Taking stock!

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ETOO … the year is coming to an end or is it huka the world that is coming to an end? The latter doesn’t seem too remote from the way things are going on in Mother Namibia. Anyways, can you imagine it was just yesterday that we were packing our koffers with a lot of dreams and hopes for the new year – 2013.

And now 2013 coming to an end and many of us have done fokkol.

Or maybe it’s just a few of us who have been procrastinating and living out our dreams on Facebook pretending to have the best families, the best spouses, the best kids or loads of moola in the bank.

Some of us are so God-fearing that we post all our kikis for all to see that we attend church every Sunday while we spend the whole sermon daydreaming about that cold 061 to soothe our bapalaz after church.

Or worse we worship with our cellphones constantly ringing or SMSing a kambeskiti who vanished on us the night before. We darkies also né – we just never seem to learn.

But how can I blame you when I also had my share of dreams and hopes this year that all went up in smoke? I know you are curious to know what I have been dreaming and hoping about this year. Well, for one I was desiring to drive that Range Rover I have been dreaming about all year. Unfortunately, nothing materialized and it doesn’t seem like it will happen for another year.

Between dodging the “I am selling” Zim ladies who I owe everything under the sun from the cockroach killers, the shoe hangers, ondelela material, bedcovers, handbags to Man United jerseys, what time is really there to make other meaningful plans?

Then there are the Pakistani boys from whom I had to constantly run for cover fearing that they might just do the unthinkable like tying me to a pole with some kaboom material for not paying my debt for their mirrors, carpets, paintings and blankets. Nothing is impossible these days I am telling you.

My other dream was to get married this year. Don’t laugh etsé. It’s not funny when you see all your pellies tying the knot and you are the only one left with no ka-ring on your finger. But after seeing the desperation among some ladies who would marry some hideous partner that you only meet in scary-dreams just because they want to be called Madam Boss, I decided to withdraw my hopes on that.

I was hoping that this year things would change for the better, especially between the sexes and races.  Sjoe, the kamborotos were in trouble this year, but things seem to have slowed down a little bit towards the other half of the year. I am just hoping that I am not jinxing things by talking about the wave of ‘passion killings’ that dominated the media this year. I see less Brazilian-haired cherries these days – maybe they have decided it’s better to go bald-headed than chopping money of these trigger friendly kamashonas that could care less if they end up becoming someone else’s wifey in the tjoekie.

Just when the dust seems to have settled, here comes a new wave of brutality against darkies especially on farms and smaller towns. I have been trying to avoid this subject but nee man, we have to talk about this. How do you consciously shoot someone and his dogs and then bury them in one grave, then say that you couldn’t make a difference between a dog and a human being?

Then in another incident you tie someone to a tree for days without food and water and claim that racism had no hand in that.

Maybe if it was to a pole, we could still find some humour in it that perhaps you wanted to see some lap-dance performance to entertain you. In the absence of that, I really have no words for such behaviour except this is akin destabilize our country if action is not taken very soon.  – Sorry Ngo!

 

By Magreth Nunuhe