxieties were often seen among adults. ,,STAY AT HOME " we can see this repeatable words everywhere. Surviving from Pandemic become obsession. Regarding of impacts of on physical health, during the Pandemic most of the people turned their lives into passive lifestyle. Because, we are living technology age, they bought everything, range from foods to clothes, at the touch of the button. Besides, during the Pandemic majority of people lost their jobs and they had to live in a difficult condition. But COVID-19 has taught us a valuable lesson. What I mean by this is that, people have understood health is wealth and family is the most important. Nowadays there aren't as many close-knit families as before. Because for some people earning money is their first priority. Before the Pandemic people didn't dedicate their time for family. They were so occupied with their jobs. Quarantine gave the chance of being in the family circle. They realized something that their parents who are getting older want a nice chat. Saying,,Mom Dad only God knows how much you mean to me " is the best gift for them. What about for their children? While they were working day in and day out their children might not felt any financial hardships but spending even a little time with children by either helping with their homework or playing some sort of the game are another things. Here I want to share my own story which may bring tears into your eyes.We lost our loved ones because of the virus. In 2022 December of 18 I lost my grandfather. After only two days my grandmother also passed away. You know what, because both of them infected by the virus. It is the worst days of my life. Even we couldn't be together and hug them in their last days of this world. If you have grandparents please take care of them and show your kindness as much as you can . Many rich people also died .Their money could not help them. It is , therefore, l am saying COVID-19 opened the people's eyes the life is not all about the money. Everything is secondary except family and health.

It was March 12th, 2020, a date many people nowadays refer to as the end of the world as they knew it. I had just finished interviewing some theatre kids about their upcoming four-play for a local literary magazine when my sister messaged that British Columbia was going into lockdown. At this time, my mother's depression was resurfacing again. As the significators of psychosis began to settle in, she decided to admit herself into a hospital before her symptoms became worse. The weekend before quarantine began, my sister and I visited her. She was completely comatose, so we left the hospital in attempts to see her on another date when she was more responsive. It was the last time I saw her. After the government had enacted COVID-19 restrictions on the public, she suffered a blood clot in the lungs and passed away. The pandemic should've been a time for me to grieve and put the pieces of my life back together again. Yet relatives were hounding my sister and me weekly about what we were going to do next. First, they wanted my mother to be buried in our homeland of Tanzania. But customs wouldn't take her in due to the border being closed. Then we decided we were going to hold her at a morgue in Vancouver until she was allowed to be shipped back to Tanzania. But they were backed up three months in advance and were asking for thousands just to house her body. So after much deliberation, everyone (our relatives really) decided to go through with planning my mother's funeral in the middle of a pandemic. Family back in Tanzania and the United States financially pitched in for most of the funeral which made us at their mercy. My sister tried her best to fulfill their wishes, and so did I. But we could only do so much. It was a matter of time before I exploded over the phone, yelling at my mom's side of the family for ridiculing my sister and me once again over our “lousy” pnning skills. From then on, I distanced myself from anything that had to do with the funeral preceding's. Didn't even go to the actual thing. It was all theatrics, for my relative's entertainment. They weren't really mourning my mother, just preoccupying themselves with something other than what was going on in the world. Having demoted myself from the funeral coordinator position, I instead took on the challenge of coming up with the moving preparations. I gathered my mother's things to be sent back home to relatives in Tanzania, and packed up mine in anticipation of moving into my sister's apartment by the end of the month. Once the packing was done, COVID-19 induced lunacy started to settle in. I began to feel like I was festering inside my childhood home. In May, I finally moved in with my sister and her boyfriend. Stores began opening up again, and I was able to snag a job at a local fashion store on Commercial Drive. Only three customers were allowed in at a time, and when they left, I had to go around the store scrubbing down everything they touched with cleaning products. Every day I'd take the sky train home, coughing and wheezing from all the bleach that clogged up my nostrils. I lasted in that job for a month. Not only because the chemicals were getting to my brain, but because the position paid horribly and the owner had a tendency of verbally abusing the young women who worked there. Not even a week after I quit working at Exposure clothing, I was hired at a call center. This job's objective was to convince people to pay the company to haul away their junk. Sounded easy, right? Wrong, I began to realize why so many people hated working a nine to five. I worked remotely, so I was at least suffering in the comfort of my own home. However, I no longer had the privilege of living rent free at my mother's home. Each day I'd imagine I was Will Smith in "The Pursuit of Happyness," and that I would make a big sale one day and everything would suddenly work out in my life. Somehow, living in this bizarre fantasy helped me maintain my sanity. And by the end of June, things in my life returned to normalcy. I'm not going to pretend like the world isn't on fire right now. But, I have a shelter over my head, a secure job, and I am finally healing from having lost my mother. A lot of bad, strange, and downright otherworldly things have happened this year. But I generally stand by the saying: “things have to get really bad before they get better.” So, the only way is up from here on out!

