A GIRL FROM EHOMBA MOUNTAIN WHO WANTS TO ACHIEVE SOMETHING

A GIRL FROM EHOMBA MOUNTAIN 

 CHAPTER ONE

A GIRL FROM EHOMBA MOUNTAIN WHO WANTS TO ACHIEVE SOMETHING

From the Mountain to the City Lights

The time of being told, “Wake up and go to school,” had finally come to an end. I had just completed Grade Twelve. I was overjoyed. But my happiness was not the same as everyone else’s.

Some of my classmates were simply relieved that school was over. Even those who had failed did not seem to care. They were ready to work anywhere they could find a job,  in a chin shop, in a bar, or any place that would give them money for food. For some of them, life was only about being seen in bars. As long as they were drunk, they felt satisfied.

Other learners came from wealthy families. They already had plans. Some expected to inherit their parents’ properties one day. The boys used to talk about this during lunch breaks or after school. I only listened quietly. I did not have much to say. Between lessons, I would hear them talking about Okabush-Kovahimba and Herero Mall. To me, those sounded like big and exciting places in Windhoek. They also talked about going to UNAM and NUST the following year, the biggest universities in Namibia.

The boys who liked fashionable girls did not pay attention to me. I had no beautiful clothes. I owned only one pair of jeans from a China shop next to Pep Store in Opuwo, and my school uniform. Most days, I wore my uniform so that people would not notice that I had only one pair of jeans.

In our class, there was a boy named Tukondja, also known as Tux. I had a secret crush on him, but he never knew. He dressed very well and always had nice things. Maybe he was one of those boys from a rich family.

But let me tell you why I was truly happy.

I was happy because something I had been waiting for all my life was finally close. I wanted to become a certified lawyer. I did not just want it, I needed it. I was preparing myself for the real world, and in my heart, I believed I was read.

I am a girl from Ehomba Mountain, also known as Ondundu ya Homba or Ohaikororo, on the outskirts of Omuzenga. If you visit that place, you may feel as if you have entered another world, a world where technology is not everywhere.

There was a small shop owned by Mr. Makinhu called Cuka shop. It had a television. That was where we used to watch Kizomba movies. I once saw an Angolan lady dancing Kizomba, and I admired her. I loved watching Kizomba because we live so close to the Namibian border that sometimes I feel as if I am in Angola.

I come from a poor family. In one of the Kizomba songs, there was a girl who reminded me of myself. She was more beautiful than I was, but she was also poor. That girl gave me hope.

In August, during the second term, I wrote my final examinations. I studied very hard. When the results came out, I had 40 points. I was admitted to study Bachelor of Laws (Honours) at the University of Namibia.

I was accepted at UNAM, the largest university in Namibia.

I was going to the city of lights.

All I could think about was success. I believed in my brain. I believed in my hard work.

Mrs. Kapika, my English teacher, was a humble woman who feared God. She helped me a lot because I was good at English. I did not have money to make copies of my documents for applications, but she helped me fill in many forms. Without her, I would not have made it this far.

January arrived, and with it came challenges.

One evening, I was sitting outside with my younger brothers and sisters at pomaṱiwa. For us, pomaṱiwa is the outdoor kitchen, an open space where we cook. I was preparing food when my mother joined me.

She was happy that I was going to Windhoek,  a city she had heard about but had never visited.

She said,
“You will stay in Windhoek with a lady named Ngarii. I heard through Kutjee that she lives in Pioneers Park. I want to warn you: do not misbehave in other people’s houses. I also heard that UNAM is nearby. What I want from you is to read a lot.”

She spoke for a long time about being a good girl in Windhoek.

But in my mind, I was already seeing the city of lights. I was finally leaving the village and Opuwo, the dusty and rocky town. I wanted something new. Something fresh.

The next day, it was pension day for elderly people. My mother asked me to go and sell wild food from our mountain. It was good food, natural food from Ehomba.

As I thought about what my mother had said, that I would be staying with Ms. Ngarii, I felt uneasy. The last time I saw her was when she came to Ehomba for a political campaign. She and my mother did not seem to understand each other well. I remember she was driving a Jeep.

My mother told me that Ngarii was her younger sister, which made her my aunt. But they did not grow up together. I did not speak much to her that day because she was busy with politics.

Later, I heard that she had married a well-known businessman who paid for her degree. But their marriage did not last. They divorced.

How would she treat me?

My cousin Vemuu came to visit us during the holiday. She loved talking,  and she told me everything about Windhoek.

I called it the city of lights.

She called it the city of honey and milk, a city where everything a human being needs can be found.

I asked her about my aunt Ngarii because she had once stayed with her during her first year at UNAM.

My cousin was very kind, but also very funny. She told me her own story. She had never met her father. He left for work when she was only one month old. Up to this day, they have never met. People say he married another woman in Khorixas and never returned to Okanguati.

Her mother, my mother’s older sister, died when my cousin was still young. My mother raised her. Even though she was three years older than me, I saw her as my elder sister.

She was now a third-year student at the University of Namibia studying Accounting.

She dressed beautifully. She wore expensive clothes with big names. She had an iPhone 13 Pro Max. I was sure she would help me once I reached Windhoek.

My mother used to call her Ndjona-Top, which means “the lamp on top.” She always shone brightly.

She wore Brazilian hair, 24 inches long. I once thought she had a rich boyfriend because she always looked expensive. But she told me she was the chief accountant at Tereka Trading CC and also the personal secretary to the Managing Director. He was much older than her, but he paid her well.

Then she told me something that confused me.

“You can get everything you want,” she said, “if you do a small favour.”

I did not ask her what that favour meant.

My cousin worked hard at home whenever she visited. My mother loved her very much. I saw her as the firstborn of our family. She had worked hard to reach where she was.

But even for her, life was not always easy. If things did not go well with Aunt Ngarii, she would have to look for another place to stay.

She was my mentor.

She would guide me in Windhoek.

I was excited.

But deep inside, I was also afraid.

What if Aunt Ngarii mistreated me?

 

The End of Chapter One

Wait for Part Two as A GIRL FROM EHOMBA MOUNTAIN WHO WANTS TO ACHIEVE SOMETHING continues…