'It's hard to believe it's been a year': N.W.T. leaders reflect on anniversary of COVID-19 pandemic
'There's a light at the end of the tunnel,' Sahtu leader says
It's been a year since the World Health Organization deemed COVID-19 a worldwide pandemic.
Dr. Kami Kandola, the N.W.T.'s chief public health officer, said in a news conference on that day the territory had been preparing for a pandemic "for weeks."
In the days and weeks that followed, the territory released its pandemic response plan, implementing some of the restrictions that are still with us today.
Community leaders across the N.W.T. took it upon themselves to keep residents informed, and to implement the plans in their own ways. They all shared one goal— keeping everyone safe, for as long as this pandemic would last.
CBC asked some of the territory's community leaders in different regions to reflect on this milestone moment in the pandemic.
'I didn't really know how to handle a virus'
April Martel's phone started ringing off the hook on the first day the pandemic was declared — and it hasn't stopped ringing ever since.
Early on, the elders instructed Martel, the chief of K'atl'odeeche First Nation, to close down the reserve, only letting members come and go. By March 20, the First Nation declared a state of emergency and put up a checkpoint on the winter road connecting the reserve to Hay River: one of the first in the territory to do so.
"I had just been elected, I was new right, so I didn't really know what was happening," Martel told CBC. "I didn't really know how to handle a virus."
In some ways, it was a tough transition to the new normal, Martel said. Slow internet speeds on the reserve made video conference meetings with more than 20 people a challenge.
We have to take care of ourselves during this time, so we can still plan for our community. It's a really weird balance.- April Martel, chief of K'atl'odeeche First Nation
The First Nation also lost four people in the last year — not connected to COVID-19 — most of them elders. Martel said the limits on funeral gatherings means people haven't been able to properly say goodbye to their loved ones.
"When everything's settled and we're safe, we're going to have huge ceremonies," Martel said. "We need to have something big … to celebrate those lives."
Martel said she feels like she's getting busier as the pandemic goes on. She has to balance normal tasks for the First Nation, like audit season, while responding to calls about people who are not following self-isolation rules.
Still, Martel is trying to find time to take care of herself everyday by getting fresh air. Once a week, she'll head to the Dene Wellness Centre to work out with other women on the reserve.
"We have to take care of ourselves during this time … so we can still plan for our community," Martel said. "It's a really weird balance."
Despite the obstacles, the First Nation saw some success in the last year: the passing of their new land code, an online election for a few new councillors and the return of a mostly-virtual K'amba Carnival in the spring.
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However, Martel said it's too early to think the pandemic is over.
"We're not safe yet," Martel said. "We have to be prepared … if there's a variant, and that's just as scary."
'It just didn't seem like it would reach the North'
"It's hard to believe it's been a year," Natasha Kulikowski, the mayor of Inuvik, said when asked to reflect on the start of the pandemic.
When Kulikowski started hearing about COVID-19's spread through China in late January, she said she wasn't expecting the virus to come to her town.
"It just didn't seem like it would reach the North, because it was such a big city thing," Kulikowski said. "But then, in those early days, it was progressing so fast, all of a sudden it was like 'oh what if it does come here.'"
The pandemic "got real" for Kulikowski when the territory decided to impose its mandatory 14-day self isolation policy mid-March — a policy that's still in place today.
"It changed immediately for us, because we were involved with how we were going to accommodate people who were coming back from any travel," she said.
The toughest part, she says, was cancelling regional events like the Muskrat Jamboree that bring people together from across the region.
"We kept coming back to the messaging that this is for everyone's safety, and that seemed to be a theme that people could really hold on to — because it's literally about keeping people alive," she said.
Still, Kulikowski commends people in the Beaufort-Delta for adapting their lifestyles so quickly to the new normal.
She's had to make some changes too. Kulikowski didn't leave the territory last summer to visit her parents in Edmonton, opting instead for a staycation in Yellowknife, Hay River and Fort Smith.
For her, the travel restrictions meant everyone who's used to travelling discovered more creative ways of finding joy at home.
"One of the biggest lessons I've learned is that people are resilient," she said.
'There's a light at the end of the tunnel'
Charles McNeely, Chair of the Sahtu Secretariat, said the first thing that came to mind at the beginning of the pandemic was how he, and other leaders across the Sahtu, were going to keep their people safe.
"In the start it was kinda scary," he said. "When it first came out, people were really wondering how it was going to spread."
In some communities, like Fort Good Hope, McNeely said local radio stations started to announce public health information in the local language and in English.
That continues to be a way to bring information to the elders, McNeely said, who advise local councils on the best actions to take throughout the pandemic.
"The elders and the youth really came to mind from the get-go," he said. "They reminded us that we have to take care of our people."
The next step was to limit the number of flights coming in from Yellowknife.
In the pre-pandemic age, North-Wright air offered daily flights to and from the N.W.T. capital, but the company quickly shuttered down to a weekly service, dedicated for emergencies only, to keep everyone safe. (Flights are now offered up to four times a week between Yellowknife and some Sahtu communities).
During the winter, local land corporations delivered wood and fuel to the elders to keep their homes warm, as everyone stayed indoors. Communities started sharing fish between each other, to make sure everyone had enough to eat.
McNeely said watching people in the Sahtu work together has taught him how to really care about other people.
"You put yourself in [people's] shoes," McNeely said. "Your thoughts … start wondering how they're doing."
Now, McNeely said it's as if things in the Sahtu are slowly getting back to normal, even though people are still taking precautions.
Many students are out on the land for March break, learning how to set fishnets and how to hunt moose with the elders. Friends and family gather more frequently outside, as the weather starts to warm up. People are travelling up and down to Yellowknife to get their cars serviced and to bulk up on groceries before the winter roads close down.
McNeely said the priority going forward for leadership is to make sure that everyone gets vaccinated, so they can get back to a pre-pandemic normal.
"Now that we're a year into it, there is a light at the end of the tunnel," McNeely said. "That's the way we see it now."