Apparently Independence celebrations went to Rundu this year. Independence is somewhat synonymous to an old ex’s promises and crocodile tears as he narrates why he never stopped loving you. You all know what that ex says when he wants you back, especially when he realized that you dumped him without giving him ….
Throughout our lives, we all have that ex you think of when you want to be kind. We all have that one place we go to, not because we care, but just because we know they will appreciate our presence.
So if I come to think of what you all were doing in Rundu on that Tuesday neh, I’m convinced to understand that our government is just another run-away father, ex and that idiot you dated in the absence of the best, but you still care though.
Marra while you guys were being promised withdrawals and lifetime panty liners, some of us were busy screwing Windhoek from Statehouse. Stocky Kanime and all his cadet tsotsi officers made sure that our shebeens were closed (even Uukwamatsi was closed). Marra what you did’nt know is that the shebeen at Statehouse was open with an open tab left by the Chester-in chief and Prophet in Politics for his concubines.
Where were you when we were chilling with the people paid to think for the president aka advisors? You know it’s the truth because not even NBC’s second-hand blurry drone could capture them at the recently painted stadium. While all of you were dancing to Ndilimani’s recycled songs about guns and the hardships (How old is Etondo and all those jelly dancers to know all these things?), the church girl in Statehouse was singing Winky D’s ‘Disappear.’ Yes, it was on repeat as typical with what the house is doing to our resources. The left over is then pushed to buy the poor Kavango brotchens with viennas and Vita juice. They don’t even give you sunscreen but we at Statehouse got it free even when we were all indoors.
The shirumbus were there too, not in Rundu. We all know they no longer have time for the viva viva politics because they are under-represented anyways. Growing up, my dream was always to be a white man and be called baas. While you toy-toying and being grilled by the sun in the name of Independence, they are busy thinking of how to make more money for their unborn children. They give zero f*ck about politics but yet they benefit more than the cheerleaders. Unlike the masses that think celebrating the success of others for the rest of their lives is the way to get in the good books, whites are best at being selfish about building themselves and only them. I’m yet to see a picture of the white person in Rundu. And I’m not referring to those poor journalists from Afrikaans and German newspapers who were there just to balance the situation. I hear while most of you were headed to the north, the white brothers took the day off to Von Bach for some water activities.
But these guys really take us for a fool. I wanted to see the relatives of those guys who stood in the tents so they burn like all of us or are the celebrations just for the cheer leaders huka?
So we are left to conclude that it was only the politicians and the Chinese who attended the celebrations. Of course the Chinese are tired of being framed as poachers of wild animals so they have turned the activity to our own. Because of independence, we now have Chinese Kwanyamas for Helao Nafidi with names like Kambala Chaoxiang and Amupanda Chunhua. Soon they will stand for elections in local authorities.
If there is a winner on the day, it’s was the people of Rundu. I was there and I witnessed how everyone got it their way. It was Harambee in all and any way. If your husband left you in Windhoek to go celebrate independence, just know that it was independence from you. Rundu chicks and comrades read the Harambee memo and got the orientation that nobody should in fact be left out. They too have a beach so you can imagine what can happen because only they know the safe spots. You know the population of that region is high and the basics of Biology tells us that only unprotected sex makes it rain babies.
My dream is to have a coloured president. Just imagine how fun that would be. We will have a president who is loyal and he too knows that once he says ‘I Do,’ there is no going back to the ex. Imagine how the house will be clean and even dogs will be washed and allowed to sleep on the couch. For the first time everyone at the party will eat. We will have less churches and more bank tellers. With a coloured president, you know no bars will be closed and there is a Sunday plate for every Sunday session. We will have tarred roads to every village because the dropped Honda needs to visit Kaisosi too. But maybe we will also need to keep away the breathalysers because our brothers are born with the bottle magnets.
But that’s for another day. Since we have so many off days to come like Cassinga Day, that day of Jesus, Heroes Day and that other day when Jesus climbs to sit on his father’s right hand. We await for those days and please dont ignore your ex. You owe them what you denied them before you dumped them.
I hate to love you.