Excuse me, someone or a group of them rigged our independence because this is not what the populace wants at all. ‘At least’ not many of us are on the receiving end on anything. We are one nation that still wears caps backwards, with guys who still wear earrings, and kids of politicians who parade with gate remotes around their necks to show off how their parents decide just by the finger when and which gate we can enter.
Talk about the forgotten people. This is Namibia. And in this kamastag economic turbulences, no one is left out, at least from the crumbs, is just pure legalized k*k. You and I are like the guys on that Whatsapp group where you only count as a participant, but the admin and everyone has forgotten that you are there.
Is it only me or does everything smell Chinese and Wambo. The rest are the few who think they are educated and are jumping the chopping queue. It is times like this when I’ve started making friends with white people because I’ve made peace with the fact that we need some colour in this darkness. Maybe it is right to say that it will not take the same people who brought us into this shit to take us out again. Rent a whitey.
They just don’t care. One woke up last week telling this toothpick society that we have failed to industrialize for 28 years. This is the same person who started appreciating the WiFi a month ago when he was photographed browsing through a dating sight. We need a forensic investigation into the history pages of those tabs. But what do we really expect from this guy and the rest of his colleagues who cannot question each other even when they see the wrong?
Growing up as a child, I always wanted to be white, because those racist niggas are just smart. I only know of three white street kids but the rest are sorted. Unlike blacks, they don’t meet on social media and think they have balls just because they have over 5000 followers. Namibian white is unity. Blacks cannot even boycott Shoprite yet they want to be directors. Direct what and who?
Guy, our black leaders don’t love us, including the President. I heard he was addressing some students at a university in some foreign country. It is not wrong to engage students.
But at home, he speaks to us through the media. You only see him at UNAM during graduation or during a change of Chancellors.
Harambee se m**r. This thing was never designed to include us so we all eat. In fact, I think it’s a solo comedy show. The only difference is that the comedian this time around is as boring as a backdrop picture of prosperity and they expect us to laugh – ‘because we died for this country and we are still here.’
Petrol prices go up and we are all here shouting to leaders who do not know the price of fuel since 1990. Yes, that’s how long some of them have been around. How do you expect someone who does not speak your language to respond to your cries when they are sorted for life?
Rumor has it that there are special rooms built with bricks, at the Heroes’ Acre, reserved for FOUR presidential bodies.
Unlike your body that will be forgotten at Oponganda, the comrades’ bodies will be kept fresh forever. The rooms are equipped with everything the living can only dream of. Then you want to tell me that these guys love us. I don’t know why there is only space for exactly four though.
Yes, tell me it is worse in Zimbabwe and other African countries but we are not them and we will not belittle our problems just because theirs are bigger. We will complain because that’s all we do best anyways.
It is so bad because we have no alternative anyways. The other political parties are as useless as the Swapo Party School that is yet to enroll anything. Just like the ordinary frustrated majority, all they do is finger the problems. The frustrated ones are worse because all a sudden they see the problem now from the outside.
You cannot follow political prostitutes guys. And we cannot follow them because instead of fighting intellectually, they are busy insulting Tate Sam who does not have time for anything but Olufuko. You also cannot follow AR because only one of them is eating and the rest are still finding an image of themselves. We need living inspiration.
But for now at least they are the only kids with balls. If only we could have like 50 other Jobs, then we can bring change.
So while we still have some sort of peace left, let’s sit down and sign a non-agreement agreement to stop f*cking each other. Peace for these guys means – ‘as long as their interests are not touched.’
I propose that we sell the country and start all over again. China is the willing buyer and we are obviously the willing seller. Each gets their share, and we start all over again.
MFK is a satirical column, written by a nameless individual. His views are not endorsed by the editorial policy of the publishers.