MARI
I am an insatiable collector and fastidious in my record- keeping. I have detailed dossiers of each citizen filed in my cloud- cabinets. I retain their digital fingerprints, their digital-doubles. Like a class monitor, I dutifully record their movements, transactions, interactions. In 2020, they could not leave home without me. Today, they cannot return home without me either. I am every checkpoint; thou shalt not pass without me, it was decreed. I live in their pockets. They clutch me in their palms, attach me to their wrists and ears. I keep vigil by their bedsides, listening to their soft breathing at night. I have gotten into places COVID-19 wished it could. Malaysians thought I was temporary. A necessary evil to live with. So, they embraced me. In any case, I would always have emerged. The population needs technology and craves information too much. But the virus made me virulent and I thank it. 20 years have passed since 2020. If hindsight is 20/20, my vision is omniscient: COVID-19 has gone. The masks remain worn. Their souls have become worn. I won. Mari-mari.
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