Caleb Kudah visits Namibia and ‘shares the link’

I finally visited the land flowing with milk and honey. And meat too! In fact, a lot of it! It’s called the land of the brave: Namibia!

The weather is just as heartwarming as its people.

With this combination, you’re held spellbound and left with nothing but riveting memories. I have had moments in my life where saying goodbye was difficult. Leaving Namibia is the latest. I know. I am supposed to show you and not tell. But allow me, for when I start showing you, you’d envy me at the very least or empty your bank account at most, to recreate my experience or even better. It would be worth it. Take that from me.

Listen, I ate crocodile meat! Yes, I did. It’s nothing close to what our typical Ghanaian palate is used to. I also ate zebra, a springbok – no don’t Google it. Come and see it live and eat it well-cooked in Namibia. I ate worms too because why not? This is the land of the brave.

I must admit my bravery didn’t get to the generous supply of beer in the land of the brave. But if an authentic beer and meat combo is your thing, you should consider ‘living’ before Fellow Ghanaians give you a haircut. Oh, let me gossip here: while in Namibia, I heard that the most notorious barber in recent times has served another round of ugly haircuts. In fact, one of us suffered that fate. Add a Kuntunkunuku haircut to a client who already visits God for barbering, and you know the pains were severe.

Please enjoy your life’s savings now before it is taken for free without permission.

Ok, let’s start it properly. From the Kotoka International Airport, we were airborne for 5 hours 55 mins. Our flight was generally smooth sailing. But leaving the O.R Tambo airport for the Kutako International Airport delayed for some 2 hours. But for the love of the promise ahead, we didn’t care much about how hard an airline would work to earn notoriety for delaying flights.

For we had set before us the joy of living the promise of seeing immersive landscapes, exploring quad bikes on the desert, enjoying dinner in the valley of the world’s oldest desert after an adrenaline-splitting thrill of a lifetime that made heavily built men scream yes yes yes.

Listen, if you have been driving or commuting in Accra’s traffic, I can assure you that your life expectancy is reducing gradually. No, I am no prophet of doom. In fact, one of us on the trip, a lady by every sense of the word nearly lost her life a week prior to the trip.

Her death warrant was simply that she was driving on the Accra-Tema motorway. A huge truck broke down, and an equally huge tyre was placed behind it to warn oncoming vehicles of danger. The truck was tolled away; however, the tyre was left on the road. Imagine our pitch-dark disgraced motorway without proper street markings and reflectors!

This young soul drove into it at night after returning from a long day’s work. Her car veered off the road and somersaulted several times into a ditch. She could have died.

But here she was enjoying drives as long as 7 hours from Windhoek, the national capital of Namibia, to Swakopmund on the Trans Kalahari Corridor, and not even a hole, I mean not even the one a thread passes through, could be found on the 7-hour journey. Imagine her relief?! No wonder she told her employers she had gone to see a therapist! That was a smart excuse but it’s no lie at all.

Well, fun fact the drive couldn’t have been any more than a 5-hour drive but as you’d know, we are Ghanaians. We are not used to good quality roads over a long stretch. So intermittently, we’d impress on our wonderful driver, comedian, geographer, archaeologist, historian, and everything you can wish for in a tour guide – Rudy – to pull up so we take selfies. Of course, the ride was not without our jama and the occasional ‘ei, hmmmn, Awurade, D for Daben?’ – all tributes read out in anger for the dead state of our roads. ‘Nti yen tumi nye Accra-Kumasi Highway ti se sie?’ An outburst questioning why we cannot replicate the quality of the road we drove on for what connects our major cities in Ghana.

