Truth Has No Allegiance

Let me ask you plainly, without politeness and without fear.

Which of the present-day vices happening around you have you stood up against? Or are you just another Namibian who shakes their head, says “eish” or “haai man”, then goes back to business as usual?

Was there ever a time when sin did not exist? Or did we simply learn how to dress it better, hide it behind offices, tenders, churches, and struggle credentials?

Today, we claim to be educated, informed, liberated. Yet we conduct our “research” from books, archives, and systems edited by the same people who brutalised our ancestors. Then we fight each other over whose version of history is correct, depending on political party, tribe, church, or which struggle hero we worship.

Truth in Namibia has become conditional.

If it protects your position, it is truth.

If it threatens your benefits, suddenly it is “disrespectful”, “divisive”, or “unpatriotic”.

Have you ever considered self-revelation?

Not through pastors.

Not through politicians.

Not through NGOs and donor language.

Just you and your Creator.

That is where real spirituality begins, not in uniforms, titles, or loud Sunday services.

We Look Like the People Who Once Owned Us

Let us stop pretending. Many of our people have become cold, greedy, and indifferent. We have taken on the character of our former oppressors, only now we oppress each other.

The hunger for tenders, positions, brown envelopes, luxury cars, and elite status has turned us into loyal foot soldiers of a system that keeps us mentally enslaved. We shout “independence” but think like subjects.

Look at our society.

Gender-based violence everywhere.

Children trafficked and abused.

Rape cases withdrawn or forgotten.

Murder explained away as “passion”.

And what happens?

Nothing.

Commissions are formed.

Statements are issued.

People move on.

Eish. That is not normal. That is sickness.

Church, Colonisation, and Convenient Amnesia

For years, I have asked uncomfortable questions, especially about religion. How did Namibians, whose ancestors were brutalised, dispossessed, and dehumanised, become so deeply loyal to institutions that arrived with colonisers?

As someone who studied history and later researched genealogy and ancestral systems, the dots became impossible to ignore. The Catholic Church, Vatican City, the Portuguese, the Spaniards, and later European powers were not neutral players. They were deeply involved in conquest, forced conversions, land theft, and human trafficking.

Yet in Namibia, we defend these institutions more aggressively than we defend victims of abuse. When scandals surface, especially sexual abuse in churches, we act shocked, as if violence was not part of the original design.

People say, “Do not question the church.”

But why was questioning never forbidden when our ancestors were whipped, renamed, and erased?

Silence has become our religion.

We Are Killing Each Other Softly

In Namibia, we love peace slogans and unity speeches. But behind closed doors, greed rules. Tribalism whispers. Power intoxicates. We protect perpetrators because they are comrades, cousins, or church elders.

We condemn colonial violence loudly, yet practise the same violence quietly. Land remains concentrated. Youth remain unemployed. Women remain unsafe. The poor remain invisible.

And those who speak?

They are called troublemakers.

They are told to “respect the elders”.

They are warned to stay in line.

Sharp sharp. Fall in or fall out.

Africa Begins With Us, Not Speeches

We must speak. Not selectively. Not safely. But truthfully.

The more truth we speak, the more our mindset shifts. Slowly, painfully, but genuinely. Healing does not begin with policies. It begins with honesty.

Until Namibians learn to love one another beyond slogans and hashtags, until selflessness becomes both our inner character and our outer behaviour, Namibia, like much of Africa, will remain spiritually and socially stunted.

Not because we lack resources.

Not because we are cursed.

But because we refuse to confront ourselves.

So ask yourself, alone, without an audience.

Are you truly awake?

Or are you just comfortable?

It is well with us, only when truth matters more than comfort.