The nature of our freedom

And so, the ugly head of intimate partner violence is reared so early in the year. On Sunday morning, a 25-year-old mother of a toddler was shot in the head with a 9mm Makarov pistol, by her partner and father of her child.

According to the police, 'unknown relationship problems' was the cause of her death.

We live in a country where people do not divorce, split up or separate. No, the country we live in has women dying, being shot or beaten to death, or as in one particularly gruesome case, set alight in her bed and burnt to death.

For whatever transgression it may have been.

A soldier in the National Defence Force. Think of it, National Defence Force. Almost 40 years old too so no longer a child or emotionally immature. Trained at the taxpayer's cost to protect and defend the country and its people. Fed and clothed at the taxpayer's cost. Living at the taxpayer's cost.

Kills the mother of his child.

We also remember the policeman from Gobabis who killed his two sons, aged seven and four. Stabbed them to death. To get back at the mother.

This is the country we are living in. This is what we have been reduced to following our euphoria on 21 March 1990 when we, black and white, lined the then Kaiser Street to celebrate the birth of our beautiful country, named after our beautiful Namib Desert. And of course, our freedom. Freedom at last.

Today, freedom means something entirely different. It means Hepatitis outbreaks because there is no sanitation. It means that a boy of 10 who broke his thumb was badly anaesthetised and can no longer walk or talk. It means that children rely on school feeding programmes to get through the day. It means that drivers say a prayer before they get onto the roads of this country. It means that women fear their lovers, husbands and partners. It means that children should fear their uncles and grandparents and other family members because they could be raped, even though they are three years old.

This is what our freedom has become.