Prophecy of the Born-Frees

Prophecy of the Born-Frees

Andrew Kathindi

One day, there is going to only be a generation of voters who have not witnessed the heroics of SWAPO during the liberation struggle. They won’t have lived through an era when the current ministers and politicians were merely commanders and war leaders solely motivated by a unified desire to see their country liberated from oppressors. This new generation will judge and thus vote purely based on what they have seen from their leaders from 1990 onwards.

I say all that because I think people need to realise that there is currently another generation alive that lived through all that. Our grandmas and grandpas in the north lived through the war, they witnessed the bloodshed, they picked up arms with SWAPO who rallied them. And even though times were bitter, there was a genuine cause to not only fight for, but unite a people. To them, SWAPO were like the Avengers; superheroes who swept in to save the day when an alien invasion almost obliterated everything. And it doesn’t matter what those same heroes do after that, loyalty has been permanently burnt onto their hearts like an imprint.

Maybe it’s something to do with age; maybe it’s the factor of actually living through that time, singing the songs, living through liberation, but whatever the case, nothing will ever change for them. They might mumble amongst themselves a little about their discontentment, displeasure about water facilities, health care or the pension funds, but even just the thought of voting for a different political party is not only gross sin to them; it is blasphemy of the highest order.

And faithfully vote they will. In their homes they sing songs about exile and crushing the enemy and in the booth they’ll check the same box over and over. People say the elections get rigged or this and that, but honestly, voters like this just exist in great numbers. And for as long as victory is as good as guaranteed in every election for the ruling party, the probability of slacking becomes ever higher. And this is about a good number of politicians whose minds have already been swayed by the lure of wealth.

But as much as we love and respect them, these loyal, war surviving voters won’t be around forever. There’s going to arise a time when recollection of exile will only be found in the annals of history because no one alive will have lived it. No single person will be eligible for a veteran’s cheque because there won’t be a single veteran left. This isn’t a dystopia I’m painting, it’s simply reality. It’s going to happen, and in that time, if SWAPO is still in charge, rallying people up with songs about getting the country back isn’t going to cut it because..err..we have it now. They’d have to actually do stuff to keep voters, and the bare minimum isn’t going to work. They’d have to raise the quality of education, health, not stuff their pockets while neglecting the poor, you know, generic things like that.

Her film review

Her...
AKA The Adventures of Going to Second Base with Siri

Of the Best Picture nominated films this year, outside of 12 Years A Slave and Gravity, which eventually went on to be the big winners at this year's Oscars, Her was the movie I had most anticipated to watch after so much hype.

According to some of my friends, (Muso-cough cough), this one stays with you for days on end, completely wrapped in the after effect of its touch. Yeeeeah, it won't. I'm not going to pretend like I've seen a ton of Spike Jonze's stuff. He mainly does short films, and I still need to watch Adaptation with Nicholas Cage, but this man...this was just super weird.

I get what he was trying to go for...a timeless love story in a fish out of water theme. I get it...it just didn't work. A loner separated from the wife of his youth finds comfort in the most unlikely of places, his newly purchased A.I. with whom he soon starts a romantic relationship.

They failed to convey the idea that this was okay and normal without me feeling like....wtf am I watching? This film is riddled with awkward moments, which to some extent was the point, but when you consider the fact that it's a guy doing it with an A.I. in a smartphone or whatever, albeit Scarlett Johansen, in essence, you're still just left watching some guy jack off. And then there's that weird sex scene with Samantha's surrogate body, Catherine...I mean the whole thing was just a mess as far as consummating the relationship went...which I get, it's a human and a freaken disembodied A.I., but the chemistry between the Black Widow...wait, wrong sci-fi movie...err, Samantha and Theodore really felt forced...it was worse than Clark and Lois' kiss at the end of Man of Steel...

They were giving each other compliments that exposed lack of ease and familiarity all throughout the relationship. "You're really smart," Theo would say..."Awww...thank you," Samantha would reply. That's friendzone talk! That's the type of reply I got from the crush I got friendzoned by.

Take, Spielberg's Artificial Intelligence for example. It was pretty much the same story, albeit the other way round, a robot trying to find love in a human...this time a maternal love. Despite all of that film's other faults, however, you were invested in that narrative. You felt for young David's painful desire to become a real boy. Even till "the end of the world." When Samantha got up to join all the other A.I. to go to...God knows where....the Matrix upload program????...when they left, I just shrugged like, Oh well, guess she's gone.

All in all, it was a decent film...certainly not one I'd watch again in a while, but better than Nebraska so...I guess...that's...not saying a lot. All that said however, I thought Joaquin Phoenix did a great job in his role, and to some extent, you felt for him having to divorce the wife he loved, but Spike should have spent more time exploring that rather than giving us something out of tamed Japanese pervert's mind...



