There you have it. The year is gone and it’s December again: the month of thinking about your sins (like your size 38 waist) and saying “thank you” for the things that went well.
A cloudburst of nostalgia usually rains down on me in December. I’m tense, emotional, tired, in need of a holiday – like everyone else in the world. I crave laughter, watermelon and cotton candy. I want to braai saddle chops, lay tables, drink cold beer and eat galjoen cooked in foil. I want to be with the people I love and forget about all the things that went wrong.
I try to avoid Windhoek during the festive season. The rest of the year, the Namibian capital crawls with taxis, court cases, fried food, protests, murder, corruption,…