A group of toddlers who belonged at the kindergarten was dropped off at an important meeting at Swakopmund, and they did exactly what babies do. They made a mess.
A real gaga-boo-boo happened at the National Youth Council of Namibia’s highly anticipated general assembly at the coast.
For many years now, we have been subjected to a song called ‘It’s Our Time!’ and ‘We Are the Leaders of Tomorrow!’.
They have been at these songs since nineteen-foetsek.
Young politicians in crisp suits and fresh hairdos have been demanding that the elders should hand over the keys to the country. Well, 2026 arrived. Tomorrow became today.
This is like a parent singing ‘Kaana Kameme, Eumboo lolo …’, giving the child the house keys, and then getting a call that the house is on fire within 48 hours. The police had to intervene. There were farts that got confused for teargas. There was darkness with phone flashlights that made it feel like a real disco.
A child was holding another child’s leg as if hanging on to daddy for dear life. The other one was clearly drunk, while the cute ones were on their phones streaming to the entire nation.
Yes, the snitches brought us all into the mess with their cellphones.
This was an absolute masterpiece of self-sabotage.
The video and audio clips from there felt less like a political transition and more like watching a daycare centre.
I’m talking about the type of daycare centre where you wouldn’t drop your bundle of joy off.
Imagine a room full of toddlers from entirely different neighbourhoods, all dropped off at a kindergarten with no rules. That was the Swakopmund assembly.
Instead of debating the youth unemployment crisis, our future leaders decided to run amok. They spent the weekend smearing each other with political snot, aggressively snatching each other’s lunch boxes, and crying because someone else got the toy they wanted.
By the time the dust and the teargas settled, the entire event was called off – a real kindergarten without a caretaker.
Leaders of tomorrow ti? Isn’t today the tomorrow they spoke of a decade ago? Is this not the future they were kama ready for? Someone clearly was not ready to lead anything. Or perhaps we must blame the adults, in this case, the political parties and organisations that dropped these little brats off at an important meeting, well knowing it will only turn into boo-boo-gaga.
Or could it be that the elders had a hand in it?
The entire collapse reportedly started because of disputes about the voting list. Names were captured incorrectly, eligible voters were missing, and ineligible people magically appeared. Doesn’t this remind you of the chaos when the class prefect had to write down the names of all the ‘noise makers’, and then some people would just be there even when they were off sick?
The only difference here is that all the delegates were ‘geraasmakers’.
Unfortunately, none of these children will be written up for detention for wasting taxpayers’ money. I hear it is a whole two million dollars wasted. What angers the taxpayers is that a few more million dollars will have to be spent since they could not complete the mission.
Or, if we have it our way, why not make each organisation that sent delegates pay for the next meeting? Then we will see how they behave when it is their own money on the table. How about that? Huh?
They are calling the youth council a ‘curse’ now, claiming the influx of funding has ruined it. No, the funding did not ruin it. The funding simply exposed that the hunger to lead was actually just a hunger for positions, titles and the daily allowances that come with sitting in a coastal conference hall.
We were promised transformation, but we were given a chaotic playgroup. If this weekend was a preview of what Namibia looks like when the youth finally take over the entire state, we might want to ask the elders to hold onto those keys for just a little bit longer.
Hell, we can bury the old guard with the keys in the coffins. These kids are not ready!
They were singing a totally different national anthem:
Namibia, land of the young,
We pledge to never grow up.
Our suits are big, our tempers short,
Hold our hands, we want to play!