You see, when you’re used to Terminator saying we have constructed the most roads in the history of the Republic of Ghana, coupled with his boss, Fellow Ghanaians throwing some figures at us in his State of the Nation address with his appointees busily convincing us to accept the scrambles we have, you can’t help but feel cheated being driven on roads in Namibia. I read on the internet, and indeed, I watched YouTube videos that claimed that Namibia is number 1 in Africa outdoing South Africa and Rwanda when it comes to the quality of roads. Listen, don’t take those seriously. Just jump on the next flight and see for yourself. You won’t be impressed with our penchant to score political points back home.

Listen, as I am writing these thoughts down, we are on a flight. More than 30,000 ft above sea level. This flight is bumpier (I have experienced this twice so far) than our drive on the roads of Namibia should I compare the experience to driving on the Accra-Tema motorway or Ashiaman roads? Let’s spare ourselves the agony.

Don’t get me wrong. There is nowhere like home. But home can be better, and don’t tell me Rome was not built in a day. Time doesn’t build. Days don’t! Neither do years. Intentional deliberate planning and execution do the building of Rome!

…(15 minutes later), sorry for the delay. I paused to grab a bite. The meat is the best part of it all. But let me not make you salivate. Let’s make progress. But I can’t wait to return to my banku and okro soups though! Trust me, the few times I have had to recite I promise on my honour these days, especially when I say to ‘be faithful and loyal to Ghana my motherland’, it is banku and okro soup with ‘yemudie’ and all the officers at parade in my neighbour’s soup pot that I have in mind! Don’t envy me. Find you awesome neighbours, ‘periodt!’

Ahuh, where did we get to? The roads? Oh let’s move on. Except for context, I need to tell you that the entire population of Accra is bigger than that of the whole of Namibia. They have been 2.5 million for a number of years now. Even though the size of the country is about 3 times bigger than Ghana. When I asked the young Namibian women, I met what the problem was. They pointed me to the young men. So I asked, with an offer to deploy peacekeeping and spreading officers from Ghana ready to make ‘Africa unite’ and multiple real.

The young men were open to the idea. They need help. One of them who had recently visited Ghana bleated out, ‘we have been trying’. Awwww, poor you. I thought. But that was the light side. The grimmer perspective of the sparse population of Namibia is the fact that they suffered a deadly genocide at the hands of the colonists – the Germans! I need to add.

Now, let me tell you about the oldest building in Namibia’s capital. It has a monument in front of it. A statue actually of a man and a woman. Each with a raised hand and a broken chain. It had an inscription that breaks my heart: their blood waters our freedom. Rudy, remember him? Our tour guide extraordinaire he explained another art. Men and women hanged on a tree with another man wielding a gun standing by.

‘That’s how they killed our ancestors’, he told me. They hanged pregnant women in the same manner and cut open their bellies. I cringed at his words; my fist was clenched as if to fight back. But that wasn’t the end of the barbaric treatment. They used their guns according to Rudy to pull out the unborn babies and play with them while laughing. I was tortured listening.

The colonial influence of the Germans would end after their defeat during the First World War. A historic church built in the heart of the city has the names of German soldiers who were killed by the locals. Rudy recounted that with a spark of pride on his face.

But German influence would continue to hold sway in Namibia. Windhoek, the national capital is pronounced Vin-tuk. Swakopmund is rich with German architecture and legacies. And yes, several businesses are German-owned. Let me add here that many Germans in Namibia are Namibians too.

According to the World Bank, Namibia ranks as one of the most unequal countries in the world. While the rich are Uber rich, the poor are chronically poor if not pandemically. I was surprised to learn foreigners own 70% of Namibian lands. Yes. And some of the Safari parks, which could be anything from a mega city full of wildlife, are owned by individual families. And no, they are not Namibians. Well, Black Namibians I mean.

But Ghanaians, we have a lot to learn from Namibians o! Oh, I kid you not. Listen, and I mean no disrespect here, the dirtiest part of Namibia is neater than some of our most sacred spots in Ghana, sacred holes inclusive! No cap my people. No cap at all. Namibia is such a neat country; they held that spot as the cleanest in Africa until Kigali overtook them recently. And no. This is not a legacy of colonialism. It’s their way of life. It’s their culture.

