John Ekongo
The first time I heard of the place I thought it was plain ludicrous. I registered my blatant Oshiwambo-style ignorance, not that I am saying that my tribe is ignorant, but well this time I was ignorant.
You guys don’t have a mall. What do you mean a Herero mall, was the question I would always ask my colleague, Samita, every Monday morning, after narrating to me and the other poor souls the en-masse of leisurely activities that happened over the weekend at the mall.
So to put the pudding to the eating, I galloped one weekend to the mall, to be precise the weekend of the Stars famous win, and subsequently a couple of weekends after that.
Alright fine, it’s not to say your typical Sandton-style South African shops inspired mall, hey? But it’s the only mall of a kind that has an upper level and lower level on the same ground. The composition of shops, it so happens to be a conglomerate of roving health un-conscious containers outfitted with a Chinese manufactured meat-saw, which in turns becomes fully fledge-unlicensed meat cutters and butcheries.
The same container by night miraculously becomes a thrusting shebeen offering 25 percent off on all brews. I needed no convincing that it was a Herero mall indeed – I inhaled so many recognizable diesel fumes, from Isuzu bakkies, only then did I understand the rationale behind the name. If Aus Delta wants advertising they should check the Herero mall out.
Unfortunately, my frequents to the H-mall, as abbreviated and as officially recognized by the Namibia Bus and Taxi Association, as a taxi zone, left me with a couple of questions of my own. Where are the other malls?
Being a journalist I was not only trained to question most of the time but also question with an offer for suggestions.
The popularity of the H-mall owes its existence to Chief ??????’??