All along I thought the easiest way to k*k in life was by getting married. Today I learned that life in Windhoek is even worse than having a woman in your life. Here in the ‘corner,’ you are bound to be on the receiving end of everything itchy.
To start with, regardless of whatever road you use to enter Windhoek, there is no welcome sign so ‘enter at own risk’ by all means. All you get is a ‘procedure, procedure, procedure priis’ from the police officer at the roadblocks.
The ‘enter at own risk’ zone has stolen two things from the rural boys and girls. Identity! The ones-upon-a-time grandma’s girl starts living life on paraffin speed doing all she could have done in 17 years in one week. All of a sudden she is a vegetarian and walks with a bottle of water because she is watching her figure. All of a sudden she needs specs and she no time for the village boys she came with from the north. I mean, one is used to rural names such as Peturus, Madala, Urikhob and Shilimela. So how do you expect her to not open her legs to Sean, Jerome and Mathias who all have dropped (borrowed) City Golfs.
Windhoek has stolen the virginity of many. Those with an upside-down view of life have joined the shiveva churches for redemption and they have been introduced to the virginity soup and now enjoy Monis Granada at almost every sermon. The others have found their behind useful since the thirst from the front can be as serious as the struggle of an IUM student. Kashipu
Your once-upon-a-time Dux learner from St Boniface has now become a cheerleader at Chopsi’s and works part time at the nearby Kalahari (now Avani). Just imagine, but it’s even harder to imagine here. To bring in even more question marks, we have 17-year old household owners. I really am not fond of sugar-coating the nude reality and if I was as acutely aware as some of you may be, then I too would not want my under-aged offspring to read this. But since Windhoek children are making children now (competing with Rundu), and believe themselves to be more sexually adept and less ignorant than the grown-ups who’ve been in the sexual trenches for millennia, I will tell it like it is. Is Windhoek hierso!
Please do not be vexed when you realise that I am writing about your current papisa and his dedicated team of side chicks you deliberately share him with. Everything is united in Windhoek. Unlike in other welcoming stingy places, here, we share. We share everything and everyone. You see, Windhoek has made it ok, and I mean OKAY, for people to settle for any position one can imagine on their fingers as long as they get the tip.
Do not even talk about age because it is kama just a number. Kapunda and pimpled-ass men find it fit to play skululu with the first years students. After all, it is a mutual practice from both ends as young girls in Windhoek like matured blessers and the kapundas are habitual likers of fresh, young and domesticated delectables with have no stretch marks or dangling breast. These Olufuko escapees will shock you for real. They have zero intentions for hard-work as they have found their private parts (now public) useful for making quick money. It is only in Windhoek where you will find a 20-year old girl, who owns a laptop, a fully paid flat, does not struggle with SuperAweh, has lunch at Bolster and has mastered the names of all latest cars. It’s only in Windhoek where the life of a second year student is better than that of a Constable and a HIV Management graduate from IUM.
I can only imagine what the mothers are going through after they have sent off their children to Windhoek to go study. Sometimes I selfishly feel very safe because I have no sisters in Windhoek just because of the fast transition of lifestyle here. People come to Windhoek with the Siyaya busses and the middle-class ones are sometimes lucky to be put on the Swapo Contract Haulage busses. However, when it is time to go back to their dusty towns, you see them on Facebook asking around for private hike. Kamma the busses are too slow and have boring rural music. Since when?
We all know the inflation in this country and nothing is free in Windhoek. We all know that there are rest trees on the way and what they are used for. I’m just saying. Private transport indeed.
So let me warn all you people who keep having Windhoek dreams. This is not what you really need. If its schooling, go study agriculture in Divundu or Nursing in Keetmanshoop. Stay in Walvis Bay because the climate in Windhoek can be very hot and often has a tendency of making people wet and forget about their clothes. Do not be fooled by the buildings, it’s a jungle out here. So stay in your towns and villages and wait for the Harambee promises because Windhoek will leave you behind.
Otherwise, either dance to the tunes of paying for other people’s thirst or be like me. Masturbate before hitting the club and chances are that you will not have to buy drinks for woman who are gonna be snoep you at the end of the night. If you cannot do the above, go back to the village, you were never welcomed in the first place…
Facebook:The Undisciplined Child-MfK
Previous PostThe Grass is Not Always Greener On the Other Side Next PostAnchored in the roots of our heroes