Aweeh, how have you been? Since I jika-jika-ed out, so many things have happened in the Land of the Brave, but many a Namibian have a very short memory span. Do you still remember the outbreak of anthrax and Ebola, and how everyone went berserk with theories in their heads about these dreadful, dangerous diseases? Now, we have a dronk virus called coronavirus – of all the viruses, did they have to christen it after the Mexican beer, Corona?
So far, the ministry of health has cleared our suspicions and anxiety that the awful kamukise is under control and it was reported that the Swakopmund patient who was quarantined under suspicion that she might carry the virus has tested negative.
But social media and their citizen journalists just had to send us back into overdrive after they showed pictures of masked officers at the Hosea Kutako airport trying to detect the virus, using what looked like thermometers that nurses use to measure body temperature.
Huuu Elotse! If this is at all true, then Namibia is not taking this disease seriously. You know we are only 2.4 million people. Imagine what such a catastrophe could do to Namibia, seeing how it has taken its toll in China with a population of over 1.4 billion.
Coronavirus would spread in Namibia faster than the wildfire in Australia, I tell you. Namibians like their outdoors too much and even if the president declared a state of emergency or Operation Kalahari Desert came out with its sjamboks ordering citizens to stay in-doors, I am not sure that would work out. You will hear some saying in defiance, “Is mos my coronavirus. Is mos not yours? Ai.”
Imagine, Namibians hearing no work but with pay. Palkies and Goreangab Dam would be overcrowded every day. Single Quarters’ kapana would be sold out; Herero Mall’s trading hours would be extended indefinitely to give City Police more headaches; rooster brood in Funky Town would be our daily bread and Evelyn Street would still be tot patji.
By the time government realise the burden of non-productivity, hospitals and clinics would be filled to the brim with coronavirus patients; newspapers would be abuzz with prophets and priests claiming their ‘miracle’ healing powers.
And while we are in the mystery of this dreadful coronavirus that we know little about, some Namibian men have apparently organised a Men’s Conference to take place in Okahandja next weekend – just so they avoid Valentine’s Day, etse!
Please take note that the conference will not take place, as most members have opted out in the unforeseen circumstances that may lead to a coronavirus outbreak.
Men are asked to choose between the following two Valentines Banquets:
Valentine Banquet A:
Friday, 08:00: Delivery of a bouquet of red roses, chocolate box and champagne at her work station.
Friday, 18:00: Private dinner at the Hilton Sky Bar (with a gift).
Friday, 21:00: Music show at Avani Hotel with R&B hot sensations.
Saturday, 18h00: Romantic movie screening at Maerua Mall Cinema.
Saturday, 21h00: Masquerade ball at Hotel Thule.
Sunday, 10h00: Breakfast at Safari Hotel.
Sunday, 12h00: Massage therapy at Mama’s Body Massage.
Sunday, 16h00: Make-over at Heaven Beauty Spa.
Sunday, 18h00: Sundowner at the Wine Bar.
Valentines Banquet B:
1. Friday (all day)
At Club Chez Ntemba: I am sure your 14-year old nephew knows where it is – ask him for directions. When you arrive there, the only favour I will ask from you is to request the DJ to play me ‘Jerusalema’ all night, pay drinks for me and my seven chomas. After that, everyone is on their own. And you better not embarrass me and call me sweet-heart. What if other young thangs wanna dance with me and you are all over me like a bodyguard?
2. Saturday (all day)
Come to my chomas’ house in Rykmansdorp. With all the noise, the smoke and all the cars parked outside, it will be easy to find. Please don’t ask what street it is because those street signs have been stolen long time ago. Unfortunately, those are my best directions to the party, and if you are coming from town, and don’t know where Club Pamodzi is – I can’t help you because if you grew up in Ludwigsdorf and Olympia, and only found out now that there is a place called Katutura, Sorry Ngo! Before I forget, please make sure you bring a lot of drinks and a gift. We will serve food, but we will run out of meat. There will be enough pap and salad – that we will make sure. So, stop by the kapana stalls in Single Quarters, at Otjikaendu (Milpa) for goat-heads and a carcass at Rand Street.
3. Sunday (all day)
Sunday will be the culmination of our love and directions to my mbashu are as follows: If you are coming from the side of the Midnight Express – Club Thriller (Die Pink Huis), you must first turn links (left), jump over the tire paaie (tarred road), drive for a while but not too long. You will see a few blikkies houses on your left in an open field – just keep driving. Then as you come close to the robots, you will see Tate Petu’s green house on the right; you remember he used to fix shoes in those days. Ja, that’s him. My mbashu is just a few metres from there. Psss… make sure you bring a lot of drinks and food along. Lastly, make sure that you have your doctor’s medical certificate in order for Monday. You never know how long the party might last and I can’t guarantee your safety – this is Tura and the ncina boys are hard at work. Sorry Ngo!
mnunuhe@gmail.com