I am a very proud Namibian today. Proud because a boy who was born under a tree at a cattle post in Grootfontein is being recognised today and loved by the world, and he deserves it.
The outpouring of bravery since his passing is a testament to how deeply he was loved. For us to be joined by so many dignitaries all over the world, by so many presidents, all of whom he regarded as his friends, speak to him as making friends.
Hage connected easily to people, and people from all walks of live easily connected to him. His sincerity had a way of connecting with people, and that sincerity connected us in grief from across oceans, across the continent, and in every corner of Namibia.
Hage, the internationalist, the pan-Africanist, the proud Namibian, the family man, a father to many, spoke of a house where we pulled together in the same direction. In mourning Hage, Namibia became everything he wanted us to be, united and law-abiding, and pulling in the same direction.
In his death, Hage truly came alive, as he transitioned out of the limit set by his earthly body. We also transcended the political, racial and ethnic boundaries we sometimes impose on ourselves. Hage was dedicated to building an inclusive and united Namibia that lived up to its potential.
He wanted the country’s integration of culture, he wanted the same integration and unity in his blended family. He and I, Mangaliso, Helmut, Nangula, Oshoveli, Dangos, Nino, Junior and Kyla, as well as many of his sons and daughters he took as his own.
The love and unity you see in our blended family are a testament to his leadership skills, even at the family level. Hage was our north star, and when we looked at him, we knew in which direction to go. He may no longer be with us, but he left us with a map that has clear directions.
And he told me this week that they have felt lost or orphaned and fatherless, some felt they lost a baobab tree that shielded them from the sun, their protector, defender and mentor. I feel the same.
I feel like I no longer have my anchor, I feel like if Hage died, what am I doing here? Described as a destiny shaper, he contributed significantly to shaping this country’s destiny.
Hage was an old soul with a youthful spirit. He believed that love was foundational; Hage had high confidence and courage, always a leader. He marched to the beat of his drums. I have always admired his ability to understand complex problems quickly. While others found a problem for every solution, Hage always found a solution for every problem. He was such a good problem-solver that he would often turn a casual conversation into a solution-finding exercise, even though you did not ask him for a solution.
He was always in a position of power, whether as a teacher, a young man, or a president much later in life. For a powerful man, Hage was humble, and for a humble man, he was also complex. But within his complexity were simplicity, authenticity, consistency and vulnerability. This is what made him a people’s person – he had a heart for people, and people had a heart for him.
My husband was an honest man, a man who spoke his mind even when it was inconvenient and uncomfortable to do so.
His passing was traumatising and unexpected. He was eager to retire, and true to his word, he didn’t overstay. In his last months, he spoke of ensuring a smooth transition, and even though he left too early, the transition was smooth, just not the one he expected.
Many people can tell you where they were when they heard that Hage had passed. I will tell you where I was, by his side, shocked to the deepest part of my core that someone so full of life and love had just taken his last breath. Death will humble you. Hage’s passing is a reminder to tell us to be prepared. I was not ready to lose Hage. You defined love; nothing will ever be the same without you. The people’s president, my president, my best friend, you were born a peasant, and died a president. Rest in power Ou Hageba, Kai Axaba.
*This is an extract from former first lady Monica Geingos’ tribute to her husband, late president Hage Geingob, during the State memorial service on Saturday in Windhoek.