If goats could talk...

Namibia is not only a land of contrasts, but also a land of wonders. For a native, everything in the land of the brave may appear normal, but to an outsider, it is nothing short of extraordinary!

For instance, I have always thought of goats to be those white creatures some of us claim to farm with, but what transpired of late might change my perception of reality regarding them.

These creatures, which I mainly came to know as being natural herbivores, surprised me recently when I stepped out of Shoprite Oshakati and saw one chewing on a 'stokkie lekker', or lollipop as they are often referred to!

I was stunned; it is a goat and is not supposed to be chewing a stokkie lekker. The goat even had the stick of the lollipop sticking out - just like a real person, I mean goat, would do.

It was all happening in full view of the shoppers who just passed by without even blinking when seeing this ram, who later introduced itself to me as 'Billy', chewing on a stokkie lekker. Oh yeah - it could talk too - or was that just my imagination?

I must admit it could be fun if 'Billy' and I could spark up a conversation.

“Hey Billy, what's cooking today”, I would ask.

“Hey Charlie … what is it you want from me this time around? The last time you greeted me was when you attempted to put one of those green rubber rings around my scrotum, apparently because I am ugly and you would not want me to father offspring. Had I not run away, I would have probably lost my manhood - or goat-hood!” Billy would say.

“But Billy, let's face it….you are not as handsome or 'goat ramsome'… sorry, am still catching up on your vocabulary … you are not all that for a ram.”

The goat would look at me once and probably say;

“Oh yeah, like you are handsome? Sorry to break it to you Charlie - but you are not exactly Brad Pit yourself! Are you sure Shrek was not a gardener at your house around the time your mom had you?”

Phew! Its a good thing 'Billy' could not talk, for I prefer the version of me I see every morning in my bathroom mirror. Ja, that image I could live with.

Trust me, I have heard a lot of those 'Petrus-meneer-miesies' stories. Let's just say - I know how the cookie crumbles!

Back home in my native Omaheke, nothing amuses me more than when I see my grandmother about to answer the cell phone! You see, my granny was born before the advent of technology and having her own cell phone was a whole new world to her.

Mind you, this is the same granny who thought Bluetooth and Apple and Blackberry were real fruits.

The other day she received a call from one of my distant cousin - yes, a female one - an Otjiramue for those dying to know, and yes, I intend to marry her as a second wife. My granny spend the first ten minutes of the telephone conversation asking my cousin about how her mother, father, aunts and uncles were doing. She even had time to inquire on how the family dog, which was renowned for hunting, is doing!

“Granny, that was very impolite. You do not do such a thing over the phone granny,” I said after the conversation has ended.

“What are you talking about? Of course I had to know how they were all doing,” she responded.

“Yes, but granny, we do not do that kind of thing over the cell phone. And you were shouting granny, why would you shout?

“I was shouting because Tjipenandjambi is far. He is in Okakarara. If my neighbour over that homestead can hardly hear me when I speak on the phone, how will Tjipenandjambi hear me?

I left it at that. I mean, I also wanted to inform my granny that what the beloved family dog of Tjipenandjambi's parents does is not hunting, but poaching! But then again, I recalled the story of what the lion did to his subjects who were opinionated.



Until then…



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