Till a few months ago, one could have had imagined different kinds of life, a happy life, a successful life, a gloomy life et cetera, but almost none of us would have ever thought that we'll get to experience something known as “Quarantine life" first hand. It was the month of March 2020, ten days after WHO declared the Coronavirus outbreak as a global pandemic, the Government of India decided to implement a nationwide lockdown for the first time in the country. Like most of the people ‘lockdown' was a term not very familiar to me and I had no clues that it is going to stay with me for longer time than my ex did. At that time and still while writing this, I'm an aspirant of the prestigious joint engineering entrance exams which are held in India for entrance to the renowned IIT's, my exams were scheduled to be held in April but due to this pandemic it is now stuck in the viscous cycle of postponement. No, no, this is not the time you leave reading this, trust me the boring and informational part is now done and we are moving towards the bittersweet memories of the quarantine. Telling you about JEE exam was important because that's what took me to the educational city of Kota which is unfortunately, infamously, the suicide capital of India as well, but don't go by the popular notion, it is not what it might seem in the first look. It is a happening city with more than 200 thousand students of same age group and all them preparing for undergraduate college admissions. Coming back to where we left, march 2020, I was in Kota alone, away from family in a hostel room and then I came to know that a lockdown has been imposed for 21 days and my exams are postponed. Initially the happiness of postponement of exam overshadowed the burdens caused by lockdown restrictions and my quarantine life began. The first few weeks passed in debates with friends, Is Covid-19 a biological war? Is Covid-19 the end of the world? Will our exams be canceled? Will we get to see the T-20 world cup this winter? And many such random issues used to be the central part of the discussions. These gossips helped me enter the month of April, it was now that I started to realize that this postponement of exam has come at the cost of my freedom. April passed slower than usual with poor quality mess food, with waiting for a smartphone which I had ordered because I had a basic keypad phone which made it even tougher to spend time in quarantine and with a desperate desire to go back to home. The month of May came with a duality of hope and despair. It was the month in which other states of the country decided to lift their students out of Kota, through buses, railways, flights. But my state, Bihar was of the opinion that it's unsafe to bring back students during this pandemic. Amongst such a scenario seeing your friends packing there bags, going back to there home state is a tough site and the cunning smile which they did pass, while going just added to it. The population of Kota now reduced from 200 thousand students to 30 thousand students, all from one state of India – Bihar. This was by far the toughest part of the quarantine time, frustration and anxiety became the central emotion of stranded students like us. What drives you up, also pulls you down sometimes, if it is not ethical in nature. This is what exactly happened with the Govt. Of Bihar, it faced a lot of criticism and protest by students and their parents. The central govt. decided to interfere and help the evacuation of stranded students and finally the govt. Of Bihar promised trains to bring the students back to home. This decision was welcomed by me and my friends with a little celebration and for the first time I became a cook and prepared egg curry for 3 of us in the hostel. After a fortnight or so, it was finally our turn to pack bags up, book a cab to the railway station, say goodbye to Kota and get welcomed by home. Usually the journey from Kota to Patna takes 2 days but it was a special non-stop train so it bought us back home in 14 hours only. The evacuation process became possible only because of the real life heroes, the Government, Kota administration, Coaching staff of Kota, Bihar administration, Railway staff. The applause which students gave to them from train when the train started, still gives me goosebumps in a very positive manner. Well, once I got back home, for first few days, I received lot of attention from them, also my hand carried a stamp which said “home quarantined" for 21 days. Those 21 days were spent reading, writing, playing music and reviving all those hobbies. This was my story of quarantine life, which taught me a lot of things, the most important being that, with every adversity or crisis comes a greater opportunity, it is on us whether to become cynical and give up hope or to adhere to larger call. It is like, if we know how to ride a horse we enjoy when the horse runs but if we don't know, the horse will enjoy at our cost.

