PAUL T. SHIPALE (with inputs by Folito Nghitongovali Diawara Gaspar)
When Frantz Fanon died in 1961 at the age of thirty-six, he left behind no army, no party, no flag, only words. Yet those words ignited the conscience of a continent and became the moral compass of an awakening people.
As Angola celebrates fifty years of independence, we are not merely marking the passage of time. We are standing before a mirror. In that mirror, we see our history, the courage, the pain, and the triumph, but we must also ask, what have we done with the vision that brought us this freedom?
As both Angola and Unisa in South Africa honoured the posthumous legacy of our Founding Father Sam Nujoma, Namibia’s first president, we are reminded that vision without transformation is illusion, and independence without consciousness is merely a new kind of dependency.
Liberation as a living question Fanon’s prophecy
Fanon never sought applause; he demanded accountability. His words in The Wretched of the Earth still pierce like lightning: “Each generation must, out of relative obscurity, discover its mission, fulfil it, or betray it.” But how many of us still ask what that mission truly is? Has liberation become merely a chapter in a schoolbook, or does it live in our choices, ethics, and sense of collective purpose?
In Black Skin, White Masks, Fanon diagnosed the sickness of colonialism not only in the structures of power but also in the architecture of the soul. He revealed how oppression teaches the oppressed to doubt their own worth and how chains are worn not only on wrists but also within minds.
Leaders like Amílcar Cabral, Agostinho Neto, Sam Nujoma and Samora Machel understood this. They did not seek to replace white faces with black ones; they sought to replace domination with dignity. They recognised that liberation without self-knowledge is simply a new form of bondage.
From theory to struggle
Fanon was no armchair philosopher. He lived and died in the furnace of resistance, serving with Algeria’s FLN and healing the wounded even as he wrote about the wounded spirit of the colonised.
His words crossed the Sahara and reached the minds of young revolutionaries in Angola, where the MPLA carried forward a vision of not only political freedom but human renewal. Agostinho Neto, the poet-physician, gave poetic voice to Fanon’s belief that revolution must solve the people’s problems, not merely replace one elite with another.
Across the border, in Namibia, Fanon made an impact with his writings, as it was in Algeria that we got our first weapons: two “Pepesha” submachine guns and two TT Russian-made pistols. Sam Nujoma and the SWAPO movement embodied Fanon’s conviction that freedom must be taken, not granted. Nujoma’s long struggle was not just for Namibia; it was for Africa’s moral redemption. His discipline, humility, and unwavering Pan-African vision reminded us that leadership is not a position; it is a mission. As Angola supported Namibia’s liberation, the two nations forged a bond of shared destiny. The same fire that Fanon lit in the pages of his books found reflection in the trenches of Southern Africa.
The test of the 50th-year vision and responsibility
Now, fifty years after independence, Angola stands at a crossroads that Fanon foresaw. He warned that postcolonial elites might inherit the colonial apparatus without dismantling its logic, and that slogans of liberation might outlive the spirit of liberation.
So let us ask ourselves, candidly:
• Have we transformed our freedom into justice?
• Have we converted independence into opportunity?
• Has our vision grown with our sovereignty, or have we allowed the fire to dim beneath comfort, corruption, and complacency?
For what is independence if the people remain dependent on systems that define their worth in foreign terms? What is sovereignty if our imagination remains colonised by fear, greed, or imitation?
These are not easy questions, but they are necessary ones, the kind Fanon and Nujoma would have wanted us to confront.
Culture as the soul of liberation
Fanon taught that culture is not folklore; it is resistance. It is the spiritual infrastructure of freedom.
Over the past fifty years, Angola’s cultural renaissance – its music, art, cinema, and literature – has testified to that truth. Yet culture is also where complacency can creep in when power forgets its purpose. To commemorate fifty years of independence without renewing the creative soul of the nation is to turn memory into museum dust.
So we must ask again, are we still producing the kind of art, thought, and leadership that challenge us to become better Africans, or have we begun celebrating our past so loudly that we can no longer hear the call of our future?
The Pan-African continuum from Nujoma to the next generation
The legacies of Fanon and Nujoma remind us that liberation is a chain of visionaries, each link bound by faith in humanity’s capacity to rise. Nujoma did not dream only of a free Namibia; he envisioned a free Africa. His friendship with Angolan leaders from Neto to Dos Santos symbolised a generation that believed solidarity was a sacred duty.
Today, that Pan-African spirit must be rekindled. For if independence divided us into nations, vision must unite us into destiny. Etunda Farm Primary School stands as a beacon of hope amidst misused abundance. Indeed, we have just witnessed the official handover of the Etunda Farm Primary School project to the government, as in the heart of the Otjozondjupa Region, some 30 km south of Otavi, rises a vision turned reality. Born from the foresight of founding President Sam Shafiishuna Nujoma, this institution stands not just as a school but as a testament to what leadership guided by purpose can achieve.
