But Bolsonaro, who once dismissed Covid-19 as a "little flu," has urged businesses to reopen, despite many governors stressing social isolation measures to slow the spread.

In the huge intensive care unit (ICU) of Emilio Ribas Infectious Disease Institute in São Paulo, anger swirls among doctors when asked about their President's comments.

"Yes," he says, twice.

The reasons why are clear inside the overwhelming silence of the ICU.

This ICU is full, and still the peak in São Paulo is probably two weeks away.

Through the glass, gowned staff jostle tightly together and circle the patient's head; to replace tubes; to shift posture; to switch their position and relieve each other from the exhausting task.

Today, they stand together at the glass of another isolation room, inside which is a doctor on their team, intubated.

The disease that has filled their hospital seems to be moving in on them.

Emilio Ribas hospital is full of bad tidings -- with no more bed space before the peak hits, and staff already dying from the virus -- but is the best-equipped the city of São Paulo has.

Wealth not health preoccupies Bolsonaro, who has recently started calling the fight against the virus a "war." But on May 14, he said: "We have to be brave to face this virus.

But the priority here has long been clear: survival.

Renata Alves laughs, shakes her head, and says "it's irrelevant," when asked about Bolsonaro's opinion the virus is just a "cold." Her business is serious, and hourly.

Around her, the urgent tasks of staying alive hum.

Its narrow dense streets and alleyways explain why the disease here is so rampant.

Many cases go undetected.

"Mostly the test is done when the person is already in an advanced stage of the disease," she says, as she heads into the home of Sabrina, an asthmatic isolating with her three children in three tiny rooms.

The 53-year-old says she thinks she got the virus from going to the market here, even though she wore a mask and gloves.

If it's for the good of society, we have to do this."

Social responsibility in these dangerous and poor streets has also led to an isolation center being made nearby from a deserted school.

In the hills above São Paulo, the Vila Formosa graveyard brims with mourning, and yawns in expectation -- lined with endless empty and fresh graves.