Black Friday se Moer!

Please keep your smart TV and give me a discount on maize meal this blackest of all Black Fridays.

I mean, why are you giving me discounts on things I only want and then you raise the prices on the stuff I actually need.
Nee man!

To make life hard on everyone, Black Friday is suddenly the entire November just to make sure we are truly captured.

We started getting messages on “massive savings”, “price slashed” and “upgrade your life now” on the first of November already.

We are not even sure which Friday is really Black any more. Black Friday se moer.

Honestly, why are we losing our minds over gadgets? How many flat-screen TVs can one person buy?

Yet every Black Friday they are back in the queue, ready to add a fourth one to the collection, just in case the other three feel lonely.

And even if you buy the TV, the way electricity prices are dancing upward, you will simply mount that beautiful screen in your living room and then sit in the dark looking at your reflection like a tokoloshi contemplating its choices.

The TV may be discounted, but the prepaid meter is not. That thing is ruthless.

You load N$50 today and it disappears like an absent father.

Throw in a TV licence and suddenly the only thing you’re watching is your budget evaporate.

Air fryers are another obsession. What the hell is an air fryer anyway? We upgraded from open-flame cooking to ovens, to microwaves and now we are being sold something to do with air and frying.

Every kitchen in Khomasdal, Katutura and beyond has one and none of them know how to use it.

Please tell me if I can cook a goat head and trotters quicker and cheaper, and I might just consider the device.

I’ve seen people are now experimenting with air frying things that should not come anywhere near that machine.

Someone tried air frying kapana the other day. It came out looking like a piece of biltong that survived a drought.

You cannot eat an air fryer and it cannot manufacture miracles. Accept this truth and free yourself. What we actually need is not another appliance. What we need is groceries priced like the country actually wants us to live.

Discount the food and I will worship you, Mr Black Friday. Forget the Bluetooth speakers.

If someone tells me tomatoes are half price, I will run like it’s a marathon qualifying race. We do not need discounted luxuries. We need discounted survival.

Imagine walking into a supermarket on Black Friday and finding maize meal priced like the government suddenly subsidised it.

Maybe because they care or it’s election month. Picture a 20kg bag of Number One maize going for N$50.

The celebration would shake the nation. People would break into spontaneous ululation. That is the kind of special that unites tribes.

Even better would be beef that finally behaves itself. Let the shops announce a proper discount on beef or canned fish so that we can walk to the shops like we are marching at a political rally.

Let Oshikandela go on a real discount, not those pretend specials that reduce the price by 99c.

Otherwise, Black Friday se voet!

And do not even get me started on petrol. If a filling station announced that diesel is dropping to N$15 a litre for Black Friday, people would drive from Windhoek to Okahandja and come back on pure gratitude. Motorists would cry. Not tears of sadness. Tears of deliverance.

The big problem is that retailers are focused on selling us shiny objects we do not need when our daily necessities are out here behaving like luxury goods.

They want to offer us a double-door fridge that makes its own ice, but they will not discount the eggs that go inside or the cooking oil that determines if you will fry or simply steam everything into depression.

Which brings us to the annual Januworry tragedy.

You buy the unbelievable Black Friday special, feel like King December for 30 days, and then January scoops you back into reality.

Suddenly school shoes must be bought. Uniforms must be bought. Bread must be bought. Everything must be bought except you are still paying off the TV you cannot switch on because the electricity budget collapsed.

Then you start wondering if you can trade that soundbar for a box of chicken pieces and two loaves of that fluffy Bokomo Private School loaf of bread.

So, if Black Friday does not come with what we need, I only have one thing to say this week: Black Friday se moer!

In an age of information overload, Sunrise is The Namibian’s morning briefing, delivered at 6h00 from Monday to Friday. It offers a curated rundown of the most important stories from the past 24 hours – occasionally with a light, witty touch. It’s an essential way to stay informed. Subscribe and join our newsletter community.