Chronicles of Fly

When i left namibia for france in july 2010 i was anxious but not afraid. in my mind i knew that this great adventure that i had undertaken was goin to change things for the better, and i would get to learn french "women love dudes that speak french, makes them go dizzy". When me and my partner in crime arrived (identity withheld), we were given a proper namibian welcome that made home feel a little closer. The namibian crew that was already there had finished their stay and gave us the lay of the land. My boys rudolf and Abisai gave a few insights on the french ladies, apparently the more strange you look the more attrative you are to white women. they called it the first law of attraction, with my dreadlocks i had killed two birds with one small stone.I got a few style and gadget tips from Nerago, she suggested my new alias Filemon_Fly (maybe i should name a daughter after her?). but the most profound piece of advice came from from Ndapewa Shipopyeni, who is so full of wi

I usually begin with some philosophical material laced with a joke or two to break the ice, and then I tie my introduction to the main theme of my article so the reader can connect the two before I deliver the sermon/make a bit of sense. But since its #Nam December (new name for festive season) and most of you have weddings to crash, ceremonies to attend and generally things to do, I will just get straight to the point.  I have four sisters, three belong to number 1 and one to number2 (Confused then read this one first (click, then read) ). I call them the awesome four, personalities and moods swings that would make a plot of a martin Lawrence comedy. These girls have made my holiday interesting; shall we name them and shame them then? Okay, you ready?, set, let’s go.  I will use code names to avoid getting killed with a cooking spoon or a pair of heels. The oldest is P (as in the letter P, pronounced P-eeh), if her height is not intimidating enough her no nonsense approach will

I’m on holiday, did I hear someone say “you lucky bugger!” Well yes I am. Most of my friends have to work over the holidays so they only get 3 to 4 days of over Christmas, and most them envy me. They also want to wake up after 8 AM and clean their mom’s fridge out. Well that was how my holiday was supposed to pan out, but those weird individuals called parents don’t have the same view. When they hear the word “holiday”, they start imagining all sorts of time consuming, energy sapping chores for the extra pair of hands home from Varsity. Sometimes I think they even have meetings to make sure that while there is extra help around the house, it is imperative to maximise and exploit it (okay maybe I’m going overboard, but yaa’ll know what I mean). So my holiday has turned into a working holiday, now I’m not being a sissy but I was not built for manual labour, my body is just one of those that do not respond well to physical exertion. 20 minutes of shovelling dirt and my hands turn

So I have been conspicuously absent from this blog (some of us have things to do!), but you better not utter a sound otherwise I will pull a Kaunapawa on you! Not since the days that Archie Moroka was still on generations have I witnessed such drama. It confirms what we already know that although white man are viewed by women as being more romantic and sincere as opposed to us (genital blessed) black men, they are still the biggest sissies on this earth. Warning to Namibian women; Please stop using witchcraft on white man that shit only works on black men, have yaa’ll never heard of Black on Black. I am sure Mr Crowley took one look at her rear end and he could not help himself (she’s got a pretty visage too and that Brazilian hair!). But I will stop milking this story like Trevor Noah telling a Julius Malema joke and move to other interesting happenings. The pretty woman who redefined BEE Speaking of Julius Malema, we have had strange cases in Namibia. Like Paulus Kapia gett

Have you ever had a really bad day? I had many of them at UNAM. Your field report is not finished but the deadline is fast creeping up on you like a ngandjera washe!   You rush quickly to the printers and they are out of ink, and then you think to yourself “what is the worst thing that could happen?”. And before that thought has vanished, your memory stick starts acting funny, then the document won’t open, and then the printer runs out of paper. The end result is your report is late, sub-standard and is printed on funny looking paper.  Have you ever noticed that the more negatively you think and the more pessimistic you are, the more negative the outcome of whatever you are doing? Well things would not be so bad if you were not tempting fate and poking fun at Murphy’s law with statement such as “things can’t get any worse or what’s the worst that could happen”. What my point? Well what I’m trying to say is that negative thinking is really a drag, it’s basically shooting yours

So 98% of Namibia’s teachers are not literate in the English language, why the surprised faces? This is something that has been known for a long time. But in typical Namibian fashion it sparked frenzy, Newspapers were bombarded with letters and texts, facebook lit up like a Christmas tree and Twitter was inundated (add to your vocabulary and look it up)with tweets poking fun at Namibian teachers poor level of English. The fiasco went as far as taxi drivers hurling unkind comments at teachers (trust taxi drivers to rub salt in fresh wounds). Man of the moment Hon. Abraham Iiyambo (no relation, unfortunately), stepped up to the plate as he has done all year to explain that these tests were not meant to fail the teachers but to attain accurate data on their level of English, so as to necessitate their placing in additional English training programs (are you still with me or should I repeat slowly?).  The bravest man in the Namibian government So many fingers are being pointe

I am an honest man; the truth is I ran out of ideas, so I decided to write whatever comes to mind, so they will be no cohesion what so ever in this article, most of it won’t even make sense. I sure hope Conrad Murray does not got to regular prison, because now that he is the guy who killed MJ; I can just imagine the things they are going to do to him in there, don’t drop the soap!.   I doubt if anybody will read this blog, now that everyone is busy with exams. But my statistics will disagree with me, because I know full well how procrastination kicks in during exams.   I still remember those long days and nights spent slaving away to pass my modules on an empty stomach, but somehow I still managed to commit academic genocide. Normally I’m harmless, but with a pen and a calculator I make lecturers tremble. But that was a long time ago, way back in the struggle.  People naturally assume that people like me who speak in sarcasm use it as a screen to hide the fact that we are s