oris Johnson tells Britain that our test-and-tracing system will be “world-beating”. Here’s what I’ve witnessed from the inside. In March, I was furloughed by my employer. The financial impact was huge, and I decided to look for some temporary work to help with the bills. I saw an online ad for a temporary “customer service adviser”, which said: “You must have your own computer and high-speed internet to download our software and communicate with our customers … Don’t let lockdown stop you getting your dream job.” I have some experience in customer service, so I applied, and was then telephoned by someone who asked me some basic questions about customer service. He said my answers were great, and proceeded to tell me the role was working on the government’s new track-and-trace programme. They would like to offer me a role, and I could start training the following Sunday. On my first day, I logged in and was put into an online chatroom with my new colleagues. There were about 100 of us, and it was soon pretty clear that people were having problems accessing the system correctly. Our trainer dipped in now and then, saying the training would start in 10 mins – 10 mins later, they would repeat the message. Nearly two hours later the training began, but people were still having problems – at which point they were told there was nothing more they could do. The training was very basic. We saw some slides about our role – the public health website we will use, and a script for what we had to say to people. We were told: do not go off-script, and if there was anything we could not answer, we should ask our supervisor. The training was wrapped up early, and we were asked if we felt prepared. There was a chorus of no from many people. Some said yes, but I didn’t see how anyone could be prepared for something they’d only found out about a couple of hours ago, plus we hadn’t even accessed the specific programmes. I checked my schedule and saw that I was due to start the next day at 9am. Panic set in. The trainer told us there was a further seven and a half hours of self-led training that we had to complete before “going live”. This seemed a little unfair, if not impossible to achieve by the next morning. We were reassured that we could probably get through the training in two to three hours – but we would be paid for all seven and a half. The trainer declared the training over and was immediately inundated with more questions from those anxious about what to do and when. The chatroom was then closed by the trainer, and we were left on our own. The self-led courses were very basic – with some generic dos and don’ts about customer data, security and so on. I completed it all in less than one and a half hours, with a score of 95%+. The next morning I was worried, and feeling very unprepared. I felt the job was an important thing to do. But it was essential to get this right, and I didn’t really understand the role and how to use the systems. I logged in and saw a message saying I would be invited to a chatroom and to please wait. I waited seven and a half hours (my entire shift). I called the HR helpline after about one hour and was told to relax – everyone is waiting. The next day I was scheduled to work again. This time, I was invited to a chatroom. I recognised many of the names in the group from my training, so knew the other people were also new. Many people were writing, “Did anyone do anything yesterday?” “Do we just wait?” “What are we waiting for?” The questions quickly turned to complaint, and we were left unsupervised for hours. A message then appeared asking us to complete our online training – which was met with a chorus of “I did the training”. The day passed as we waited, re-attempted training, and wrote messages to supervisors and got no response. Wednesday came (day four) and we got a message assuring us that we were getting paid – and to please wait. The comments came in “LOL getting paid by the government for this”, and “they’ll be clapping for us on Thursday”. It went downhill from there, and people started writing derogatory remarks. Others suggested we use the company phone system to practise calling each other on our computers. Again, supervisors didn’t interject or offer any guidance. One person set up a Facebook group (for the people in our chat) and called it Panic Room. That night I saw someone from the track-and-trace programme had spoken to the BBC, and noted that their group had spent the day watching Netflix or playing games online. Having spent days feeling frustrated, I started to feel dejected too. Two days later I logged in for my weekend shift and discovered nothing had changed – and that I had clocked up 40 hours of key worker pay for doing absolutely nothing. After the Dominic Cummings story broke I started hearing more media stories about the track-and-trace programme. Health secretary Matt Hancock claimed that “highly trained track-and-trace staff” were in place. I still had not seen the government system we were supposed to use. Over the next few days I learned more about my job from watching the news than I did from those who were supposed to supervise me. I still did not feel qualified to do it. Then it was announced by Hancock that we were going live the next day. On my chat there was a message from a supervisor asking the more experienced members of our chat to help those who needed help. The blind leading the blind! How were people who started the same day as me, and who had the same short and basic training as I had, supposed to help me do my job? On Thursday, according to the government, the system launched. But for me, nothing changed. It was a day of waiting, with no system access. Yet on TV at the daily briefing, Boris Johnson told the nation all was well. To this day I remain a “key worker”, paid £10 an hour to sit in a chatroom – alone, lost, without support or help. Despite what the government is saying, it seems the relentless problem “with the system” is another pandemic without a cure. Motivated as I am to help out during this difficult time – and after two weeks of doing “pretend” work on the track-and-trace programme – I have decided to quit and try to find a real way to help people. If Boris Johnson or Matt Hancock are reading this, I’d ask them to please go into the chatrooms you created and read what people are saying. You will see a lot of anger and confusion from a lot of people. And none of them have any faith that we’re properly set up to fight any increase in infection rate from this pandemic.