Some of the most fascinating stories are the stories of what places used to be.
When I was younger, I found this hard to fathom. How easily a place could be everything the one day and nothing the next. Except not nothing. Something, coming, that owes nothing to what it was before.
I’ve seen the old colonial red and white building in the city’s downtown arts district be many things – a French bistro, an Ethiopian restaurant, a non-descript little eatery – but nothing quite like Café Prestige.
When it first appears, run by two aspiring but low-key Canadians, Prestige is a sparkling, spacious, warmly aesthetic café at Freedom Plaza. The ambitions of the owners, Hanan Paikin and Johnathan Fong, are humble and homemaking.
They want to serve good coffee. They plan to elevate the humble cheese sandwich to the likes of prosciutto, brie and a drizzle of fig jam on freshly baked bread and they hope to be a hub for digital nomads looking for somewhere with zippy WiFi, creative locals and good vibes.
In that, they succeed.
On any given day the place boasts a scattering of innovative entrepreneurs, young media moguls, artists, writers, journalists, tourists, desk independent freelancers and the folks who call Freedom Plaza home.
There isn’t anywhere quite like it in the city and the space seamlessly evolves from solid work and meeting spot by day to sophisticated after-work drinks as the sun sets bright orange on the horizon. For a while, Prestige is the place to see and be seen. Its large glass windows and studio white interiors creating selfie and ‘outfit of the day’ lighting for the gods.
Prestige ticks on this way for a while but, when the ShutItAllDown protests against sexual and gender-based violence rock the city, the café becomes so much more.
For human rights defenders, activists and protestors, it emerges as a place to plan, to regroup and to duck into when in danger. Eventually, photographs from the historic protests are on display at the café in an exhibition boldly titled ‘You F*cked With The Wrong Generation’, a homage to the fiery chant screamed at the top of the protestors’ lungs as they stopped traffic in the CBD to demand better from the government, from men and society at large.
Something shifts amid the ShutItAllDown protests and Prestige becomes the unofficial, central headquarters of a bubbling revolution. Soon, when same-sex couple Phillip Lühl and Guillermo Delgado beseech the government to bring their twins Paula and Maya home, Prestige is where activists meet, fortify and strategise.
The beauty of Café Prestige is that Hanan and John allowed it to be whatever we needed it to be. A
n art gallery championing debut artists, a site for open mics and then, of course, most famously, the place to birth a drag night.
It’s here where Drag Night Namibia first took the city by storm, consistently selling out two shows and introducing Windhoekers to a new type of artistry and community.
Café Prestige has meant different things to different people and as this coffee shop, this work room, this studio, this art gallery, this wine and cocktail bar, this taco joint, this safe space, this home away from home announces its closure, I take a moment to write this on a plane sitting on the tarmac in Cyprus on my roundabout way to Berlin.
It’s my first overseas trip since the pandemic and one of its main plot points is that I’m travelling to view and talk about my first international exhibition as a featured photographer in Germany. This admittedly unexpected string of words begins with Café Prestige.
Last year, Prestige showcased a preview of my photographic series on local hair salons alongside a number of other talented photographers. ‘Home of Mine’ is a Reframe Kollectiv exhibition now on at Fotogalerie Friedrichshain, an esteemed Berlin gallery that no doubt believed in us because Prestige did.
As Café Prestige becomes a story about what places used to be, it feels fitting to say a heartfelt thank you.
The old colonial building will be renamed, painted over and nurture new dreams, new ambitions, new crowds and perhaps new revolutions.
But for those of us who know, who will pass what used to be with a deep and longing sigh, Prestige – the unassuming little café that became one of the most subversive scenes in the city – will live on as we continue to seek what it gifted us.
Safety, creativity, community, freedom.
– martha@namibian.com.na; Martha Mukaiwa on Twitter and Instagram; marthamukaiwa.com
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