Cyril Ramaphosa: “8pm tonight I’m fucking up Christmas.” A myriad memes flooded timelines in the build-up to President Cyril Ramaphosa’s family meeting with the nation at 8pm on Monday. In anticipation, there was a rush on bottle stores. Interprovincial travellers were on tenterhooks in case their end-of-year family plans were scuppered. I bet travellers were checking the small print of their holiday bookings and insurance policies. In our household, we wondered if our Christmas family lunch plans may be altered. Already, we had planned to eat outside – no matter the exposure to the Cape southeaster, the sun’s harsh UV rays or the rain. The turkey was to be cooked on the Weber under the milkwood trees. Our numbers were limited to 13 and all Covid-19 protocols would be observed. Short of designing an elaborate hug glove, the only physical contact allowed would be the elbow bump. In terms of special requests, my 83-year-old, very robust, but Covid-19-fearfully sensible father had requested that he and his partner be seated at their own separate table, just in case. Having barely seen him since March, it was a coup that he had agreed to come in the first place.