Leave that ‘do me a favour’ nonsense in 2025!
The Weekender's Roast
Happy New Year to the ‘do me a favour’ brigade. May your 2026 be blessed with an element of pride, boundaries and a wallet that stands on its own legs.
Ladies (and the gentlemen watching nervously from the sidelines), let us agree on one small lifestyle resolution: we are retiring the ancient ritual of replying to a “Good morning” text with “I’m not well - please send lunch money.” Breakfast is important, yes. But so is dignity. Do your parents know that you’re here acting like those destitute Kadhila Amoomo Angolan kids at the traffic lights?
A greeting from a man is not a debit order. It is not a soft launch for you to spew bile about needing this or that. We’re not your fathers!
And while we’re disinfecting bad habits, can we retire the sacred Namibian tradition of leaving the purse at home on purpose? Not even a ceremonial Nujoma–Pohamba–Hage N$30 note folded into the bra like a rare treasure? Who exactly raised you – Khanyi Mbau?
The contradictions are Olympic-level. By day: “Independent woman.” By night: “Please eWallet, I forgot my bag.” On Instagram it’s ‘binnekant Cape Town’, ‘mafuta we enter’, window seats, clinking glasses, and captions in italics. At the table it’s vibes-only contributions. And loud noise!
Then - surprise! - when men develop egos and look down on women who beg for lunch, petrol, airtime, data, nails, hair and emotional maintenance - we scream “patriarchy!” while simultaneously sending banking details. Sis, if he pays the invoice, he will request the minutes. That’s capitalism, not culture.
Yes, the Bible says a man must provide – but for his wife and family. Not for every Lisa, Saara and Nangula with a funny wig and nails that look like agricultural equipment. Scripture has context. And limits.
And let’s talk about the boy child, who is apparently running a feeding scheme. Every “hi” is a subsidy. Every date is a bailout. And you, son of Adam, don’t you know that women have destroyed kings? It’s in the Bible. Did you even send ploughing money to the village?
As William Golding (recklessly but memorably) suggested, women are foolish to pretend they are equal to men. They are far superior and always have been. Correct - when not crowdfunding on WhatsApp! We have a few of those, but facing extinction. Give that dying breed opportunity and she multiplies it. Give her education and she builds an economy. Give her groceries and she feeds a household. Give her a smile and – shock - she might just smile back, because she’s busy paying her own bills.
So here’s the 2026 programme of action: If you’re going out, carry a purse. If you’re hungry, order food - with money you earned. If you’re posting jet-set captions, match them with bank statements. If you want equality, stop outsourcing lunch.
We are recruiting a new elite: women with degrees, careers, payslips and receipts. Women who don’t confuse flirtation with financing. Women who can say “I’ve got it” without blinking - or begging.
No more handouts for you. No more emergency lunches funded by “Hi” texts. Tsek!
Ladies (and the gentlemen watching nervously from the sidelines), let us agree on one small lifestyle resolution: we are retiring the ancient ritual of replying to a “Good morning” text with “I’m not well - please send lunch money.” Breakfast is important, yes. But so is dignity. Do your parents know that you’re here acting like those destitute Kadhila Amoomo Angolan kids at the traffic lights?
A greeting from a man is not a debit order. It is not a soft launch for you to spew bile about needing this or that. We’re not your fathers!
And while we’re disinfecting bad habits, can we retire the sacred Namibian tradition of leaving the purse at home on purpose? Not even a ceremonial Nujoma–Pohamba–Hage N$30 note folded into the bra like a rare treasure? Who exactly raised you – Khanyi Mbau?
The contradictions are Olympic-level. By day: “Independent woman.” By night: “Please eWallet, I forgot my bag.” On Instagram it’s ‘binnekant Cape Town’, ‘mafuta we enter’, window seats, clinking glasses, and captions in italics. At the table it’s vibes-only contributions. And loud noise!
Then - surprise! - when men develop egos and look down on women who beg for lunch, petrol, airtime, data, nails, hair and emotional maintenance - we scream “patriarchy!” while simultaneously sending banking details. Sis, if he pays the invoice, he will request the minutes. That’s capitalism, not culture.
Yes, the Bible says a man must provide – but for his wife and family. Not for every Lisa, Saara and Nangula with a funny wig and nails that look like agricultural equipment. Scripture has context. And limits.
And let’s talk about the boy child, who is apparently running a feeding scheme. Every “hi” is a subsidy. Every date is a bailout. And you, son of Adam, don’t you know that women have destroyed kings? It’s in the Bible. Did you even send ploughing money to the village?
As William Golding (recklessly but memorably) suggested, women are foolish to pretend they are equal to men. They are far superior and always have been. Correct - when not crowdfunding on WhatsApp! We have a few of those, but facing extinction. Give that dying breed opportunity and she multiplies it. Give her education and she builds an economy. Give her groceries and she feeds a household. Give her a smile and – shock - she might just smile back, because she’s busy paying her own bills.
So here’s the 2026 programme of action: If you’re going out, carry a purse. If you’re hungry, order food - with money you earned. If you’re posting jet-set captions, match them with bank statements. If you want equality, stop outsourcing lunch.
We are recruiting a new elite: women with degrees, careers, payslips and receipts. Women who don’t confuse flirtation with financing. Women who can say “I’ve got it” without blinking - or begging.
No more handouts for you. No more emergency lunches funded by “Hi” texts. Tsek!
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Namibian Sun
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