Multiculturalism in a Namibian township
(written for the Peace Boat website, Jan 17, 2013 >>)
"I have 627 children" says Bertha Kadhila, principal of Hanganeni
Primary School. She feels a motherly responsibility for each of them,
spending a part of her own salary on improving their living conditions.
Bertha Kadhila has her eyes everywhere. The strong woman stands in the
middle of a dusty school yard in the Namibian township of Mondesa in an
immaculate white blazer, multitasking by posing for photos with Peace
Boat visitors, giving an interview and sharing advice and motherly hugs
with the children who tug on her sleeves. While explaining the education
policies of Namibia, she stops two school girls rushing by. "Johanna,
Alina, please show the classrooms to our visitors." Guided by Peace
Boat's partner organisation Hata Angu Cultural Tours, 46 participants
visited the small township on the outskirts of Svakopmund to learn about
the coexistence of different ethnicities and the legacy of apartheid
and colonialism. Namibia gained independence only very recently in 1990,
after having been a German imperial protectorate from 1884 until the
end of World War I and a South African colony until 1990. "Before
independence white people never came to the townships. We want to change
that" explains tour guide Castro Shangombe, who lives in the settlement
and has taken evening classes in tourism. Raymond Inixab, a Damara, and
his wife Michelle Lewis founded Hatu Angu ("Let's get to know each
other") in 2001. A part of the profit goes to the institutions and
individuals visited as well as to community projects
The school outside of Svakopmund in Namibia receives nearly daily visits
of tourists and non-governmental organisations. This provides it with
some money to maintain its facilities.
Raised in a poor family in Mondesa herself, Bertha Kadhila is passionate
about improving the future of "her" children as she calls them. The
principal of Hanganeni Primary School acts as manager and mother,
teacher and fundraiser, spokesperson and tourist guide. Her dedication
and her skills in multitasking seem to keep it all together - a school
with only 19 teachers for 627 children from vulnerable backgrounds. Many
of them live in provisional huts without any electricity or water
access in the so called "reception area" outside the township known as
DRC (Democratic Resettlement Community). Many have parents who are
without work and struggling to care for them. A significant number have
no parents at all, lost to the HIV/ AIDS epidemic which Namibia is
suffering from. "94 new learners haven't shown up yet, although we are
two weeks into the school year" she says as to remind herself. "I
urgently have to speak to their parents. And I need to find sponsors to
buy school equipment and maintain our facilities."
"Yummy, a worm!" Most in-port programme participants tried the
specialities of the Ovambo ethnicity at the local shebeen (pub) "Back of
the Moon" - mopane worms as well as mahango (millet), ekaka (wild
spinach) and omaluvu (traditional African sorgam beer).
Since the beginning of 2013, the Namibian government has provided free
education to all students, finally implementing a law which was already
passed in 1990. "Now more parents can send their children to school"
Bertha Kadhila says. According to her, 90 per cent of all the children
in Mondesa currently attend school, 60 per cent of those who finish
primary school continue with secondary school and 45 per cent of those
who pass their final exam there, start university. But whereas the
government waives the school fees and provides stationary and maize
plants for meals, Namibian schools are left with providing equipment,
maintenance, cooks and school uniforms for poor students. What is no
problem for private schools in Svakopmund, but is indeed a challenge for
Mondesa. Bertha Kadhila receives donations from NGOs, fishing companies
and individual visitors and pays two cooks from her own salary.
"Hanganeni", the name of the school, means "Let's unite!". 'Everything
is possible' is the message Bertha Kadhila tries to spread, if only we
stand together. "My children speak Damara, Obambo, Herero and Afrikaans,
but we can understand each others languages" she says. "Ethnicity
doesn't play a role."
Agoste, a medicine woman of the Nama ethnicity, welcomed participants in
her house, showing them herbs against illnesses and for good luck.
When driving along Mondesa's large sand roads in mini buses, tour guide
Castro Shinbundo points at a colourful wooden shacks. "Those houses have
only one bedroom" he says. "In 1960, the colonial administration gave
them to the Ovambo, while Damara families received two bedrooms and
Herero three. These injustices were supposed to stir jealousy, so that
the groups would not unite to fight against the colonizers." But the
twelve different ethnicities that have been coexisting in Namibia for
centuries did not let government policies come between them. Castro
Shinbundo himself is a mixture of Damara, Shinbundo from neighbouring
Angola and Herero. He taught participants greetings for their visits at
Nama, Damara, Herero and Ovambo houses ("Inai-tses! Matisa! Kore-e!
Ongeni!") as well as the different click sounds. "Be careful" he says,
laughing. "Depending on how you stress the clicks, 'nam' can mean
vessel, close, hug or love. You don't want to confuse that."
Oma Lina was already 65 years old, when apartheid in Namibia finally
ended in 1990. As a Damara chief she judges on domestic and community
issues.
Like many Herero women, Thalida dreams of becoming a first wife. "A
first wife doesn't have to do anything, while the second one takes care
of the children and the third one does the cleaning", she explains to
Peace Boat participants who are visiting her in her garden. Herero is
the only ethnicity which allows polygamy in Namibia, but according to
Thalida the number of wives per man has reduced to "only" four in recent
years due to HIV/ AIDS. "There are hardly any conflicts between the
wives, because the first one chooses the other wives, not the man" she
says, visibly enjoying the surprised faces of the participants. "But the
husband invents excuses, when he is visiting the other ladies." Not far
from Thalida's house, the Nama woman Agoste lives in a poor shack. As a
young woman she has been chosen and trained to become a medicine woman,
but the number of her clients decline as young people increasingly
consult Western doctors. "This is Xunru, it cures throat infections" she
says, handing around a glass with brown seeds she has collected in the
surrounding steppe. There is Xucha to revive the appetite of the sick,
Xarab against chest pain, there are herbs against stress, to increase
breast milk, for good luck and as an aphrodisiac. Namibians have the
same choice between traditional and modern methods when it comes to
jurisdiction. With minor domestic or committee issues like violence or
inheritance they can either address a judge or a tribal committee. The
latter usually meets at Oma ("grandmom") Lina's place. As a chief of the
local Damara group, the fragile 87-year-old is an influential woman.
"Once we have decided about an issue, it has to be accepted and cannot
be dealt with in court again."
The local boyband "Vocal Galere" performed for Peace Boat participants
Driving back to Walvis Bay along the oldest dunes of the world, the
Peace Boat group passes golf courses and a holiday resort "for people
who are so rich that the money must fall out of their mouth" as Castro
Shinbundo puts it. He remembers the time when international paparazzi
beleaguered the resort, because the actress Angelina Jolie had her first
biological baby there. "Unfortunately the journalists have never made
their way to Mondesa." Although some black and coloured Namibians have
risen into middle class due to the Black Economic Empowerment programme
after apartheid, most continue to live in the townships. But unlike
South Africans who are struggling for the redistribution of land (maybe
you could put a link to the Cape Town PoC article here - thanks!),
hardly any inhabitant of Mondesa considers moving to Svakopmund. "Our
township is far more lively and the social cohesion is better" Castro
Shangombe explains. In the afternoon, the students of Hanganeni Primary
School walk in all directions - towards the provisional huts of the
resettlement area and towards the wooden buildings of Mondesa.
Impossible to tell who is a Damara, a Herero or an Ovambo. Impossible
also to tell whose house has one, two or three bedrooms. Their uniforms
can be seen far through the dust of the streets, points of grey and red
and blue, jumping and running.