Body of Christ, Om'Tommy and Volvos
The Weekender's Roast
The Body of Christ Party (BCP) arrived two years ago promising holy politics, righteous leadership, and a break from the corrupt ways of “earthly parties.” But instead of multiplying bread and fish, party president Festus Thomas appears to have multiplied bank withdrawals -allegedly using party funds to buy himself a shiny Volvo while his disciples fight for crumbs.
Senior members say Thomas runs the party accounts like a backyard cuca shop, except with fewer receipts and more miracles. After all, when only you and your wife are signatories to the bank account, who needs transparency? Insiders whisper that accountability meetings have turned into prayer sessions, begging for divine intervention before the next transaction disappears into the valley of leather seats and heated dashboards.
To many, Thomas resembles a confused cocktail of biblical personalities: part Solomon, for choosing luxury over logic; part Judas, for allegedly trading party trust for four wheels; and part Pharaoh, because everyone else is just wandering in the wilderness while he cruises in comfort. If Moses parted the Red Sea, Festus is parting his driveway to make space for imported blessings.
The Volvo itself has achieved sacred relic status among members. They speak of it not with admiration, but with awe - like a holy artefact bought not with faith, but with EFT. Some claim the car is more polished than the party manifesto. One member joked that if Thomas could perform miracles, the only one he has mastered is turning political donations into personal mileage.
The irony is thick enough to baptise someone in: while preaching moral redemption, Thomas allegedly behaves like a pastor who demands tithes then disappears to Dubai for “spiritual rejuvenation.” Namibia has seen this movie before - except this time the sermon ends with an engine roar, not a hallelujah.
But as this circus continues, the nation must confront the real question: if a man can’t be trusted with party funds, how on earth is he supposed to lead a country with billions in its budget? Namibia’s politics already resembles a buffet where leaders eat with both hands; do we really need another politician licking his fingers with a prayer on his lips and a Volvo in his parking lot?
Thomas seems to think he’s building a kingdom. But voters, not angels, will decide whether he gets promoted to the throne or kicked straight in the political nuts come election season. The ballot box remains the great equaliser: if leaders insist on treating Namibia like their personal komboni, maybe it's time voters returned the favour by turning the next election into a holy punishment service.
Until then, Thomas continues cruising while the congregation waits for answers. Perhaps he will explain the divine purpose of this Volvo, beyond transporting him swiftly to the bank. Maybe he will claim he bought it to “drive the party forward,” or that “Jesus also travelled with disciples” - though none of the scriptures mention a luxury SUV with Scandinavian engineering.
One thing is clear: the Body of Christ Party wanted salvation, but what it got instead is a leader acting like he's auditioning for a gospel music video. Namibia deserves better. Blessed are the voters who refuse to be fooled twice.
And if anyone catches Thomas sprinkling holy water on that Volvo, please film it. We need evidence for the archives of Namibian political comedy.
Senior members say Thomas runs the party accounts like a backyard cuca shop, except with fewer receipts and more miracles. After all, when only you and your wife are signatories to the bank account, who needs transparency? Insiders whisper that accountability meetings have turned into prayer sessions, begging for divine intervention before the next transaction disappears into the valley of leather seats and heated dashboards.
To many, Thomas resembles a confused cocktail of biblical personalities: part Solomon, for choosing luxury over logic; part Judas, for allegedly trading party trust for four wheels; and part Pharaoh, because everyone else is just wandering in the wilderness while he cruises in comfort. If Moses parted the Red Sea, Festus is parting his driveway to make space for imported blessings.
The Volvo itself has achieved sacred relic status among members. They speak of it not with admiration, but with awe - like a holy artefact bought not with faith, but with EFT. Some claim the car is more polished than the party manifesto. One member joked that if Thomas could perform miracles, the only one he has mastered is turning political donations into personal mileage.
The irony is thick enough to baptise someone in: while preaching moral redemption, Thomas allegedly behaves like a pastor who demands tithes then disappears to Dubai for “spiritual rejuvenation.” Namibia has seen this movie before - except this time the sermon ends with an engine roar, not a hallelujah.
But as this circus continues, the nation must confront the real question: if a man can’t be trusted with party funds, how on earth is he supposed to lead a country with billions in its budget? Namibia’s politics already resembles a buffet where leaders eat with both hands; do we really need another politician licking his fingers with a prayer on his lips and a Volvo in his parking lot?
Thomas seems to think he’s building a kingdom. But voters, not angels, will decide whether he gets promoted to the throne or kicked straight in the political nuts come election season. The ballot box remains the great equaliser: if leaders insist on treating Namibia like their personal komboni, maybe it's time voters returned the favour by turning the next election into a holy punishment service.
Until then, Thomas continues cruising while the congregation waits for answers. Perhaps he will explain the divine purpose of this Volvo, beyond transporting him swiftly to the bank. Maybe he will claim he bought it to “drive the party forward,” or that “Jesus also travelled with disciples” - though none of the scriptures mention a luxury SUV with Scandinavian engineering.
One thing is clear: the Body of Christ Party wanted salvation, but what it got instead is a leader acting like he's auditioning for a gospel music video. Namibia deserves better. Blessed are the voters who refuse to be fooled twice.
And if anyone catches Thomas sprinkling holy water on that Volvo, please film it. We need evidence for the archives of Namibian political comedy.
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