Dridi and her sister accompanied their weak 92-year-old Algerian-born mother to a vaccination center for the first of two pictures to protect against COVID-19 days after it opened last week to more people older than 75.
While red tape, licensing requirements and procurement issues have delayed French vaccination across the country, the Seine-Saint-Denis region faces particular challenges in keeping the virus at bay, and get vaccinated when the opportunity arises.
It is the poorest region on the French mainland and had the largest increase in mortality in the country last spring, largely due to COVID-19. Up to 75 percent of the population are immigrants or have immigrant roots, and the residents speak about 130 different languages. Health care is below par, with two to three times fewer hospital beds than other departments and a higher rate of medical conditions. Many are essential workers in supermarkets, public hygiene and health care.
The coronavirus was initially widely seen as the true balance, suffering rich and poor. But studies have since shown that some people are more vulnerable than others, especially the elderly, those with other long-term illnesses and the poor, often living on the margins of mainstream society, such as non-French immigrants.
Dridi, 56, who has been a nurse for more than three decades, is relieved that the virus does not currently have a “major evolution” in her town. But she does not forget what happened when the pandemic first struck.
“We had whole families with COVID,” she said. Many generations have many living together in small apartments, something that experts say is a common growth factor in the region.
Despite these grim memories, local officials are embarking on specific challenges to get word out about vaccinations to a population where few speak French, who do not have access to regular medical care. and, as in much of France, trusting in the safety of the vaccine.
Next month, a bus will travel through the area, mainly visiting street markets, to provide vaccination information. In addition, around 40 multi-lingual “vaccine ambassadors” are to be trained to reach out, starting in March, about vaccines as well as “false news” around them.
The case of Youssef Zaoui, 32, is an Algerian living in Saint-Denis.
“I’ve heard that the vaccine is more dangerous than the virus,” said Zaoui, sitting in the shade of the basilica. His proof that he doesn’t have to worry about the virus: the butcher down the road and the man selling cigarettes nearby. They were there at the beginning of March “and they are still here. … Me, I’m still here, ”he said.
Is there a chance that the vaccine could reverse the inequality reflected in the area ‘s death statistics?
“Before the vaccine can be truly fair, everyone needs to be vaccinated,” said Peter Simon, who co-authored a study last June into a study into the vulnerability of minority languages. in Seine-Saint-Denis to COVID-19. But he said the challenges for marginalized communities in accessing health care are “so these inequalities will be reproduced for the vaccine.”
While the French health care system intends to provide affordable medical treatment to all, the bureaucratic demands and co-payments often intimidate new immigrants or poor people. Government health management will not always reach those outside the system.
As a nurse at a town health center, Dridi sees in the face of poverty a transition to vulnerability to the coronavirus.
“I give a shot, a bullet, I put on a bandage … and some people say, ‘I live in a car, I’m on the street,'” she said.
That tragedy was not seen at the vaccination center where Dridi’s mother was shot – among 17 that opened across the area last week and where the more fortunate people of Saint-Denis, who are living in private homes, seen on a recent tour. Some made their way into the center on cans or arm-held. One couple looked up on a scooter. They were all willing to be vaccinated.
They were among the lucky ones. Jobs have been cut back after reduced doses of Pfizer-BioNTech vaccine, as elsewhere in France and Europe.
“I’m lucky to have the vaccine today,” said one woman, who broke down in tears. She was infected with COVID-19 at the time of treatment at a private clinic in April and lost her mother in October to the virus after being admitted to a hospital where she was treated after a fall.
The woman, who refused to give her name, asked Dridi and her sister to take care of the mother because “she is your treasure. ”
For Dridi, seeing people die of COVID-19 can be a game changer.
“Some people say no (to get vaccinated) because they have nothing to do with death,” said Dridi. But death, “that’s what will answer you.”