One way to look at it is that it is showing where society is heading in our dependency on the digital, but you know what, it's still supposed to be a love story.


A plus for the movie was the great female casting. Scarlett Johansen, Amy Adams, Olivia Wilde, Rooney Mara...??? Yes please.

Kevin and Seline

Kevin and Seline

By Andrew SevenSeven

The following is a work of fiction, any similarity to an actual event is purely coincidental

The following first appeared in the Villager newspaper.

Simon Beukes and Felicia Coetzee sat on the green grass of Zoo Park. There were several scattered juice bottles his son, Kevin and Felicia’s daughter, Seline had emptied. Currently the two were off playing on the swings just some meters from Simon and Felicia, but that didn’t stop him from sneaking a periodic peek at them every several seconds.

     “They grow up so fast don’t they,” said Felicia with a laugh.

     Simon only nodded and looked on quietly. He was trying to decipher what he actually felt for Felicia. Having recently moved in next to him, the two have been since getting closer since Simon found out she was also a single parent and even more so since their children started really enjoying playing with each other. And since then, Simon was sure there have definitely been some romantic innuendos made, but he was still not sure what would develop. He didn’t even know what she did for a living. Not far from them, four year old Seline’s swing swung a little too high causing her to fall off it with a plop! Simon was about to get up and help her, but Kevin, only two years older than Seline jumped off his swing, faster than light and picked her up gingerly. Seline was going to cry but Simon’s swift act pacified her. Kevin brushed off the dirt from her legs and got her back up the swing.

     “Awwww,” said Felicia. “How cute.”

     Simon sat back down and was delightedly surprised when Felicia rested her head softly on his shoulder. He smiled, realising that he had been way too worried about nothing. He would let things develop naturally. Whatever will happen, will happen, he thought.

***

Thirteen years passed, and not far from where the park was was a high school. A clamour permeated the entire school street like the Friday it was as a throng of students filed out of the school gate, talking about all the exciting things they had planned for the weekend. But for two students over by the rugby field, it did not seem like the final school day of the week. Away from the pitch, a tall boy leaned on a rock while a girl of a close age sat just down below him.

     “So do you know when you’re moving?” the boy asked, not looking at the girl.

     “I already told you, Kevin, we only have a week left,” Seline replied irritably.

     “Where are you moving to? I’ll come visit you every day,” Kevin said. This time he bent forward to look at her face.

     Seline did not want to answer. She and her mother were moving from a good suburb to somewhere in Okuryangava -Kevin would not understand. She had lived in Academia pretty much all her life and this was tough on her without Kevin being judgemental. Deep down, she knew he wouldn’t be that, but she did not want to risk it. “I already told you, I don’t know,” she lied.

     “Well, you know I’m like my dad, so I will do everything to find you,” Kevin joked.

     Seline’s nose folded like bad odour had offended it. She did not want to hear anything about that man. She would never forgive him for what he had done to her mother. He was partially the reason they were moving away, and mostly the reason she had been so confused for so long. Liking a boy who was virtually her brother because their parents were engaged left her mind a muddle, and it was even more confusing because she knew Kevin felt the same way she did. She wished he was nothing like his father. Irritated, Seline got up, flung her bag over her shoulder and began to walk away. “See you on Monday, Kevin,” she said, glancing back, knowing very well that that was indeed the last time she would see him.

***

Fourteen years passed. The spirit of the city remained, for the most part, the same, bar several multi-storey buildings sprinkled across the capital. The exponential growth of the mining industry on a global scale profited Windhoek, leading it to bulge into an aspiring metropolis. In the dead of a cold Friday night, a 33 year old man stood on a tall, newly built bridge overlooking the most industrious part of the city. Having recently broken up with his eighth girlfriend this year, he needed a break from it all. The buzz of town would distract most people from contemplation, but for some reason, Kevin found it relaxing. He scratched his thick beard, trying to think of why his relationships haven't gone anywhere. ‘You don’t really love me, Kevin. Maybe you think you do, but your heart is not with me. It’s lost somewhere out there,’ Marynsia had said. What did that even mean? He tried all he could to love her. What more could he do? But somewhere in the depth of his soul, he knew she was somehow right. It just did not feel quite...right. Not with Marynsia or Eveline or Helena or any of the countless others before them. He walked back to his car, parked not too far from the bridge and began to drive around the city, without trajectory. As he turned left off Independence Avenue, he hit the clutch and shifted to second, third and fourth gear in quick succession hoping a little speed thrill would help him forget. But as he did, he caught a glimpse of...something. A ghost...from his past. He slammed the break and was immediately relieved there was no other vehicle behind him, and even more so, a traffic cop, considering he had downed a few beers earlier that night.

