In the next few weeks you’ll be hearing a lot about “recovery” and things “getting back to normal”. 

It’s no wonder people are craving some semblance of their past life – for the vast majority of us, this lockdown is incredibly difficult. But though I too long to see my friends or to sit in a cafe with my book, I can’t stand the idea of going back to where we were. As a nurse, and as someone whose community has been disproportionately affected by this pandemic, such a proposition is intolerable. 

Let’s start with my job. You’ve probably heard more from nurses in the last few months than ever before as journalists have flocked to us, asking for our perspective on the pandemic, and our views on the government’s abysmal failure to protect us with the right gear. And there’s no doubt about it – it’s been a dire time for nurses. It’s hard to put into words what it felt like to go into work as the virus really began to take hold – and doing so knowing that nurses across the country weren’t getting the safety kit we needed. But for all of the rightful discussion about the scarcity of personal protective equipment, there’s been very little said about something else we’re being denied: decent pay. 

We might be hailed as heroes, but we’re not paid like them. Average annual earnings among registered nurses grew by just 8.1% between 2010 and 2018, compared to cumulative RPI inflation of 28.3%.

Behind those numbers, and in the long shadow of a programme of austerity, is the stark reality of nurses turning to foodbanks to feed their families – and community groups leaving parcels of food on nurses doors during this crisis to ensure they don’t go hungry. There have been minor adjustments to nurses pay in the last few years from the so-called ‘new deal’, but despite some small improvements for some, it still meant a real terms pay cut for many over the last decade.

Nurses from a BAME background have suffered the worst, in part because despite making up 20% of the workforce we only make up 7% of senior management. The last few weeks have seen injury added to this wage insult – with a shocking 70% of the nurses who have died from Covid-19 being from a BAME background. It’s no exaggeration to say that nursing, especially for black, Asian and ethnic minorities has become a job of two extremes: extreme low pay and extreme risk to life and limb. For me this isn’t just just some abstract risk – it’s a real fear that i’ll be the next BAME person to get sick or even lose their life, and all while knowing that i’m doing this without what most people would consider to be a fair wage for my work.

It doesn’t have to be like this. In recent years our NHS has been propped up on the shaky foundations of low pay and privatisation, but that can be stopped. The Government could announce a 10% pay rise for nurses now to make up some of the money we’ve lost in recent years, giving us money in our pockets and not just an enamel badge to recognise our contribution. The public agree with us on this, with 77% backing a 10% pay rise for nurses in new polling out today.

Moving forwards we need a real new deal for nurses that recognises our work isn’t just something to be clapped during a crisis, but is actually the most pressing form of low-carbon job we need. It might sound abstract, but if our ageing society is to both look after itself and the planet we live on, then more of us need to be doing work which uses few resources and provides care for our communities. Nursing fits that bill perfectly. 

And while a real new deal for all nurses is desperately needed, we also need to get real about the fact that not all nurses are treated equally. That’s why I want to see an inquiry into the effects of this virus on BAME healthcare staff and serious action taken to redress the stark racial inequality we see both in nursing and society as a whole. 

I love being a nurse, and I wouldn’t swap my job for any other, but it just can’t go on like this after the pandemic. We cannot have nurses on the breadline, and I shouldn’t be put at more risk because of the colour of my skin. The government has many important decisions to make in the coming weeks – I just hope that they don’t let this time go by without taking that action needed to show that the clapping for the NHS, and the Prime Minister’s tribute to nurses like me, aren’t just the empty gestures they feel like right now. 

Saharla Musa is an NHS nurse working in central London

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