Why Namibia Can’t Function

IT is Mariental-day. I have two farmworkers with bad toothache, and a bit of farm shopping to do. The dentist would be available as from 08h00, I was told on the phone.

I leave the farm at 06h00 to make sure my staff are there early to avoid sitting in a waiting queue all day. At exactly 07h30 I drop them off. I quickly fetch a few things for the farm, and arrive at the post office just after 08h00. In horror I realise that it is pension day. Approximately 200 people try to collect their pension on that day. On a normal day, there is a 20-cm-thick layer of rubbish lying around the entrance and the post boxes, but on busy days it quickly doubles, and the smell is disgusting. I wrestle my way to the post box and discover there is a registered letter for me at the counter. I open the door, hoping for a miracle in the form of a non-pensioner open counter, but, like always, miracles are out of stock. A businesswoman comes in behind me and asks whether it would be possible to have an extra, non-pensioner counter opened. It may come as a surprise, but there are actually people who cannot afford to spend hours in a queue at the post office. She receives the national ‘I couldn’t care less’ look and a shrug. Then she has the audacity to ask for the postmaster and receives the standard answer ‘Sy is uit’.I decide to not get my letter and head for Home Affairs. A beautiful new building greets me, the interior stylish and sparkling. The counters are clearly indicated by nice boards. The only problem is that all counters are unmanned. There are several people standing around waiting for service. After a considerable waiting period, a young woman crawls into the hall in slow-motion snail style. My question as to whether she works there and can help me is answered with a shrug and the words: ‘That depends on what you want.’ Shortly after that she mercifully hands me an application form.Still dazed by so much goodwill and efficacy I entertain the crazy thought that my staff could be finished at the dentist. It is 09h30 when I arrive at the hospital. No one there. I call their cell number and hear they haven’t been seen yet. With no other choice I engage in the Namibian national sport: waiting! After 10 phone calls, close to a hysterical breakdown, my staff walk out at 12h37 as the doctor did not come until 10h20 and after the treatment they still had to wait for over one hour for their pills and passports.One last little ‘funny’ story. A little while ago, a visitor from Germany wanted to see the Heroes’ Acre in Windhoek. The vandalised boom and signboard really show the pride and sincerity with which the people honour their heroes! And one last question: Why didn’t anyone tell me that the Windhoek rubbish dump has been relocated to the Heroes’ Acre?I am tired of just swallowing everything silently. I used to be incredibly proud of this beautiful country, but unfortunately nowadays one is ashamed of it on many occasions. But there are still a lot of good, hardworking people of all colours in this country. Stand up and have your say! Nothing will ever change by silence.Not giving upVia e-mail