Yet, when given the chance to make their voices heard, Namibians often find more entertaining distractions. I once lived with this grand family in Namibia. This family was unique, not because of their diverse range of unusual characters but because they had a tradition of complaining about everything under the scorching Kalahari Desert sun.
From the lack of rain to the pesky mosquitoes that seemed to be conniving with the government, there was always something to whine about. The most vocal member of this family was a character we’ll call Little Joe. Little Joe had a knack for getting upset about how the rich uncles and aunties would always make decisions without consulting him.
He felt excluded, marginalised and as useful as a solar panel in a thunderstorm. Every time there was a big decision to be made, be it the contributions towards family weddings or funerals or something else entirely, Little Joe was nowhere to be found. He’d say “it’s not fair! I never get to have a say in anything!” But when decisions were made, Joe was the first to find a corner to hide in, like a lizard avoiding the midday sun.
One day, the family had a revelation. “Let’s include Little Joe in our important meetings,” they said. After all, they thought, Joe was now grown up and even had a job, even though it was a questionable one involving dubious pyramid schemes.
So, they decided to invite him to the next big family meeting to decide on who gets to decide for the family. The day of.