     The only other person in the street was a slim, tall woman wearing a short skirt, heels and a long leather coat. She noticed the car stop and cautiously walked over to it.

     “Hey, player. Your lady not satisfying you right? Wanna have real fun tonight?” said the prostitute when Kevin rolled down his window.

     Kevin looked deeply at her. “Get in the car,” he nodded at the front seat and looked up at the road.

     “You’ll have to pay me now, darling,” the woman said, folding her arms on the window of the car.

     “What’s your charge?”

     “N$800 for half an hour,” the woman replied.

     Kevin dug into his back pockets for his wallet and pulled out every dollar note that was there and handed it to her. She looked at him suspiciously, then buried the money under her bra and got in the car.

     They rode around silently for about 10 minutes before Kevin spoke again. “You really can’t tell who I am?”

     Slightly taken aback, the prostitute leaned back and tried to look at him properly. “You do look a bit familiar. Have I seen you before?”

     “It’s me, Seline. It’s Kevin.” He slowed down the car and pulled off the road.

     Seline looked at him for an eon, it seemed to Kevin, before she uttered a word. “What are you doing here, Kevin? Why are you doing this?”

     Kevin smiled. Even though he always saw himself as Seline’s protector, right back to their toddler years when they first met, Seline has always been protective of him. She always wanted the best for him, even if it meant the opposite for her. “I should be asking you that. This is below you.”

     “Don’t judge me, Kevin,” said Seline, sounding less protective of him than she did seconds ago. “That’s the last thing I need from you, with your expensive car and family. After all, weren’t you just about to sleep with a prostitute?”

     “Fine, but for the record, I wasn’t going to sleep with you. I only stopped because I recognised you,” Kevin vindicated himself. “And I have no family.” He paused. “Why did you go away, Seline. Without a word, you just left.”

     “You want to know the whole truth?”

     “Yes. I haven’t been able to move on. I see you in every girl I end up dating. I want closure,” said Kevin irritably.

     “Fine. I’ll tell you everything.” Seline swallowed and began to narrate. “Our parents were dating, but your father did not know in order to make a living, my mother had to sell her body on the streets. They broke up when he found out, he was so angry...he beat her. During that time, she had been diagnosed with cancer and that whole trauma caused a setback in her recovery. She couldn’t go back on the streets anymore, meaning we had to move out of Academia. We found a small place in Okuryangava but she eventually died.” Seline paused. She told the story without emotion in her voice, like she had recited it a thousand times, but a streak of tears leaked from her eyes. “I had no one to take care of me really, so I had to leave school. Things were difficult, but in order to survive I had to do the only thing I knew. I had to go on the streets...and here I am.”

     Kevin did not know what to say, he did not know what to feel. Only that he was sure more than ever he loved Seline; more than anything in his life. “I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry. I have a job opening at my company, it’s yours if you want it.”

     “You don’t owe me anything, Kevin.”

     “I know I don’t. But I also know you don’t want to do this a day more. I can see it in your eyes. Let me make up for my father’s errors. Don’t push me away, Seline. Let me help,” Kevin pleaded with her.

     Seline smiled and nodded, and more tears dropped from her eyes. Kevin smiled as well as he pulled back onto the road. He wasn’t going to rush anything, but he was going to make sure he married this girl. He wasn’t going to let her go ever again.

Movie Review: Ride Along.

Ride Along-movie review
Expecting to die laughing from this movie? Rookie mistake.

There was an era when low budget, black action comedy was thriving. Films like All About the Benjamins, Big Mamma and Friday were an excuse to escape for a good hour and a half to just let down your hair...err...afro, and laugh. It was fun because you weren’t sure whether they were bout to bust a cap in yo ass, or tell a joke, which made it all the more humorous. And then Michael Bay’s Bad Boys 2 came along and changed the game.

Ride Along is a return to that era and the Cube-Hart partnership came at an opportune time. A nervous ‘Yes’ was probably the response to Ice Cube’s incessant ‘Are We There Yet?’ query to his expiring career trajectory (see what I did there?), whereas Kevin Hart is in his moment. His stand up stuff is a hit and the screen can’t get enough of him...buuut you know what, the fat lady is starting to clear her throat.

