The coastal air feels heavier this week. Walvis Bay, usually abuzz with salt, seagulls, and the rhythm of commerce, has fallen a little quieter. The news of the passing of John Savva, or as everyone knew him, Uncle Savva, has rippled across the Namibian coastline with the weight of disbelief and sorrow. It feels, quite simply, like the town has lost a heartbeat.
Yes, death is life’s unbroken promise to us all. But there are those rare souls whose presence feels eternal, whose laughter fills rooms, whose kindness steadies communities, and whose integrity anchors generations. Uncle Savva was one of those. For Walvis Bay, he wasn’t just a businessman; he was an institution.
Long before corporate chains and imported retail giants found their footing in Namibia, there stood Venus Supermarket, a humble corner shop that became the pulse of local trade. It wasn’t just where people shopped; it was where they belonged. Generations grew up buying their groceries, their first ice cream, or their Sunday roast from Venus. And behind the counter, with his characteristic warmth and quiet authority, was Uncle Savva.
He understood something many never do, that business is about people, not profit. When large South African retailers began flooding the market with their size and might, he refused to bend. His store remained proudly independent, resolutely Namibian, and defiantly local. He believed in the dignity of small business and in the quiet power of relationships, a handshake, a smile, a name remembered.
Standing right next to him as he grew his business was his ever-humble and hardworking wife, Rula, a true partner in every sense of the word. Together, they built not just an enterprise but a way of life. Where he led with vision and heart, she anchored it with grace and resilience. Theirs was a partnership that embodied the best of what marriage and community could be: shared effort, shared laughter, shared dreams.
When major hotel chains began opening along the coast, Uncle Savva once again stayed true to himself. He championed the idea of a local hotel, a place that belonged to Walvis Bay as much as it served it. His establishment became the venue for countless fundraisers, birthdays, and wedding receptions, moments of joy and community that defined the town’s social calendar. And every single day, without fail, Uncle Savva would be seated at the same table, in the same chair, quietly managing his businesses and serving his community. That image, of steadfastness, humility, and service will forever be etched in the collective memory of Walvis Bay.
From Greece to Walvis Bay
John Savva’s story is one that enriches Namibia’s tapestry. He arrived on our shores as a young Greek immigrant — a stranger to the language, the culture, and the desert winds. But in the way that true visionaries do, he adapted, learned, and loved this land deeply. Namibia became his home, and he gave back with both hands.
He didn’t just build a business; he built community. From retail to real estate, from fisheries to philanthropy, Uncle Savva played a vital role in the Namibianization of the fishing industry, helping to ensure that Namibians took their rightful place in one of the country’s most vital economic sectors. His foresight and commitment helped shape Walvis Bay into the dynamic, diverse town it is today.
To call him a “business pioneer” alone would be to diminish the fullness of his humanity. To many, he was simply Uncle Savva, the man you could always turn to for advice, a helping hand, or a heartfelt laugh. His mentorship extended beyond the boardroom and into everyday life. Young entrepreneurs found in him a listener, a guide, and a believer. Families found in him a friend whose word could be trusted and whose generosity knew no bounds.
He had that rare blend of old-world decency and modern vision, grounded in humility but never afraid of growth. His life was a living testament to what Namibia has always stood for: resilience, warmth, and hope.
A lasting legacy
As the tide pulls in and out along the Walvis Bay shoreline, the memories of Uncle Savva remain, in the people he mentored, in the families he served, and in the countless lives he touched. His legacy isn’t just in the bricks of his buildings or the shelves of his stores, but in the spirit of entrepreneurship and kindness he inspired.
Communities like Walvis Bay are not built by governments or corporations, but by people like him, men and women who wake up each day determined to build, to serve, and to leave the world a little better than they found it.
And that, perhaps, is what makes his loss so deeply felt. It isn’t just the passing of a man; it’s the passing of a generation that believed in doing good quietly, in building legacy through loyalty, and in the idea that one’s true wealth lies in the lives one touches.
Farewell, uncle Savva
The shop lights may be dimmed, but your light endures. Walvis Bay will remember your laughter echoing through its streets, your compassion stitched into its fabric, and your courage reflected in every small business that dares to dream big.
You arrived a stranger, you left a legend, and in between, you became Namibia’s favourite uncle.
May the sea you loved so much carry your spirit gently home.
