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Tassenberg in Hochland Park

Home Archived Tassenberg in Hochland Park

John Ekongo You see, there is this perpetuated myth that the greened bottled red wine is a liquid made for the poor. So let alone finding it in a fancy neighbourhood like Hochland Park can be a daunting task. The one time it makes itself available in this affluent suburb, you are sure to expect that it is in the company of some potbellied well-empowered black men, having a nice time in their outdoor thatched-roof lapa’s, with Namibian beef by their side. Perhaps trying to recall the good old days back in the lokasie, prior to making it big. The last thing you expect, is when three young beautiful sexy women that look like they just emerged from Vogue magazine, walk in at a house with four proudly (full to the brim) erected Tassenberg bottles. Label me male chauvinistic pig, but I thought women like that do not exist in Windhoek. Please understand my excitement, the type of ladies I know who drink will usually go with some sort of cider, classy wines or some bottle of sherry you only find in three shops in the entire city. To have women, beautiful women, claim that they only take Tassies as their favourite drink, now that is classic. My friends had all given thumbs up to the ladies, obviously that they are good company to hang out with. Considering the cost implication, one Tassenberg bottle hardly makes a dent in one’s pockets. What I was trying to say is not that I am a chauvinistic typical black brother with no class from the “kasie”. It is the roots that matter and back in the “kasie” (Katutura for those of us who are geographically challenged) Tassies is the order of the day. Which brings me to the point – how come some of the ladies find it revolting when the brothers take Tassies? I understand fully the status of our city women, not wanting to be associated with anything cheap. We have got class to maintain. We are not saying that you are cheap, just because you had a couple of glasses of Tassies. Quite the contrary, in fact you just showed that I am a people’s person and I can hang with the boys anytime. But what they forget is that you know wine is wine, and the one and only happens to be Namibia’s favourite wine. So get with the flow and stop trying to be fancy. Some ladies go out of their way to try to get the most expensive drink on the house, trying to make their mark. What they don’t know actually is that they chase the brothers away. Next time the brothers want to chill, you will hear, “Forget about Hilya, she likes expensive drinks, rather get Loide our budget is already tiny, at least we can squeeze a bottle or two of Tassenberg out of it.” By the way, the advantages of taking the red guy are limitless – there won’t be any headaches and after-morning symptoms, it inspires your eating appetite, you need not worry and give yourself headaches where to find Tassies, it is the best seller in every shebeen. Undeniably, if you are serious about saving big, and still like having a good time, Tassenberg is the right choice. It is not forced upon anyone – if you buy your own drink that is cool, but at least have mercy for the brothers you know. The drinking budget is very limited. Just so that we are clear, I am under no circumstance whatsoever a recently appointed official spokesperson of Tassenberg – it would be nice though if they consider that possibility. But all I am saying is that I have respect for the green bottled liquid, and after a long absence, I am feeling inspired again to get my hands on the guy. After seeing the beautiful ladies going out full steam on the classic wine, I could not admire their bravery in going where no other Windhoek lady has gone before. That needs applause, but as you know me, I am not all praise and mute words. Yes it is a drink but it does not mean you have to abuse it though, So for my three model ladies, I take my hat off and at the same time, I still say, four large ones, that’s way too much, eh! To all fellow journos, thank you for slaving away all year round for peanuts as a salary and chasing around dead-end stories just because someone needs to have a paper tomorrow morning. Happy World Press Freedom Day, I trust you do not abuse it like I do. Sorry Ngo!