Put that phone down and live life!

Good day. We need to have a serious family meeting.

A national emergency is brewing, and for once, it’s not about some political legacy or the fact that a loaf of bread now costs more than a down payment on a Polo Vivo.

Namibians are fast losing touch with reality as they sink deeper into social media realms on their phones. We are witnessing a voluntary, nationwide lobotomy, and we’re doing it to ourselves one “Aweh” bundle at a time.

If you walk through Wernhil Park or that other mall at Walvis Bay on a Saturday afternoon, it’s like a scene from The Last of Us, but instead of fungi, the parasite is 4G. You’ve got fully grown adults wandering around with their necks bent at a permanent 90-degree angle, looking like human question marks. Doctors haven’t officially named the condition yet, but I’ll suggest one: “scroll-scoliosis”.

It looks like they’re deep in prayer, but trust me, there is nothing holy about watching a teenager in Vietnam do a dance transition while trying to enter Pep Stores. They are physically here but mentally gone. They’re lost in the algorithm. You could slap them with a piece of uncleaned tripe and they wouldn’t even blink unless it showed up on their “For You” page.

And God forbid the network goes down. You haven’t seen true, biblical terror until you’ve seen a Namibian lose their mind because TN Mobile is dead again. I mean, their ancestors survived the Kalahari and literal colonialism, but these ones get hospitalised when the network is down.

Suddenly, that tate who can slaughter a goat with a pocketknife and argue land reform for six hours becomes a helpless toddler. He sits there, aggressively refreshing a dead screen like he’s performing CPR on a plastic brick. He looks at the wall. He looks at his hands. He looks back at the wall. Eventually, he looks at you and asks: “So … how is the family?”

Ti elo! You realise you haven’t spoken to this person without using an emoji since 2017.

Social media has effectively murdered the Namibian vibe. We used to be the most communal people on earth. You’d pitch up at someone’s house unannounced, sit on a plastic chair, and listen to a meme tell a story that had no point but somehow lasted until sunset. It was beautiful. Now? You need to book an appointment like you’re seeing a specialist. You send a WhatsApp, get the “blue ticks” of death, wait three business days, and then receive a voice note saying they’re “just vibing”.

Just vibing? My brother in Christ, you are sitting in a dark room scrolling through pictures of people you went to high school with and don’t even like. You aren’t vibing; you’re rotting. Meanwhile, the person sitting physically in the same room as you is getting “seen” in real life.

Then there are those who have completely lost the ability to use their vocal cords for anything other than repeating internet slang. You’re at a braai, there’s actual smoke, actual meat and actual humans, and someone tells a hilarious story about a taxi driver in Wanaheda. Instead of laughing, you know, that sound humans make with their lungs, they look you dead in the eye and say, “L. M. A. O.”. They spell it out like a robot with a low battery.

I saw a guy in Katutura tell his girl, face to face, that the relationship was “low-key giving mid”. She asked if he was okay, and he literally tried to “swipe up” on her face to change the conversation. We are glitching, Namibia. We need a factory reset.

But here’s where the joke gets a bit too real: the debt. Namibians are out here taking loans and maxing out their credit cards just to maintain an aesthetic that is 100% fiction. Someone posts their breakfast at a place in Eros and suddenly everyone wants to post the same. Not a meal at Xwama or Pepata, no, it must be in town. When it’s time for the end of the month, reality hits: “Insufficient funds in your account.”

What we need isn’t more or cheaper data bundles, it’s a national detox. We need a movement where someone’s grandmother confiscates every phone at the dinner table. We need to be forced to sit there in that awkward, itchy silence until someone is brave enough to start a conversation. Yes, let’s get uncomfortable, because that is human. That is what being alive actually feels like.

Put the phone down. Look up. There’s a wall right in front of you, and honestly, it’s more interesting than that dance challenge you’ve watched fourteen times.

Yes, I see you reading this on a screen instead of buying an actual newspaper and reading it like a normal human being. Sies tog!

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.

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