There have been other cases of flu and it never got to Africa; we argued! Flu is a white man's disease. In fact, it kills them fast; the average white man has lower immunity. Blacks are tough species of humans, more toughened by the toughness and roughness of the African weather and environment. Surely even our harsh weather in Ghana will dry up the virus and bring the rate of infection to negligible figures! We don't have extremely cold weather. These extreme temperatures are friends of flu viruses and we were sure that we could beat this terrorizing virus. My grandparents hushed our fears! ‘'Our foods are spicy, herbs and medicinal plants are our daily vegetables; we cook and over-cook our stuff unlike the white men of the western world! Worry not; COVID-19 wouldn't dare come to Africa! They said. At last, it did arrive at our shores! At the dawn of the lock-down! Fear became our bedfellow! Mainly because I had no savings to stock up food. Nobody to borrow from; God was my only resort! We could only pray and pray. No food! Our electricity recharge finished the very second day of the lock-down. There was no money to recharge the meter. A call to our church leaders provided no financial comfort. Is there any need to fast and pray? we are fasting already; my little son whispered into my ears late in the earliest nights of the lock-down! That did it! That's when I woke up! I stopped making calls, stopped troubling my neighbors; who were no better than myself, and began to think of what to do to make the most of the lock-down! The idea to make Nose-Masks with our used clothes and materials came up when I saw my eldest daughter wearing one. We all have been listening to the news and the clarion calls for the use of Nose-Masks as a way to reduce infection from the virus. My eldest daughter is very smart with needles and thread. Her Nose-Mask looked so cute as if it was made from a factory. The thread lines were so smooth, I was amazed! I called them all together and urged them to join in making many of the Nose-Masks. We could go from house to house and sell them. I could advertise them in all my Whatsapp networks and platforms. There was no accredited Nose-Masks making company as yet. It could sell! It certainly did! We spent less than 5 USD to procure all shapes and sizes of needles; various colors of threads and we all went to work. For two nights and days, I supervised and taught my two daughters and we produced the finest nose-masks and we used the fairly- new clothes from my wardrobe. We had to use the colorful yet beautiful materials to attract buyers. The traditional materials we planned to sell 1usd each while the less colorful was price-tagged for half of this price. My little boy and I took to the streets with 50 units of the colorful Nose-Masks and 25 units of the less. I still do not know where I got the boldness from! Was it the fear of starvation? Was it the need to survive? Whichever it was, God was with us and we sold them all! We came back and were able to procure electricity, cooking gas, Banku, and ingredients to make a pot of soup that could go for a week. On my return, the girls had made a pile of more Nose-Masks. They excitedly showed me new designs that they came up with in my absence. I was amazed! Phone calls came from friends and church members and we sold out more of the new designs. We started a call-and –deliver mini Agency! The last week of the Lock-Down we had competitors. The whole neighborhood seemed to have started making Nose-Masks and the price per unit went down! We had to stop production. We were already survivors! Necessity is the mother of invention they say. We survived the lock-down. We pray it doesn't come ever again! The Virus has reached almost all the regions of Ghana. Yet, it's not as bad as in the western world. Grand-parents were somehow right! The black man in his African sunny environment can beat the virus! We have the intense sun and highest temperatures of the world; we have herbs; we have been toughened by malaria and many other tropical diseases; We are poor in spirit and the scripture says that the kingdom is ours! We shall beat the virus and many others that dare to come!