A vision beyond wealth
The land for the school was generously donated by President Nujoma, 15 hectares valued at N$ 25 million, a gesture reflecting his unwavering commitment to the education of every Namibian child. This school was meant for the children of farm workers, for those whose potential had long been overlooked in rural landscapes, and for a community too often neglected.
Many have benefited from the richness of the farms, yet many still possess them today, but too often, these lands serve personal luxury rather than the nation’s collective interest. Against this backdrop, Etunda Farm Primary School shines as a symbol of selfless purpose, a place where resources are transformed into opportunity and where privilege is measured not by possession but by the good one creates for others.
Foundations of learning and care
Etunda Farm Primary School will serve Grades 1 through 7, providing a full primary education to children from surrounding communities. Its facilities – modern classrooms, boys’ and girls’ dormitories, teachers’ housing, a dining hall, a kitchen, ablution areas, and recreational areas – have been designed to nurture not only minds but also hearts. Adjacent to the school, a clinic ensures that learning and health walk hand in hand, cultivating a holistic environment for growth.
Handover and lasting impact
The school and its clinic were officially handed over to the Namibian government, ensuring that these institutions serve generations to come. This handover was more than a ceremonial act; it is a pledge that hope, equity, and opportunity can endure.
A symbol for rural empowerment
Etunda Farm Primary School is a model for rural development. It demonstrates how strategic land donations, public-private partnerships, and community commitment can transform mere resources into instruments of national progress. In contrast to farms misused for private luxury, the school embodies a higher calling: turning wealth into knowledge, privilege into purpose, and land into a cradle for the nation’s future.
Through this school, Founding President Nujoma’s legacy continues to illuminate a path toward equity and empowerment. Thus, Etunda Farm Primary School is not only a building; it is a beacon of hope, a declaration that when vision meets action, even the most overlooked corners of a nation can flourish. Nujoma is not just integrity but brinkmanship and foresightedness! We are happy that we finally handed over the school he built for what others are now calling “indigenous people”. Let this school be the beacon of hope and a shining light for future leaders!
Let it testify what true, genuine leadership is all about and not just pleasing a circle of friends and family, and if we have to remember only some names, let us not forget Peter Mweshihange, who was the first to join the Founding Father in exile! Let us not forget Maxton Joseph Mutongolume, who was based in Botswana recruiting those who were going to work in South Africa. Let us remember Dr Iyambo Indongo, Peter Nanyemba, Nacada Kashikololo, Patrick Iyambo Yalombweleni, Brendan Simbwaye, Greenwell Matongo, Nathanael Maxuilili, David Meroro, and Moses Garoeb, who didn’t hesitate to join the founding father fresh from a university in the USA and became his chief administrator. Others were Ben Amathila, John ya Otto, Theo Ben Gurirab, Ngarikutuke Tjiriange, Liberitine Amadhila, Dr Nikey Iyambo, Peter Katjavivi, Helao Vinia Ndadi, and many others.
Let us not create dynasty politics but remember everyone in this country! I remember going from Tsumeb to Olukonda, then Olunghono, where I spent some time, then went on foot to Eenhana at Pastor Kashihakumwa’s, then to the Headman of Onakalunga, then Okongo, and later Oshitumba, Cassinga, Jamba, Hainyeko, Oshivemba, Kwanza Norte and Kwanza Sul, Dalatando, Cuba, Zambia at UNIN, France, and the Caribbean Islands or West Indies in St Lucia. Thus, one can’t say I was not part of the liberation struggle since I joined in 1977 when I was just nine or ten years old!
We must return to Fanon’s central question: what kind of new human being are we becoming? Fifty years of Angola’s independence demand not only celebration but also introspection; not only memory but also mission.
The fire that still burns
Fanon gave Africa more than philosophy; he gave it a mirror. In that mirror, we see Nkrumah’s speeches, Neto’s poems, Cabral’s discipline, Machel’s courage, and Nujoma’s integrity, all reflections of one fire: the will to reclaim our humanity.
As Angola celebrates its golden jubilee and honours the spirit of Nujoma, we must ask: Do we still carry that fire, or are we only tending its ashes? “Each generation must, out of relative obscurity, discover its mission, fulfil it, or betray it.” The generation of Neto and Nujoma fulfilled theirs through sacrifice. Ours must fulfil it through vision.
Fanon’s flame still burns, not in statues or ceremonies, but in the heart of every African who refuses to surrender to cynicism, who believes that freedom is unfinished, and who understands that real vision is the most revolutionary act of all.
Disclaimer: The opinions expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of our employers or this newspaper but solely our personal views as citizens and Pan-Africanists.
