The Vatican Needs a Namibian Pope– Finish-en-Klaar

I want you to imagine this with me quickly.

It is Sunday morning in the Vatican City. Pilgrims arrives from all corners of the globe, rosaries in hand, hearts full of faith. But today, they are greeted not with the usual “Buongiorno”, but with a hearty, full-bodied “Tjike Munene!” or, depending on which gate you enter through, a melodious “Ongeipe Groote!” Because yes, the pope is now Namibian.

No, this isn’t the start of a Netflix comedy. It’s the rebranding heaven never knew it needed.

And if you think this is some far-fetched, incense-smoked fantasy, think again. We’re apparently 99% Christian out here in Namibia, excluding the few who still pray to the ‘Omumborombonga’ tree. If we’re all ‘kama’ equal in the eyes of the Almighty, then it’s time we occupy heaven starting from the steps of St Peter’s Basilica.

First things first: the Swiss Guard must go.

No disrespect to the boys from Geneva, but let’s be honest, in a real crisis, their puffy pyjama-looking uniforms are just not combat ready.

Enter Ombandje Security or Limbandungila Guards.

Yes, the same guys who secure schools and stand like judgment day itself outside the Ministry of Finance and Social Grants Management. These gentlemen, along with a few ex-People’s Liberation Army of Namibia combatants still itching for international deployment, would form the new Pontifical People’s Guard.

The uniforms?

Red Flag Day at Okahandja has already done the design work – a bold blend of military swagger and cultural gravitas. Think more along the lines of leather belts, leopard print sashes and berets that say “I dare you to sin. Try me!”.

Now, let’s address the Holy Communion situation. Those dry little wafers, more bland than dried donkey droppings, simply won’t do anymore. In the Namibian Papacy, omahangu (millet bread) will be consecrated and distributed with divine flair. As for the wine? We’re replacing that imported sacramental vintage piss with Castello for morning mass (just enough to start the day holy) and punya-punya for the evening, because spiritual reflection pairs well with a little fermented enlightenment.

And that’s not all. The papal robe is a problem. That ghostly off-white ensemble that looks like it was sewn during loadshedding at Kayelitsha must get an upgrade. We’re talking ondelela fabric, people! Royal blues, fire reds, golds that gleam like the gates of heaven – the pope won’t just preach; he’ll slay in the name of the Lord.

Since Namibia is female, the pope from Namibia might just be …? Or, is it too soon?

Now, about those Vatican murals, call Hage Mukwendje up and give him an apartment somewhere near Esquilino where he will fit in.

Let’s be real, Michelangelo was great, but where’s the diversity?

It’s time for a local artist to come in and add some melanin to the Madonna. Let’s see some brown saints, an afro on an archangel, maybe Jesus with a high-top fade. And why stop there? The Sistine Chapel ceiling needs a fresh coat, cue murals of the Namib Desert at sunrise, with angels riding oryx and cherubs sipping oshikundu.

Ah yes! The statues! How could we forget the army of emotionless saints, chiseled to perfection by long-dead Italians with zero exposure to sunscreen?

It’s time to send in Kambezunda Ngavee, Namibia’s sculptural sage and master of the marble stone. Its time to put the ‘real’ back in ‘religious realism’.

St Peter’s Basilica will now feature Saint Moses with a Himba twist, stained with red ochre, a goat herder’s staff in hand, stepping through parted sand dunes in sandals with soles from Dunlop tyres. The Virgin Mary statue will now feature a Dark and Lovely shade with baby Jesus in the ondhikwa on her back where he belongs. No Namibian woman carries a child on the hip while fetching water from the waterhole. ‘Maria’ will now wear a traditional Damara dress with a toddler clearly throwing a tantrum. Relatable holiness, finally.

And the music? Oh Lord, the music.

Those airy, monotone boys’ choirs from Ireland? Bless their little lungs, but we need soul and spirit. It’s time to inject a Damara-Nama choir to shake things up with a conductor from Soli Deo Gloria.

Throw in some Ngoma drumming, Ovambo ululating and Tswana feet stomping, and you’ve got a hymn line-up that makes Pentecost look like a lukewarm rehearsal.

Let’s even decolonise the bells. Why not use a vuvuzela of the Lord to call the world to prayer? The bells are outdated.

Yes, the world might not be ready for a Namibian pope, but that’s their problem. As the late founding president Sam Nujoma would have said if ever asked: “We are ready. We liberated Namibia from the boers and we can liberate the Vatican City.”