WE JOINED A SMALL queue at the vaccination centre, or “hub” as it calls itself, early one sunny but cool morning. All of us were waiting to receive our covid 19 booster vaccine, six months having elapsed since receiving the second of our first two ‘jabs’. Eventually, we were invited into the local hospital, in which the hub is located.
I was directed to a cubicle where a lady, a volunteer vaccinator, was seated. After having been asked some preliminary medical questions and given some advice about possible aftereffects of the vaccine, she said to me, having already noted my name:
“Are you South African?”
“My parents were,” I replied.
“I know a Craig Yamey,” she said.
“He is a relative of mine.”
Then, she said:
“I knew an old gentleman, a Mr Yamey married to a Greek lady.”
“He was my father,” I replied, adding: “How do you know him”
It turned out that the lady’s mother lives next door to where my father lived for the last 27 years of his long life.
Having established that and just before giving me the injection, quite painlessly I should add, she said:
“In that case, I must take very special care of you.”
The world can seem remarkably small, don’t you think?