Prison Break: Grade 9 and a good family name
The Weekender's Roast
This week’s outrage: a viral poster questioning how Leefa Shikongo, daughter of national police chief Joseph Shikongo, managed to land a job at the Namibian Correctional Service (NCS) allegedly armed with nothing more than Grade 9 and a good family name.
“How did that happen?” the poster demanded - in pink font nogal, because nothing says institutional collapse like pastel rage and Canva confidence.
Enter the NCS, clearing its throat, adjusting its tie and unleashing a clarification longer than Imms Mulunga’s charge sheet. According to the service, Shikongo was not recruited via ancestral spirits, or daddy’s speed dial, but through a hairdresser recruitment category requiring either a TVET trainer diploma or three years’ verifiable experience. She reportedly scored 84% in assessments — a mark many keyboard warriors last encountered when Nangolo Mbumba was still education minister.
But wait, there’s more. She also holds a “certificate in healthcare giver”. What on God’s green earth is that? She was duly appointed as Correctional Officer I, Grade 12, says the NCS: In short: nothing to see here, move along!
Unfortunately, satire - like bureaucracy - does not accept a single memo as final.
Because in the court of public opinion, qualifications are not measured in certificates, but in surnames. And in Namibia, certain surnames arrive at interviews before their owners do, already seated, already smiling, already asking where to sign.
The irony is thick enough to spread on a vetkoek. While institutions shout “competence!”, the public shouts “connections!”, and somewhere in between sits the truth - standing in a queue at HR, clutching a file, wondering why it didn’t just study accounting or leave for the UK like Utjiua from Aminuis.
To be fair, the NCS insists its processes are transparent, fair and non-discriminatory. And to be equally fair, Namibians insist they’ve heard that remix before - usually just before a cousin, nephew, girlfriend, godchild or golfing partner is sworn in.
So did the system work, or did the optics flop harder than a government website on a tender-closing day? Is this a case of earned recruitment, or just another episode in the long-running national series “Who You Know: Season 34”?
Until recruitment panels start live-streaming interviews - or surnames are anonymised like MTC credit recharge numbers - one thing remains certain: in Namibia, no appointment is complete without a meme, no clarification ever truly arrests public suspicion, and no Saturday is safe from a roast.
Congratulations Leefa Shikongo - pass our regards to Bernard Esau!
“How did that happen?” the poster demanded - in pink font nogal, because nothing says institutional collapse like pastel rage and Canva confidence.
Enter the NCS, clearing its throat, adjusting its tie and unleashing a clarification longer than Imms Mulunga’s charge sheet. According to the service, Shikongo was not recruited via ancestral spirits, or daddy’s speed dial, but through a hairdresser recruitment category requiring either a TVET trainer diploma or three years’ verifiable experience. She reportedly scored 84% in assessments — a mark many keyboard warriors last encountered when Nangolo Mbumba was still education minister.
But wait, there’s more. She also holds a “certificate in healthcare giver”. What on God’s green earth is that? She was duly appointed as Correctional Officer I, Grade 12, says the NCS: In short: nothing to see here, move along!
Unfortunately, satire - like bureaucracy - does not accept a single memo as final.
Because in the court of public opinion, qualifications are not measured in certificates, but in surnames. And in Namibia, certain surnames arrive at interviews before their owners do, already seated, already smiling, already asking where to sign.
The irony is thick enough to spread on a vetkoek. While institutions shout “competence!”, the public shouts “connections!”, and somewhere in between sits the truth - standing in a queue at HR, clutching a file, wondering why it didn’t just study accounting or leave for the UK like Utjiua from Aminuis.
To be fair, the NCS insists its processes are transparent, fair and non-discriminatory. And to be equally fair, Namibians insist they’ve heard that remix before - usually just before a cousin, nephew, girlfriend, godchild or golfing partner is sworn in.
So did the system work, or did the optics flop harder than a government website on a tender-closing day? Is this a case of earned recruitment, or just another episode in the long-running national series “Who You Know: Season 34”?
Until recruitment panels start live-streaming interviews - or surnames are anonymised like MTC credit recharge numbers - one thing remains certain: in Namibia, no appointment is complete without a meme, no clarification ever truly arrests public suspicion, and no Saturday is safe from a roast.
Congratulations Leefa Shikongo - pass our regards to Bernard Esau!
Comments
Namibian Sun
No comments have been left on this article