I couldn’t hide my envy when one of the tour operators picked up toothpicks after we were served sumptuous meals in the valley of the Namib desert! It was near sundown. They parked at a nice spot I could call an oasis. There, they served us food. I noticed they tied black poly bags by one of the cars so we dispose of our waste. Somehow, a toothpick was dropped. After picking it up and disposing it of, the team lead for our tour operators remarked that in Namibia, ‘littering is not allowed’. I hissed in my mind. Like mcteeeeew. Rolling my eyes. But in reality, it was all pains!!! Raw pains!! These guys are so neat! They’ve kept their country so clean!!! N3? Read that in a Southern African accent.

Have I told you this already? That even the poorest slum we visited in Namibia is cleaner than some of our richest neighbourhoods. Ok, if I have then you, ‘issorai’. Hmmmn.

Oh my goodness! My mind just played back what has become a joke of a sound byte. ‘We will make Accra the neatest city in Africa’. You all know where that came from. As it stands now, the best picture to describe this sound bite which was received with a lot of hope because of where it came from, is that of the ostrich. Forgive me I am just returning, well, still returning from Okapuka Safari Lodge where I saw an ostrich. I was told its eyes are bigger than its brains. It made me understand why it can claim to bury its head in the sand and pretend its giant body is also hidden. Hidden from filth, stench, endemic poverty and so on. Apologies to Massa!

We have built castles, and until recently attempted to build cathedrals in the air. In our minds, we are the best thing to ever happen on planet earth. Yet, we live and organize our lives in ways that the smallest of creatures scorn us for.

Listen, we are not all that bad. I know that’s what you may be saying. I agree. But we must agree that we love to praise ourselves too much for doing too little. We are always in awe of the least we do. We are quick to say something we have done is the best in West Africa when in fact we mean if you take coup-saddled nations and put them together, ah! We are better koraaa.

So allow me to express myself. That reminds me: I met a Ghanaian doctor in Namibia. 49 years old, and he is the Head of Surgery in all Tertiary Hospitals in Namibia! He told me Namibian press is freer than ours. He also said their articles are fiercest than ours. He remarked with regret how press freedom under President Kufour was much more upheld as compared to our human rights advocate head is state – President Akufo-Addo.

When I asked him to rank, guess what? He couldn’t. I remarked that though you’re thousands of miles away, you’re censored! He laughed so hard!

Anyway, this Ghanaian doctor doesn’t miss the news back home, though he has been away for 10 years. His default media of choice? You guessed right! Relevant radio always! Citi 97.3FM! I asked him if it is true that the Minister of Justice in Namibia and some other ministers are currently in jail, as Rudy told him and I later read online. He confirmed, adding that he knew some of them at a personal level. ‘The laws work here,’ he stressed. That was another time to do mcteeeew in my head! Rolling my eyes!! Raw pains, chale!!

Would he come back to work in Ghana? That question seemed preposterous. When I asked a younger doctor this question in London last month for Citi TV’s Beyond Borders, which should be premiering soon, the gentleman laughed so hard. And no, I was not doing BackPage! My new doctor friend who received me with so much warmth didn’t answer with a similar insouciance. It was more of a deep sigh. I could tell he would have loved to. Ghana trained him. Ghana made him who he is. But when he compares his life to his colleagues back home, he would be unfair to his generations to return. Oh, return and train. Yes. But work for the rest of my life in Ghana? No! Ghana doesn’t treat professionals right. Even patients. ‘Healthcare is free here,’ he bragged. ‘But the people are not up to 3 million.’ I chirped in quickly, to which he agreed. Ok, to be continued. It’s 7:30 pm. We just touched down at SA.

