Get Mommy a New Dzadzy or Keep the Current Dzadzy?

The great Namibian decision is upon us and we shall exercise all our powers as promised in the Constitution.

But the problem is that this is also ‘The Great Namibian Excuse season’ where we come up with all kinds of reasons for why we cannot wait in a line to cast a vote. We are either too rich, too poor, too smart or too dumb to know that if we want something, we are the ones to get it.

Remember the excitement about the voter registration process? Well, we didn’t turn up. We were too busy for that too.

For those who won’t vote because they didn’t register, sit down and shut up!

Let’s paint a picture, shall we? Imagine a narrow, dusty road on a sunny day in Windhoek. The smell of cheap brisket chops fills the air, and people are bustling around, energised from their mid-morning caffeine fixes. Everyone’s talking about the latest political drama, much like discussing an intense soap opera.

Yet, when the time comes to actually place a vote and influence that drama, it’s as if the entire cast has decided to take an extended holiday in the Kalahari.

Oh, But I’m Busy!

Here’s a classic example from our everyday life: how many times have we heard friends, family members or colleagues utter the phrase, “Oh, but I’m too busy”?

If I had a dollar for every time I heard this excuse in Namibia, I’d be stacking up enough to run for president myself. They’ve got time to complain about potholes or rising fuel prices, or engage in heated debates about who should be leading the nation, yet somehow voting always seems to fall on the back burner.

Remember how they queued for hours for Black November (or whatever that scam of a market day is called) to snag the latest air fryer or the hottest new sneakers? Yes, those very items deemed ‘essential’ by the modern-day pyramid of needs.

But when it comes to making time for democracy, those priorities get, shall we say, ‘misplaced’.

It’s a curious case of “I’ll wait all day for a thin and dry pizza in town to look cool but won’t spare three hours to help mommy secure the right head”. Wink-wink.

The Complaining Champions

You see, the Namibian talent for identifying who to blame knows no bounds. They love to critique: “that president doesn’t know what he’s doing”, or “the councillors are corrupt!”.

Meanwhile, less than half of these critics can even remember when they last cast a ballot. That is the one thing they are expected to do as citizens, plus paying their taxes, but they don’t. Is that not corruption?

Let’s not forget those who love to jump on the ‘tut-tut’ bandwagon. They’re loud on social media, reposting articles highlighting political failures like they’re auditioning for the role of Namibia’s chief complainer. But when the virtual applause dies down and it’s time for action, suddenly everyone has a pressing engagement elsewhere.

You’re a Coward

Whoever convinced you that it’s cool to pretend to not know about real-life issues really ought to be punished, sowaar.

It’s quite fascinating, really. Here you are, meticulously strategising how to assemble the perfect outfit for a party, yet when it comes to the true “look-good and feel-good” outfit that is democracy, you turn into a moegoe. That’s just a polite way of calling you a coward.

You can sense the feigned ignorance when asked about the local elections.

“Oh, are those happening?” they would reply with a sense of self-importance as if to impress the other empty heads around.

To Stay the Course or Change Direction: One Vote at a Time

Here’s a suggestion: how about channelling that energy and vocal dexterity into the voting booth?

Imagine the surreal scene where our fellow Namibians trade their complaints or compliments for ballot papers, arriving at polling stations with the same energy they reserve for African Stars and Chula Chula games.

The big decision is here: keep this ‘dzadzy’ or get mommy a new one? If you are not at the meeting, your mommy will make her pick without you.