Nujoma Through the Museum

A heartening thing about having a founding president whose image is synonymous with Namibia’s struggle for liberation is that, when he dies, there are some obvious places to pay your respects.

Two days after the death of the late, great Sam Nujoma, his large bronze likeness, which guards the historical treasures housed in Windhoek’s Independence Memorial Museum, beckons in the midday sun.

Though the statue has stood tall for over a decade, I imagine it looks a little different now that Nujoma is no more.

No longer reflective of someone who is alive and perhaps somewhere in the city, the statue seems to have acquired the extra level of gravitas that is inherent in concluding one’s earthly journey.

In this new light, Nujoma’s statue, which carries the Namibian Constitution, becomes a guardian of the binding document he holds aloft.

In his hands, the Constitution is elevated as supreme, above him, and protective of the populace who live and strive below. A guiding tome meant to safeguard all people who call Namibia home, particularly in the wake of the oppressive colonial and apartheid systems that necessitated armed struggle.

Recorded history tells us that such inviolable constitutional protection has not always been ensured but, perhaps, today is not the day to discuss it.

Instead, I make my way up the Independence Memorial Museum’s stairs and heed the directions of a friendly guard to begin an expedition through the relatively recent past on the museum’s first floor.

As if waiting, Nujoma’s face smiles from within a rendering of the Namibian flag in the opening gallery.

The founding president is flanked by bas-reliefs of early resistance leaders such as kaptein Hendrik Witbooi, King Mandume ya Ndemufayo, King Nehale lya Mpingana, chief Samuel Maherero and chief Hosea Kutako among others.

The images of such leaders remind us how long Namibia’s struggle for independence truly was, beginning with the violence and genocide that distinguished the German colonial era before the oppression, separation and exploitation which were the hallmarks of the age of apartheid.

In the museum, both these realities come to life.

While the creative aesthetic is distinctly North Korean in its stylised images of nationhood and harrowing murals depicting pivotal moments of armed struggle, the stories of Cassinga, Omugulugwombashe and the migrant labour system are our own.

The thread running throughout the museum’s exhibits is the story of Nujoma, who is presented at various stages of his life .

In the numerous photographic displays, an unwavering Nujoma is a younger man founding the South West Africa People’s Organisation in 1960, petitioning the United Nations (UN) for Namibia’s liberation, mobilising and supporting the People’s Liberation Army of Namibia’s combatants, meeting with political leaders and allies and finally being inducted as Namibia’s founding president in 1990.

Items such as the petition to the UN, signed by Nujoma and Lewis Nelengani and sent to the UN through reverend Michael Scott, as well as the suitcase Nujoma left the country with in 1960, are particularly poignant and precious.

The caption that accompanies Nujoma’s suitcase reads: “It was bought for him by chief Hosea Kutako, who encouraged him to go into exile to find a solution to the problem of Namibia.”

This tidbit is short and fascinating and the suitcase is truly a treasure, but the captions at the Independence Memorial Museum can do with some improvement.

A museum employee seated near a gallery doorway tells me that such an upgrade is imminent.

Metal stands meant to house iPads which will offer more historical context and commentary are already in place, and a number of blank television sets promise relevant archival footage to accompany the displays.

I look forward to visiting again once the story of Namibia’s struggle for independence is told more deeply.

With the recent deaths of president Hage Geingob and founding president Nujoma, one wonders at the work of archiving and documentation.

Have we asked our elders what transpired in the years before Namibia’s freedom? Have we adequately recorded the unique and diverse perspectives of liberation struggle heroes, exiled Namibians, returned combatants and the ordinary people who experienced the day-to-day evil of German colonial rule and apartheid?

Though the Independence Memorial Museum does a decent job, there is much work to be done while the Namibians who survived the most brutal eras of our history are still alive.

As for the country’s founding president, one can certainly encounter him through the museum and, perhaps most formidably, looking over the city centre, cast in bronze.

May we always hold the Namibian Constitution high in his honour and may his liberating soul rest in peace.