This “to be continued” has taken forever. It’s 3:19 pm now in Accra, and I am relaxing after a heavy bowl of fufu with my dear one. Sunday fufu after church with family is one such blessing we take for granted! I bet Ghanaians in the diaspora appreciate the weight of this point. Well, so here is the thing. While I am relaxing, a part of me is deeply distressed. You’d recall I mentioned how our flight from the Kotoka International Airport to O.R Tambo International Airport was delayed by 2 hours? Ok, so an even more embarrassing development took place.

One of Ghana’s former High Commissioners to Namibia was on the trip. Upon reaching Johannesburg SAA (South African Airlines) staff demanded that he be returned to Ghana simply because his passport was due for expiry in less than 6 months. This was despite his short stay in Namibia for purposes of tourism.

The question of why Africans don’t travel to Africa much kept ringing through our conversations, and while cost and other burdensome restrictions rear their ugly heads, the unprofessional conduct of some airline staff is worthy of note for urgent improvement.

Before I give you the terrible details, here is the memorable. One of the hosts on the airline we travelled with back home was so fun, so professional, and human that he is being treated to a fufu party somewhere in East Legon as I write. Sadly, I am unable to participate because yeah, COVID is over, and service no longer lasts for 2 hours. Not that I am complaining.

There was another who was so sweet! She saw my ‘Make it Ghana’ t-shirt and simply fell in love. She wanted one. I promised to host her when she is in town in 2 weeks and to lavish her with all things Ghana!

Now to the terrible. On our way from the O.R Tambo Airport to Kotoka International Airport, 4 Ghanaians returning from the trip to Namibia got caught up in a medical emergency. Sensing danger, three of our compatriots gave advance notice to the SAA staff for some clemency. However, while the flight delayed for another hour before takeoff, the staff took out the luggage of the four, leaving them stranded in South Africa. It was shocking to witness their intransigence as no amount of pleas to even retrieve a bag containing essential medicine for the former High Commissioner, which posed serious health risks was considered. That was quite an anti-climax.

For parents of 6 children put together to be holed in SA while caretaker-relatives who were hoping for their return in order to continue with their own lives now have to wait till Thursday, as SAA staff say they’re unlikely to get tickets for Tuesday. I mean, they could delay the flight for 2 hours without reason but won’t reason with their passengers when they are at their lowest. That period spent offloading their luggage could have facilitated the boarding of the now-stranded passengers. Don’t you agree? Or you say the laws are working?

I have heard many investors say that doing business in Africa is tedious. Not because they hate hard work. But simply because situations like this make moving across Africa simply too hard. This is something we need to collectively address if we want to promote intra-Africa trade and all that comes with it.

In the meantime, here I am dreading Accra’s traffic as I mentally prepare to return to ‘Speaking to Citi News,’ impatient to share in more detail all the lovely things I saw and enjoyed in Namibia to my ravenous colleagues.

Already, my heart is warm watching Umaru Sanda Amadu update our viewers on the fast pace of progress on the resettlement centres for persons displaced by the spillage of the Akosombo dam. These things make me so proud to return to work. Of course, I am also aware some politicians have prepared fodder for me ahead of the week for BackPage! We are ready for the showdown.

Honestly, there is so much I wish to share with you from Namibia. But let me leave the rest for you to look forward to on Beyond Borders Citi TV’s all-new program that focuses on Ghanaians living beyond the borders of Ghana and so much more of which, I am privileged to be the host.

You’d learn of the investment opportunities in Namibia that you can take advantage of, you will vicariously escape the hurly-burly of life in ‘Ogyakrom,’ you would be proud to be Ghanaian because everywhere we went, we spread Ghanaian love and of course, you’d be afflicted with deep thoughts! Your heart will be plagued. How do we get there without sacrificing what the world envies us for? Oh, trust me, it’s a labor of love. And I can’t wait to share all these with you on Citi TV! Don’t say I didn’t inform you. Like they say, you snooze, you lose. And oh, let me add, when you watch, don’t forget the new buzzword in Ghana: ‘share the link!’

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