‘He Loved This Country, Yet He Was No Saint’ – News

“Our task today is not to weep, but to adopt a revolutionary attitude as we face the tragic situation caused by Samora Machel’s disappearance….to avoid falling into sentimentalism, we must not weep.”

These were the words of Thomas Sankara following the death of Mozambique’s president on 19 October 1986 in a plane crash. 

“With sentimentalism, one cannot understand death. Sentimentalism belongs to the messianic vision of the world, which, since it expects a single man to transform the universe, inspires lamentation, discouragement, and despondency as soon as this man disappears,” he added.

To the African, death, like birth, is a ritual observed in a particular way. It does not matter whether one was a friend or a foe of the deceased.

This orientation is informed by African spirituality in which the community is understood as consisting of three beings: The living, the unborn and the dead.

The dead are regarded as those who changed seats – from being alive into ancestry. Our orientation is different from European beliefs, as submitted by the philosopher Epicurus, that the human soul perishes with the body at death when all sensations and conscious existence end.

To the African, death is beyond the deceased and the relations. It is not treated as a private party with signs at the door saying ‘right of admission is reserved’ or ‘by invitation only’.

It is for this reason that when some among us took to public platforms to ostensibly point out what they saw as hypocrisy of those mourning the passing of president Hage Geingob, including some musicians, what it exposed was not those they sought to point at but the hollowness of their minds.

The pedestrian level of their consciousness on the question of death to the African was laid bare. An Oshiwambo expression comes to mind: “Eesa iha dhi fukwathana” – loosely translated, it means we cannot privatise mourning or prevent another from mourning.

This point is solidified by Khoenkhoes Owoses, who wrote on Facebook on 27 February: “From all the things that stood out is the authenticity of the Damaras, their hearts, forgiveness, and the love they have for a man who regarded them as nothing… talk down our king. Not because we are stupid, but because we are a forgiving people.”

WHAT IS LEFT FOR US

President Geingob is gone. He will not return. What is left for us, as Sankara told the Burkinabes following president Machel’s death, is to reflect and resolve, individually and collectively, on the meaning of his death.

Those who grew up and were propelled by him are correct to weep. They indeed lost a mentor and patron. They and those to whom he represented unkept developmental promises are correct in pondering the meaning of his death in their circumstances.

However, their negative experiences cannot be imposed on others. This is equally true for those with positive experiences – their experiences cannot be imposed on the barefooted wretched of Namibia because of acts of commission or omission. >

Those observing Geingob’s burial site, with electricity, tiles, and distinguished surroundings compared to their harsh living conditions in informal settlements cannot be denied their subjectivities.

Equally, those who decided to bury him with dignity in line with the country’s laws cannot be wished away. There are those of us, involved in radical activism, who sometimes look at ourselves in the mirror wondering if we would be alive if we had had a different president from Geingob.

We cannot be denied our reflections and thoughts. These are conversations of legacy. By their very nature, legacies are contested and subjective. It is sometimes, although not always, like beauty – in the eye of the beholder.

What is clear is that Geingob was a towering figure in Namibian politics. No one could miss his presence, whether for good or bad.

A ROCKY ROAD

The late president was also a man with a sense of occasion and of theatre. I learned first-hand that he was a master of survivalism.

For instance, in 2015, as young land activists we met with Geingob at State House.

Our seven-hour meeting resulted in a joint land servicing programme between the government and the Affirmative Repositioning (AR) movement committing to service 200 000 plots starting with Windhoek, Walvis Bay and Oshakati.

We were hopeful, as were many Namibians, but it later emerged that president Geingob’s primary concern was to prevent land occupation and weaken our ability to agitate and mobilise on this question. We subsequently withdrew from this deal at the beginning of 2017.

The programme only accounted for less than 20 000 plots and/or houses. We ended up at the Supreme Court where Geingob’s lawyers argued the agreement could not be enforced because he was coerced.

Geingob needed to survive the storm at that moment.

A MAN OF MANY PARTS

Indeed, he was our third president. His death was always going to reverberate across our nation. To adapt the words of Shakespeare, Geingob was full of sound and fury, sometimes signifying nothing and at other times signifying a lot.

He was, indeed, an enigma.

In a tribute that revealed a lot to an analytical eye, deputy chief justice Petrus Tileinge Damaseb said: “President Geingob was a man of many parts as we have all come to learn during the period of mourning… Above all, he loved this country and its people… Yet he was no saint and would not have wanted to be referred to as such.”

Damaseb, like Sankara in October 1986, assists us in reflecting on the death of president Geingob.

The country has a future. As one door closes, another one opens. We are yet to see the type of door that will open and where it will take us.

Let’s listen to deputy chief justice Damaseb again: “Dr Geingob was a man of many parts as we have all come to learn during the period of mourning… Above all, he loved this country and its people… Yet he was no saint and would not have wanted to be referred to as such.” 

• Job Shipululo Amupanda is the activist in chief of the Affirmative Repositioning (AR) movement and former mayor of Windhoek. He holds a PhD in Political Studies from the