By: Kandjengo kaMkwaanyoka- from Okwalondo with love

They say about 80% of our population is Christian. I would also like to know how many faiths we have in Namibia. And how the rest of the 20 percent is allocated across denominations.

We statistically know how many people are Christian in Namibia. I would also like to know how many of us are economically woke.
Before I continue, as a believer who consistently prays (I won’t tell you whom I pray to) during drought, I look up and unconsciously surrender myself.

At the same time, my ancestors used to send someone to go get the rain back then – the rains influenced whom we believed in.
During one of my usual weekend walks in my Kasi, I decided to stop and take a nice look at this beautiful building just to realise it is a church building.

Secondly, it is the most beautiful and tallest building in Hakahana.

Just for context, Hakahana is a Katutura location/settlement before the confusing Havana. It is mixed with brick houses and is beautifully covered in ghettos that hide the brick house.

Ironically, in front of this beautiful building, is a makeshift barbershop, salon, and a stand selling tomatoes and onions.

As I stood there, I was so confused, and my mind was full of thoughts, judgemental and other beautiful ones given my upbringing in Onandova Parish.

So the sight in front of me was quite perplexing because the church building was so huge, bigger and taller than anything in Hakahana, but the makeshifts where people are hustling are not only dwarfed in comparison, they are also squeezed dangerously close into the road.

Compelled by an urge to understand this quizzical scene, I wanted to ask the people around if they are the ones who contributed to the beautiful building, and if not, who did?

The main reason for my evident, yet withheld judgment is because Hakahana is full of ghettos but instead of investing in their houses and proper structures, they built a big church.

Also, given that my granny taught me a church is where those praising collectively can gather, I reserved my concerns.

As I walked down to Simon Shexuxwa supermarket, I noticed some women selling fresh maasbanker and young men braaing meat on the side of the road.

I inspected the stock in boxes on top of crates and some assembled tables.

I picked up my pack which is N$30, moved to the lady braaing chicken gizzards and feet (uundiba nuukasha) and ordered some for N$14 since one is N$2.

As the lady prepared my gizzards, I exposed my thoughts and asked if she goes to that big church, and she said yes.

Then the judgemental me started to inspect everything around her and her braaing stands.

After my inspection, I had so many questions for her then realised that I am also eating N$14 gizzards, and I have also accepted that extra gizzard she gave me as a thank you.

So, I kept my questions to myself and devoured my gizzards.

I, however, reminded her that her baby sleeping in a box next to needed adjustment.

I continued with my journey to Leo Barber Shop.

I found two customers in front of me. Leo Barber’s shop is corrugated iron, and only three people can fit inside. It is in the same street as the beautiful big church.

Inside the barbershop, I asked Leo when last he went to church and how the business was doing.

After he finished, I started preaching as if I was on a pulpit in the big church. Why are there so many churches, but no big manufacturing setup or proper infrastructure for us to do our business?

Can’t we build both? How come we can put money together to build a church but cannot build better infrastructure for salons and barber shops in Hakahana?

The women that I buy fish from only come to sell their fish from around 16h00 because it is much cooler so their fish do not go bad- also because they sell in open spaces.

I was now being loud, and interrogating my friend Leo, even though he doesn’t go to church in Windhoek apparently, only seeing the house of the Lord in Ondobe when home.

My point here is how many of us are economically “woke” and what are we doing about it?

Are we praying without efforts perhaps?
Are we building big religious infrastructure to pray in and forget to work and innovate perhaps?

Are economic prosperity and being religious mutually exclusive or why does Hakahana have a big church and so many ghettos for hustling?

Anyway, all these questions were for Leo, my barber. My turn came to get a haircut, so I kept quiet and continued the church conversation in my head. Email: erastus@thevillager.com.na