Ben Barber (Kevin Hart) is a short, fumbling, security guard/aspiring police officer who can somehow afford an HD TV and a 24 hour online gaming system. He also happens to be dating a tall hottie, the sister of a veteran bad ass cop, James Payton (Ice Cube) who is trying to bring down an elusive crime lord called Omar. Barber is desperate to impress Payton, the only family his girl has and so tags along on Payton’s shift. Before long we get 'I'm short', fumbling, let me 'explain myself' jokes. I've already seen that stuff a thousand times before with Kevin Hart...and it’s getting worrying because he’s got like 99 other projects coming up and needs to learn to diversify quick.

The story is relatable enough though. Having gone through several foster care homes with his sister, Payton wants a man who can take care of her, and Barber wants to show that he’s that man, even though he’s constantly needing Payton to bail him out when his ever yapping mouth gets him in sticky situations.

Although at times it almost felt like the Two Stooges from the hood, there are some genuinely funny moments; though most of those you saw on the trailer. The action isn’t half bad but not good either and I’ll admit, there was good chemistry between the lead actors.

There is a neat little twist at the end but I thought that Laurence Fishburne did not fit his role. It’s a bit of a surprise reveal, so I won’t say too much about it other than, it was not your typical Fishburne role, hence for me it just didn't work. Not because you can’t be diverse, but it didn't fit him.

All in all, it’s a good little film. Trust me, I expected a lot worse from the director of the worst comic book film franchise of all time. The silver lining (get it? Silver? No? Oh well..) is that after making more than quadruple its budget at the box office, the  sequel has already been announced.

My rating: 6.5/10

Wedding Bells

Wedding Bells

By Andrew SevenSeven

*first appeared in the Villager newspaper

The following is a work of fiction, any similarity to an actual event is purely coincidental.

Katrina Shikongo sat on her chair thinking about the day that loomed ahead of her. Her much younger sister, Brenda, turned lazily in her sleep on the small bed in the corner, which ended her loud snoring momentarily. Katrina pulled a comb from the drawer and began to straighten her hair. She wore a pretty, red dress, with material that accentuated the curve of her breasts, and the Brazilian weave on her head was impeccable. She looked stunning, however she did not feel it. This was going to be the worst day of her life.

     Shekupe, her toddler sister barged into the room laughing her head off and plopped loudly onto the bed. This awoke Brenda who began to wail at the sudden pull to consciousness. Shekupe began to laugh at her, which only made Brenda laugh even harder. Usually, such chaos would have made Katrina pull out her hair in frustration, but today, there were more frustrating things occupying her mind. The noise of a car slowly approaching their house made her heart begin to pace. Where they here already? She was not ready to meet them yet. She appeared ready on the outside, but she had not prepared her mind. The car drove on past the house and her anxiety levelled. A knock came at the door and a tall man entered. It was her father.

     “Are you ready?” Asked Mr. Shikongo, her father.

     Perhaps this should have served as a good moment to tell her father she no longer wanted to do this, but she only smiled and nodded and the moment was swallowed up into the endless chasm of moments she could have told him, ever since she first began to have second thoughts about this entire situation.

     “Great,” said Mr. Shikongo cheerfully. He looked down at his silver hublot watch. “They’ll be here in about 15 minutes; you can go put out the food with your mother.”

     When the covered meals were laid out on the table in the living room, Katrina heard a car pull up next to the house and her heart resumed its rapid beating. She straightened her already perfectly ironed dress and gulped. A knock at the door came and Mrs. Shikongo rushed to open the door to the guests.

     A handsome, young man walked in. David Shahepa. He had clean, kempt hair and perfectly trimmed hairline. His eyes carried a high sense of intelligence and he had the face of one that had studied abroad for several years. He smiled warmly at Mrs. Shikongo before planting a smooth kiss on her cheek and handing her a wrapped gift. Such admirable etiquette, it made Katrina question herself for questioning her feelings about David. He shook her hand and sat down with a smile.

     Behind him was his mother whose nose was wrinkled like she had smelled something foul. She tried to hide it, but Katrina could tell she was not at all impressed with their humble abode. Her toilet was probably a hundred times more extravagant than their entire home.

     Mr. Shikongo entered the living room looking slightly surprised even though Katrina knew he was the most excited person in the little house. He shook David’s parents’ hands before sitting down to commence the meeting.

     Mr. Shikongo seemed to salivate with every bit of progress made in the meeting, but as talks went ahead, his oldest daughter, Katrina, only seemed to reaffirm in her mind how much she did not love David, nor did she want to be with him. But love had nothing to do this. Not at all. She had a duty to her family. Her parents were poor and the income her father made could barely afford to keep 5 people alive, let alone pay their school fees, one of which was Katrina’s N$80 000 annually for her university charges. She was a good student, but her grades had plummeted after her mother got sick some years ago, meaning she could not get a bursary. No, she had to play her part, and her father had made sure she knew very well that marrying this guy was the right thing to do. It was her duty! It had been her duty to break up with Michael, the man she loved, as soon as David became interested, because Michael’s family did not possess the financial prowess of the Shahepas. She blinked and gave David the fakest smile she had ever given anyone as he said, “It is settled then, we shall be married by the end of the month.”

