Just like the day you learned that the nun was the priest’s side chick, I have learned that there is a top official with a tattoo at State House. Shocking but those relatively close to this politician say that this is why cabinet is allergic to hosting retreats close to a pool. You can just imagine some of them in swim suites and the comrades in short pants.
They say we should stop complaining about politicians because they come from Namibian homes and parents but this one Jehovah needs to see. We wanna fix the shit we are in at the moment; we need to tell all the Wambos that not all of them should be in politics.
We have long entrusted this country with people who would fail an open book Home Ecology test any day and time. We have elevated them to gods when they are unable to even wash their own undies. But we cannot complain.
For a brotchen, braaivleis and t-shirt with a fist we have sold this country for the past year and we will do it again this year, just because.
Our leaders are in a league of their own. The situation on the ground says, from exile, they have been in transit to the Heroes Acre. They were never with us people. We are simply like that side chick who prays he will leave the main chick. This never happens.
Now we have to find the tattoo at State House. It is probably those ones done with a match stick.
We are not well versed on the shape but sources close to the madala say it is something from a gun to money if not a kidney-looking heart. It sits below the chest just before the tummy.
They have overstayed and still cannot unfold their arms to take a page from The Dogg’s book of retirement and rebranding. At least he is singing to his old songs because he realised new is not always nice, especially when mental creativity has become a disability.
Eish, the elders in this country are dribbling us on paraffin speed. This week we just realized that Nguvi is indeed Namibian and I’m starting to think she has a spiritual father in cabinet. If her mother was black, I would have pointed the finger to meme Shaningwa but she too sometimes shows the competence of a Nguvi pupil.
The country is going so backwards that even the Brave Warriors are worried. Even Barry would do better in that house. It is an open secret that his tummy cannot become any bigger so even if he steals from the poor, the rest of us will benefit. We need a politician who steals but knows how to share with us all.
God we prayed for an educated leader to take this country out of the kak but it seems all of them were born on the other side of the intelligence Red Line. Even a water meter reader of the City of Windhoek can do better.
But not all faith is gone. I have hope in my third testicle that stubbornness is not a tribal thing but a result of insecurity. I will not wait for the campaigns to start so we are promised oil taps when they were unable to finish passing one Sudoku level for the past five years.
I love my president and I would love to give him the following advice, coming from a child with no manners.
First, fire Uutoni and everything Nujoma in government. Give them back the kickbacks and tell them we can no longer take from what we already don’t have. These fellas have embarrassed the president for far too long.
Secondly, say sorry to Nahas and Jerry for the last congress results. It is African that we don’t embarrass our elders especially those you meet first after Oshivelo. The Omakange road to the north has potholes so please make peace with the madalas.
Remove Katrina and tell her to make smoke the peace pipe with Swartbooi. He is the only Southerner who loves her.
Fire all the advisors and use their salaries to build a school. You can name it after one of the PLAN Combatants who have become only good for the obituary pages in newspapers. Each one’s current monthly salary can build a house for someone in a shack and their annual salary put together can build a VTC in the South.
The young people you have appointed on the basis on how loud they made noise must be recalled. A tortoise can finish a 20 meter race faster than Nekundi, Shanghala, Iithete, Kapere and Nekongo all put together can make a sentence that does not have the word ‘Harambee’.
We need Sexy Jimmy at State House to be advisor of the President on Press. Ever since the other guy left, this one is even unable to reply to a multiple choice question paper. He is more missing than customer service from a Checkers cashier on a Monday after pay weekend who just looks at us like we invented the barcode.
But we don’t have brave people in this country. The ones who are supposed to be taking the lead are into popularity contests and the rest are doing fokol but writing opinion pieces to newspapers.
The few brave ones in Swapo are simply like a Golf VII driving behind a lorry with heavy oncoming traffic. Their potential will never be realized.
Lastly, everyone who has been part of the government since the 90s must see the door. Their grand-children need to be told liberation stories, so please tell them to resign and give their families some love. It is only healthy.
Some of these people need to go and explain the tattoo. If you know, you know.