Swakopmund in june: a crisp Atlantic breeze, beautiful dunes, and the soothing sound of national youth leaders exchanging right hooks, purportedly over voter verification lists.
We all know the chaos was proudly sponsored by senior moneyed youth who still feel the need to meddle in the affairs of their old stomping ground (lest a new sheriff unravel past indiscretions).
The shenanigans only started when it became clear that one of the Simon factions was not going to survive. When one takes issue with attendance lists, why wait until you lose a vote badly?
If you thought the coastal fog was thick, it had nothing on the sharpness shown by delegates to the third National Youth Council General Assembly. What was supposed to be a civilised gathering to elect the next big boss transformed into a full contact sport, leaving nine delegates injured and the rest of us wondering if the leadership process should be replaced with an actual, literal cage fight.
Clearly the current way of choosing leaders is too boring for the upcoming generation. Why waste time on debates when you can stage a massive walkout because someone’s name got left off a piece of paper?
The battle between Esther Simon and Simon Taapopi was already looking like a proper Swapo slate showdown before the chaos erupted. To prevent future delays and save taxpayers serious ching, we should stop using ballot papers entirely.
Instead, the executive chairperson position should be decided by a high-stakes game of kapana roulette. Whoever can chow the most pieces of fatty beef without calling for a beer gets the crown.
It’s a true test of Namibian resilience, and quite honestly, it would carry way more street cred than a disputed voter roll. If they do not fancy the kapana route, we could easily move it to an online platform.
But not Zoom.
Zoom is for old people.
We should hold the next general assembly inside a standard Grand Theft Auto online lobby.
Think about it.
Delegates can settle their verification disputes using virtual rocket launchers. If a faction feels their names were omitted, they can simply hijack a digital helicopter and fly it into the NYC headquarters. It achieves exactly the same level of productive chaos we saw at Swakop, but with zero physical injuries and significantly cheaper medical bills.
Furthermore, the Electoral Commission of Namibia could learn a thing or two about resigning when things get a bit rof of your own making.
We need an unshakeable, terrifying authority to oversee proceedings. Let’s replace the entire electoral committee with a panel of absolute tates, specifically selected taxi drivers from the Otjomuise rank in Windhoek.
These commanders of the road do not tolerate nonsense. If a delegate tries to start a scuffle or stage a walkout, a taxi driver will simply hoot aggressively, shout at them to wys their licence was not bought in the Natis parking lot, and threaten to leave them stranded by the roadside or launch their ramshackle raasmobile straight at rowdy revellers.
Security is important. Our esteemed youth minister Sanet Steenkamp was perfectly right to postpone the whole thing indefinitely after the Swakopmund disaster.
The next logical step is to collapse NYC as a department of the ministry, just like the Namibia Students Financial Assistance Fund.
Both troublesome institutions couldn’t organise a piss-up in a brewery. In the interim, we should hand over the youth council’s daily operations to local shebeen owners. They are the real community leaders.
They know how to manage unruly crowds, they understand budget allocations down to the last cent, and, most importantly, they know exactly how to handle kalia mupombos who start fights over nothing and have had more public spats than a drunken couple at the end of the month.
The Swakopmund assembly showed that Namibian youth politics is alive, kicking, and literally punching. If we just tweak the system to embrace the chaos, the future is incredibly bright.
– News always deals with serious matters. Here we give you the other side.
