By: Kandjengo kaMkwaanyoka
I usually take days to complete my writing, searching for empirical evidence to support my hypotheses. However, I wrote this in an hour.
Recent viral news about the lengths to which young women must go to sustain themselves through school has frightened, shocked, and embarrassed me as a father.
I am acutely aware of my own shortcomings and our collective failure to ensure the economic well-being of the girl child.
I failed to provide adequately for you, depriving you of the ability to concentrate on your studies with peace of mind, lacking necessities like accommodation, food, and other essentials.
I understand the challenges you face, but I am also economically constrained.
In hindsight, I wish we had focused on developing our Mahangu field instead of sending you to tertiary education.
I face questions about my failure to instil morals from individuals who do not understand the economic hardships many parents face.
They are clueless about the costs of rent, transportation, supplies, internet access, snacks, and clothing that a student needs.
I am judged as a father for letting you go in such a direction, but I have sought help from neighbours and other relatives, and they did not come through.
I cannot fully comprehend or relate to your situation on the Ongwediva, Rundu, or Windhoek campuses, so I refrain from passing judgement.
However, I do know how financially constrained I am in trying to support you.
To the Noisy Society
We have mocked these girls on WhatsApp groups, and they have made the headlines, but do we understand that GDP statistics can mask social ills?
The growth they portray often doesn’t extend beyond Erongo and Windhoek.
Are we questioning these girls from a moral and religious standpoint, or are we taking steps to ensure that school-going children are adequately cared for?
It is a pity we barely interrogate the economic and social causes of these issues; instead, we just shame and make noise.
As a father, I am ashamed. As an aspiring economist and researcher, I won’t dare participate in conversations that point fingers at the girl child partaking in these activities because I know how hard it is to leave a village and live in a strange city.
Why are we shocked that the majority of the girls indulging in such activities are students? Do we deserve to participate in this debate when we, as guardians, ignore their pleas for even N$100?
As policymakers, you sit in parliament and make laws that could allocate better resources to students.
As technocrats who implement policies, should you even have a comment? We talk as if we don’t have the means at the highest level to change the situations our people are going through.
Our shock at these developments is a clear sign that we do not understand our economic structure and the ineffectiveness of our policies.
As for me, the father and aspiring economist who is supposed to be vocal on policies and provide empirical guidance, I am sitting down and accepting the harsh reality of the Namibian economy.
Building an inclusive and caring economy shouldn’t just be rhetoric in our speeches but a guiding principle.
Inequality and poverty are deeper in Namibia and too hard to measure with our GDP figures.
What has surfaced about these young girls should serve as lessons for us to be more practical and compassionate in our economic policies and interventions.
From parliamentarians to economic facilitators, those in charge of capital, and society as a whole – we cannot keep wishing and hoping.
It will get worse with drought, inflation, rental costs, unemployment, and so on. So let us act.
As for my daughter, I am sorry for the cruelty of my economy.
My degree could not save us, and my leaders are busy with FDI and long speeches.
Kandjengo has been an absent father for so long, and in his regret and economic hardship, he wrote this – not in support of the acts but to alert the country to analyse the causes rather than judge.
Reach him at: gerastus16@gmail.com