     Katrina Shikongo’s smile pulled wool over the eyes of everyone in the room, bar the person who knew her the most, and that was certainly not her fiancé, David. Her mother, Mariah Shikongo, cleared her throat distinctively, stood up and said, “Katrina, dear, can you help me take the plates to the kitchen?”

     Katrina stacked half the plates on the table atop each other and followed her mother to the small kitchen and closed the door behind her. Mrs. Shikongo began to quietly scrub the dirty dishes in the sink with an old sponge but Katrina knew her mother enough to realise she definitely had something to say. After several silent seconds passed, possibly attempting to choose her words carefully, Mrs. Shikongo spoke.

     “Do you know why your father and I have been married for so long?” she asked.

     Katrina had never really thought about that. She did not answer immediately. Her parents where the old fashioned type; her father didn’t go around buying her mother flowers and chocolate and the sort. In fact, they never called each other by any pet names, not even ‘honey’ or ‘baby’, but their love for each other had never once been in question. It oozed from them. It was evident in the simplest gestures, such as Mrs. Shikongo staying up late waiting for Mr. Shikongo after they had had an argument and he stormed off to have beers with his pals, or Mr. Shikongo giving the tongue of the family’s cow-head dinner to his wife despite being a deeply cultural man who knew it was supposed to be reserved for the male head of the home.

     “Because you love each other,” Katrina finally answered, fighting back tears.

     “I know your father is very excited about this,” Mrs. Shikongo began, turning from the sink, “but this is your life. Your father wants you to have a great life, without the financial struggle that he and I have had, but he doesn’t appreciate the fact that settling with the wrong person can be just as miserable. If you don’t want to go through with it, just say so. Your father will be disappointed at first, but in time he will understand.”

     A flare of hope beamed inside Katrina. The face of Michael, her ex-boyfriend, the one she truly loved, shot across her mind’s eye. Perhaps she could call him and ask him to take her back? She smiled. And this time her eyes sparkled with a gleam that had been noticeably absent when her lips formed that same curve for David only a few minutes ago.

     “I want to be with Michael,” Katrina finally admitted. “I don’t like David.”

     “It’s settled then,” Mrs. Shikongo said, “You’re not marrying him.” There was a look of both joy and sadness on her face. She took her daughter’s hands in her own continued. “I kept the album with pictures of you and Michael that you threw away. Go into our room and check the bottom drawer for it while I go and explain things to your father and the Shahepas.”

     Katrina followed her mother out of the kitchen but took a turn to the left into the thin corridor of the house. In her parent’s room, she knelt by the wardrobe and pulled one of the drawers. As she pulled the drawer an envelope fell out, but she ignored it and swiftly rummaged through the pile. She found her pink photo album and held it close to her chest, but just as she got up to join everyone in the sitting room she noticed a brown envelope on the floor, and being the curious, cheeky daughter of Asino and Mariah Shikongo, she was compelled to take a peek. She attempted to skim through the letter but was caught on one sentence. It read: ‘This letter serves as a reminder that following a series of outstanding payments, your house in Kuryangava ERF number 3998 shall be repossessed on February 14.’

     Katrina read that sentence again and again, and it struck her like a fresh blow every time she did. Why did they not tell her about this? Her parents had sacrificed so much for her and her sisters, and what were they going to get for all their troubles? Homelessness on Valentine’s Day. Even on the verge of losing their home, her mother was willing to put Katrina’s happiness ahead of everything. Tears began to form in her eyes, but she forced herself not to cry. She made a choice, and together with all her hopes and dreams, shoved the pink photo album back into the furthest end of the drawer. When she got to the sitting room she found all three Shahepas standing, Mrs. Shahepa looking particularly affronted.

     “What is this about you not wanting to be with me anymore?” David asked, angrily.

     “No, no, my love,” Katrina calmed him. “Mother misinterpreted a joke I made to her, it was supposed to be funny and sarcastic. I guess I’m not as funny as I thought.”

     Mrs. Shikongo looked bewildered.

     “We’re definitely getting married. Now, take me for a ride around the city while we leave our parents discussing the details,” Katrina said to David’s delight. She smiled at him, and this time her eyes did glisten, only it was the flash of a residue of tears she could never afford to shed.