“It was supposed to be harmless fun.”
The above statement were the sentiments of some when two white learners painted their faces black during a Halloween celebration and referred to themselves using a derogatory term that carries the weight of centuries of humiliation. They laughed, others laughed, and photos found their way onto social media. Within hours, and inevitably so, outrage followed. What many called a joke quickly revealed how fragile our peace still is and how easily the past can walk into the present dressed as a costume.
For a country that prides itself on reconciliation and unity, this incident struck a nerve. It forced young Namibians to ask uncomfortable questions about what we know, what we ignore and what we are still willing to excuse. The act was not just offensive; it was symbolic of something deeper.
To understand why this incident hurts so deeply, we must understand history. The racial slur used by the learners goes beyond just a word. It was once a weapon, a label used to strip black people of dignity. It carries memories of exclusion and violence. Painting one’s skin to mimic another race while mocking their identity is not creativity; it is cruelty.
Young people today may not have lived through apartheid or colonial rule, but the emotional and social scars of that era are not gone. They live in the stories of our parents and grandparents. They live in the subtle inequalities we continually observe in the schools that remain divided by class, the neighbourhoods that reflect old separations, and the jokes that echo old stereotypes. When someone makes fun of blackness, they reopen wounds that were never fully healed.
Some might argue that the learners did not mean harm. They might say they were joking or that they did not understand the meaning of the word they used, but the truth is that ignorance does not equal innocence. In 2025, information is everywhere. The internet offers endless resources to learn about race, culture and sensitivity. In fact, this generation is considered one of the most sensitive and embracing of diversity. When young people choose to ignore that knowledge, it is not because they cannot learn; it is because they do not care enough to try.
While being young is often equated to being unaware, this generation is certainly anything but unaware. We are the most connected generation in human history. We read, watch and share content daily about justice, equality and representation. We know that racism is real. We know that blackface is offensive. Pretending otherwise is not naivety, it is avoidance.
Every racist incident has a root in what is taught and, more importantly, in what is left untaught. Schools are not only places of academic learning; they are spaces where values are shaped. When schools fail to discuss race, privilege and respect openly, silence fills the gap, and that gap is filled with lessons.
Teachers and parents have the responsibility to raise citizens who understand that diversity is not decoration; it is identity. Children should learn early that mocking another person’s culture or colour is not just rude but harmful. Respect must be taught as firmly as mathematics.
Families also carry a role. Conversations about equality and empathy must happen at home. Children repeat what they see and absorb what they hear. If prejudice lives in living rooms, it will find its way into classrooms. Healing begins with honesty, and honesty begins at home.
When the photos surfaced online, the reaction was swift. Some condemned the act, others defended it, and a few remained silent. Social media has become the new mirror of society. It reflects who we are and what we tolerate. While outrage can sometimes turn into digital chaos, in this case it served a purpose. It reminded everyone that racism, no matter how disguised, cannot go unchallenged.
Public accountability matters, especially in a young democracy. It is not about ruining lives; it is about recognising harm and demanding better. When people make racist choices, they must face the consequences not as punishment but as education. Learning from mistakes is part of growing up, but growth only happens when we face truth without excuses.
Young people hold more power than they realise. We shape culture. We decide what is funny, what is acceptable and what becomes viral. If we laugh at racist jokes, they will keep spreading. If we remain silent when others are mocked, silence becomes approval. If we call out ignorance with grace and firmness, we begin to change the script.
Being young is not an excuse to be careless; it is an opportunity to be conscious. The youth of Namibia have the privilege of freedom that earlier generations fought for. The least we can do is honour that freedom by treating one another with dignity.
Respect is not about political correctness. It is about humanity. It means recognising the weight of words and actions. It means understanding that pain does not disappear just because we choose to ignore it.
Blackness is not a costume to be worn and discarded. It is identity, history, pride and endurance. When someone paints their face black and turns it into a joke, they reduce centuries of struggle into entertainment. It is a form of erasure.
This incident can become a teachable moment if handled wisely. Schools can use it as a starting point for open dialogue about race, history and social responsibility. Discussions can be held in classrooms, assemblies and youth forums where students can ask questions and share experiences.
We cannot heal what we refuse to name. Pretending that racism is over only ensures that it survives quietly. The youth must lead these conversations, not just follow them. We have the language, the platforms and the energy to change how we see each other. Let us use them.
Anger is natural when injustice happens, but the goal is not to replace hate with more hate. True justice aims for understanding and transformation. Those involved in the incident should face consequences that educate, not destroy. Community service, diversity workshops or public apologies are meaningful ways to repair harm.
The point is not to humiliate individuals but to highlight how actions, however small, can hurt deeply. Accountability must be firm but fair. It must aim to build better citizens, not bitter ones.
Namibia’s youth stand at a crossroads. We can either inherit the quiet prejudices of our parents’ generation or create a new culture rooted in empathy. The choice is ours. The truth is, racism does not end through policies or slogans alone. It ends when ordinary people decide to see and treat each other differently.
This incident is not just about two learners. It is about us and about the biases we ignore, the jokes we excuse and the conversations we avoid. The world we build tomorrow will be shaped by what we tolerate today.
We, the youth, must be the generation that refuses to normalise ignorance. We cannot claim to love our country while disrespecting its people. True patriotism is not loud pride; it is quiet respect. It is knowing that the Namibia we dream of will only exist if we protect one another’s dignity as fiercely as we protect our freedom.
Let this incident be more than a scandal. Let it be a turning point. Let it push us to read more, listen more and speak with empathy. Let it remind us that progress is not automatic; it is built through awareness and courage.
We are the first generation with both the tools and the freedom to end cycles of prejudice. We can use social media to educate instead of humiliate, to celebrate diversity instead of mocking it and to hold ourselves accountable for the world we are shaping.
The learners may not have known the full meaning of what they did, but we know now. We cannot claim ignorance anymore. The question is no longer whether racism still exists; it is whether we will still allow it to breathe.
The answer should be simple. Not on our watch.
