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The North
by Robert Mellis


Jo says I shouldn’t write this log because it will only worry our armchair voyagers. I say, not to worry. All the bad news won’t happen for another few years. But it is a taste of the future and you should know what lies ahead.

A self-styled “black revolutionary, not only offered no apologies, but also repeated his call for all white people in Namibia to be killed when he appeared in on a charge of racial discrimination in the Windhoek Magistrate’s Court on Friday.

The 33-year-old Methural Matundi, also known as “Malcolm X’Matundu, is the second suspect to have been arrested and charged with offences under the Prohibition of Racial Discrimination Act in connection with the display of a hand written poster stating “Kill all Whites” at a public demonstration in Windhoek on Aug. 24.

“I am the authentic author of that placard,” Matundi told The Namibian before he appeared in court. “The intention was to solicit the support of black people to employ that strategy, because the Mau Mau school of thought, of which I’m the head, believes that killing white people is the only way that we will get people to take black people seriously.”

This guy utterly believes in the Robert Mugabe method of taking the farms back from the white farmers and giving the land to the blacks – even though the black people had had no training or education in how to make the land fertile and abundant. This movement is growing in Namibia, too. The government has started the process of taking the farms from the whites – only two or three so far. But it is all part of their land resettlement policy. And it spells big trouble for the white farmers who may have been born on the land, as were their fathers and grandfathers. The whites are not Namibians so far as this group of people thinks because they originally “stole” the land from the black Africans.

We’ll watch how all this plays out in the next few years. But it doesn’t bode well for the whites or – ultimately – the blacks. They need to be taught how to make money on this arid land. It is not good enough to subsist, I think. They need to prosper otherwise nothing is gained. But that’s my capitalist thinking kicking in.

Oshakati is a large town but it has the look of the Wild West when you drive through the dusty main street. The cattle and donkeys graze (on what I don’t have the faintest clue for it all looks like sand to me) alongside the main street. When they decide to cross the four-lane highway, it is a nerve-wracking time. The lead steer pokes his head into the road and stops. It then becomes a test of his will against the onslaught of taxis, police vehicles, walkers and me. If the steer has enough nerve he’ll step out and his mates will follow. The traffic will come to a halt until they all (maybe 20 at a time) cross. Then the mad flow of cars resumes.

When I left the new Namibian office for which I was responsible (the old one was a tin shed with no air conditioning and a backed up toilet that was an awesome thing to behold) I met a tall black man climbing the stairs. He had the most beautiful pink, broad-brimmed Easter bonnet on. What better way to keep the sun off. “Nice hat,” I told him and he beamed at me.

I find the suffocating increase in the temperature in the North to be quite debilitating. Oswald tells me we are in hell. “When we die up here,” he says with a chuckle, “We must go to heaven because we are already in hell.”

Everything takes much longer to accomplish. There is a huge social element involved in any conversation. Don’t even think that you can cut to the chase and get an answer quickly. Much time must be spent in seemingly aimless chatter – mostly about the heat, the drought, the family, the state of town traffic. Only then, it seems, can a circuitous question be asked of a town official. And it always seems to be asked in a quite obsequious way rather than respectfully but directly. These are the cultural ribbons around which the society revolves.

I met with another Nigerian doctor yesterday who was a breath of fresh air. He was so smart, and so aware of the corruption around him among doctors and patients. He told me he knows most doctors are paid by the government by the number of patients they see. So they spend much of their day doctoring the books to show they have met with 260-300 patients so they can be well paid. I said it must be difficult to remain honest in such a setting. But he told me he has no difficulty.

“I believe in treating not only the man but the metaphysical being,” he said. “I am a Christian (he had pictures of the Pope everywhere) and I believe in giving both physical support as well as moral support.”

Later in the day, a funeral director came into the office and I spent time chatting with him while Oswald was trying to get his phone connection to work. The funeral director, who had no front teeth, told me there are 40 other funeral establishments in the neighborhood because business is so good. He buries about 45-50 people each month.

Average funeral costs N$15,000 (US$2,500). It includes embalming, coffin, flowers and the burial.

I asked how he protects himself and his staff from HIV/AIDS when embalming. He furled his brow and said it is a big, big worry. They all wear gloves and masks and a plastic suit, he said.

He then went on to tell me his clients usually buy a death policy and pay N$80 a month to cover their funeral expenses. I asked if I signed up with him today and paid my $80 and then died in a couple of weeks if I could get a N$15,000 funeral. “Oh, no,” he said. “You must stay alive for six months.” I asked what if I kill myself (they are monumental numbers of suicides in the North). “You must stay alive for a year and a half before killing yourself or we will not pay,” he said. And what about if I get AIDS? I asked. “Ah. You must stay alive for three years before we will cover your funeral expenses,” he said.

We are working as I writing a story as I write this about a leopard that just killed one man and injured two other men this week in Oshivielo. It is difficult to get the details because of the remoteness. But it is my favorite story of the day from the North.


New Namibian pictures are at:

http://photos.yahoo.com/robertsmellis

Sailing story at:

http://www.sailnet.com/collections/articles/index.cfm?articleid=ouread0018
 

 

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