I have always loved Tuesdays; it's arguably my best day of the week (sorry, Friday). Some of the best things in my life have happened on a Tuesday. Maybe my love for this particular day of the week was born from the fact that I was born on a Tuesday, a tiny bundle of wrinkled pink flesh that had to fight for every breath she took. I know this because my mother is also a very good storyteller. This particular Tuesday I walked into the hospital where I worked in very high spirits. Because right along with telling stories, I was also passionate about patching up broken bodies and minds. The corona virus pandemic had kept us busy, overworked and under-rested, but considering the world statistics of morbidity and mortality, it was a good day to be alive and healthy! Our changing room was rife with laughter and bad jokes which were being steadily doled out by Claire as we shared a pack of juice and a packet of biscuits while getting ready to take over the shift. Claire was a fountain of jokes; she had the unique talent of drawing humour out of anything. We sometimes asked her why she didn't pursue a career in comedy, her answer was always the same, delivered with the best poker face I'd ever seen; “I have to learn how to resuscitate anyone who might choke on my horrible jokes first!” This delivery was our favourite, and it always had us in stitches. Claire's husband had been injured in a construction accident a couple years ago, so she had to take care of him and their two kids without help while pulling twelve to fifteen hour shifts. Claire never came to work without her brightest smile and her best worst jokes. These people, the men and women I had been privileged to fight this viral war with, they were the best. And as I looked around at them, I recognized the tightness in my chest for what it was; it was gratitude. “Mimi, why do you look like you just ate a sour grape?” that was Vivian, perceptive, sensitive Vivian who made the best snacks and the best impressions of anyone. “Maybe it's your weak attempt at doing Claire's bad jokes; it leaves a funny taste in my mouth.” The responding laughter was immediate and boisterous. Vivian massaged the dark circles beneath her eyes as the laughter died down, her mother had Alzheimer's, and some nights were worse than others. Last night seemed to have been one of those. We could always tell from the tired lines around her eyes and the eye bags. Those bags- she claimed- added character to her laugh lines. The silence that followed was an acknowledgement; it was time to go in. Our little slice of calm was over, and the storm was ripe for placating. The ER was my favourite place to work, everyday brought hundreds of unique, beautiful stories of flawed and vulnerable people, at a pace that was startlingly fast and forced me to keep up. This Tuesday, I was assigned to the ER. With my protective equipments in place, I headed to the triage station. I could feel the adrenaline rush, the sweet staccato beats of my heart and the blood roaring through my ears. This Tuesday would be as good as they came. The morning went by in a blur. A couple of teenagers in a domestic accident, an elderly lady in hypoglycaemic shock, a toddler with severe dehydration and a middle aged man who lived alone and had suffered a heart attack. Every case, every story was a brush stroke of gray in varying shades imprinted on my thoughts. This was why I could explain jaded in a million different stories. By mid morning, my Hazmat suit was getting itchy and constricting. This wasn't unusual in itself; it was the fair price we had to pay for being the first line of defense against potential Corona virus cases. What wasn't usual though, was my vision. It was dancing, and there were hazy edges to it. I floated over to my desk, feeling like a giant cotton ball but I don't remember sitting down. The next time my eyes opened, some colleagues were peering down at me. Wait, why were they peering down? Right, I was in a bed with an intravenous line in my arm. “Lay back down nurse, you don't want to topple over.” It was Dr. Ahmed, the resident ER doctor. He had been standing off to the side making notes and peering down at me. “I feel fine already, let me up.” I reached for the IV line in my arm and was met with a slap and protest from my colleagues. “Don't let me restrain you!” Claire threatened, her brows drawing up in a way I had only ever seen it do when she did the rounds in the ER. My response was a chuckle. There was a dizzying amount of talking going on around me, and instructions being thrown around. But I did get one thing from the head nurse and Dr. Ahmed; I was not getting out of that bed today, and I was taking the whole week off for strict supervision and bed rest. It's a good thing I lived alone so there was no one to worry about my week long absence. I guess this Tuesday was one of my not so popular ones.