Random sparks of thought

Back when i was a student

Recently while I was reading the greatest selling book of all time, I had a brainwave. I am afraid that I have to shock those of you who thought I was refering to the harry potter series, because I was actually reading the one book that rules them all, the holy bible. The bible is actually an interesting reservoir of wisdom and knowledge, if you take the time to read it. You will find thought provoking scriptures like John 3:16  “For god so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, so that all that believe in him shall not perish but have everlasting life”. Before we get all technical, let’s just interpret this as Jesus taking the bullet that was meant for us, he was sacrificed so that we could be saved, so that we could have a future.

Continuing with protecting the survival of the future, let’s move the spotlight to our own forefathers. The colossal men who paved the way for the warriors that would deliver Namibia its freedom. Great men such Hendrik Witbooi, Samuel Maharero, Iipumbu ya Tshilongo, Mandume Ndemufayo gave up their freedom, their possession and their lives. They inspired the great fathers of today the likes of Andimba Toivo ya Toivo and Sam Nujoma. What they did for our generation can be compared to what Jesus did for all Christians (this is the part where I get raked over the coals for bordering on blasphemy, chill your guava, I am making my point). The Generations that preceded my generation all gave up something, so that the current generation can have what they did not have, freedom! Like HHP says “I can go anywhere I like without having to show you my pass, because of you I don’t have to call no one a bas!”. The fact that you have a job, you are getting/have an education and are free to criticize the government without getting your ass handed to you is down to the fact that someone gave up their life to secure you that freedom.

Which leads me to my point, a lot of times I find myself disillusioned with my career. I find myself wondering if Jakob Marenga died so that I can become a geologist, because as we have already established I am a better writer than I am a geologist, and that is saying a lot because I am a heck of a geologist (excuse the ego). I find the little voices inside my head asking me “why did you become a geologist? Other than because you couldn’t make it into engineering”.  Why did I want to become an engineer in the first place? Probably because that was all the rage back when I was in high school. The government stressed that Namibia would need engineers and doctors to achieve its developmental goals, a message that teachers took to heart and made it their prerogative to ensure that kids excelled in math’s and science. All those who excelled were gently convinced to consider medicine and engineering as courses of study after high school, usually at the expense of that particular individual’s dream career. After all what could you possibly aspire to do as an artist or a writer, those careers don’t make any money, they are hobbies not careers, as I was told once.

To stop short of complaining, I will say that I have no problems being a geologist; it pays for my comfortable apartment and jelly babies amongst other things. It allows me to make the kind of figures that make a cushy lifestyle a possibility for me, I can pay my nieces and nephews school fees because of the living I make from my skills as a geologist. But that does make up for the fact that I am good at my job because of my dedication, not because of my passion for it, which flickered briefly when I was a tutor to my juniors and disappeared after varsity. I do have a passion for writing though, I can write a blog post in five minutes while waiting for something to get fixed, I don’t need to try at all because I am a natural. It has now dawned on me that somewhere between getting A’s for math’s and physics and racking up merit awards in high school, I missed my calling. It got lost in translation somewhere, an A+ in English just is not as impressive an A in mathematics (there I go sounding all bitter). But still, no one forced me to register in the science faculty at varsity, but I can’t help but think that if there was an award winning Namibian writer of my time I probably would have strolled across to the arts department next door to the geology department and majored in English literature with a minor in journalism.

Before any of you point fingers at me, explain to me why most of you are cheating on your careers with your passions. Huh! Explain to me why most young professionals my age have side gigs as musicians, fashion designers, caterers, bakers and even cookware sales people, please don’t dare attempt to pass boredom off as an excuse (I could mention names, but I left that in 2012). It’s not hard to figure out that we have a generation of young people who gave up their passions to study disciplines that guarantee a higher pay cheque but not peace of mind and enjoyment. Some of course resort to drinking and liaising with loose individuals to fill the void, in that particular case instead of enjoying your youth, you are actually fucking it away. I feel slightly deceived and wish I had career guidance in school. Who told the minister of education that every brilliant kid wants to be a scientist and needs a varsity education, what if I just want to be a plumber? A plumber doesn’t need to know calculus (Takes deep breath, attempts to calm self down).

This is the part where I do something unpredictable, I have complained, now I will try to be all philosophical and shit. Dr Helena Ndume, left Namibia for exile and dreamed of becoming a fashion designer. Minister of Defence citizen Nahas Angula told her that her dream was slightly rubbish and that an independent Namibia would need Medical doctors, she was crushed and the only thing that stopped her from back chatting was her respect for her elders. She became the miracle doctor, removing cataracts and fueling the legend of a woman with hands that can make the blind see. What you don’t know is that most of her patients are elderly, grandfathers and grandmothers. Who can now see, and take proper care of grandchildren that their own children drop off at home after obviously not thinking straight and forgetting to read the instructions on the condom packet (you put it on before sex, just in case yaa’ll didn’t know that). Dr Ndume sacrificed her dream, the result is that the generation that will follow the born free generation that will follow my generation, at least have father and/or mother figures at home to teach them right from wrong and to keep an eye on them.

Which brings me back to my situation, the dilemma facing my generation. All the previous generations made sacrifices, Steve Biko and Immanuel Shifidi died while making theirs. Their legacies live on long after they have been gone, they could have chosen to be singers but decided to stand up for something. South African blogger and author of “in my arrogant opinion” Khayalethu Dlanga states that individuals who serve a cause far greater than themselves often live more fulfilled lives. So for my generation if it means that we need to be doctors, engineers, geologists and lawyers, so that the next generations can be singers, actors, fashion designer and musicians. Then so be it, after all it is the doctors, engineers, geologists and lawyers who buy designer clothes, purchase music albums, go to theatre play and watch movies. It seems crazy, but our country requires us to make our contribution as professionals, economic warriors and responsible adults, brothers and sisters that pay their siblings school fees and help their parents. The writing, singing, designing and dancing can be done on the weekend, if we can stay away from the coolbox for long enough.

However if one day, you hear that Fly quit his job and is now studying English literature while looking for publishers for his novels then don’t be so surprised, I wouldn’t put it past myself. After all I am the weirdo in my family.

Looking for gold