It has been a week that reminded us how much can happen in a small country with a big heart. Namibia repaid its US$750 eurobond, which is the largest loan payment in our history, and the whole world took notice. Two learners painted their faces black on Halloween and used a word that should have been buried long ago, and the whole country felt the sting of our unfinished conversations about race. According to a report, the number of independent candidates in this year’s regional and local authority elections has decreased by 26% since 2020, prompting young voters to question if hope is merely a fleeting trend.
It has been a week of reflection. And as young people, I am sure we have felt the weight of it all, not just the news itself, but the stories beneath the headlines. The lessons. The reminders. The quiet call for us, as young Namibians, to stay awake.
When Namibia made that historic debt repayment, it was not just a financial milestone. It was a signal of maturity.
The kind that says, “We are growing up as a nation.” For years we have talked about debt and deficit like permanent fixtures in our story. To finally say, “We paid what we owed,” is to stand taller in the global room. It is also a message to us, the youth, that financial discipline matters. Whether it is a country settling its bond or a young professional paying off a loan, responsibility is never glamorous, but it is powerful.
What struck me most was the calmness of it all. No drama, no panic, just quiet action. Maybe that is the kind of energy our generation needs now: less noise, more substance.
Then came the Halloween incident, and everything felt noisy again. Anger. Disbelief. Conversations online that cut deep and exposed old wounds. It reminded us that ignorance can still dress itself up as a joke.
As painful as it was, it showed why we cannot skip the hard lessons of history. It reminded us that respect is not instinctive and that it can be taught, learnt and practised. Every generation must decide whether it will repeat mistakes or heal from them. For the youth, that means choosing empathy over mockery and curiosity over carelessness.
I read so many comments saying, “They are just kids.” But that is exactly why it matters. Because if children learn cruelty early, they will grow into adults who normalise it. And if children learn awareness early, they will grow into leaders who protect it.
And then there was politics, which is always our favourite national drama. The report about the decline in independent candidates hit differently. It showed how excitement without structure eventually runs out of breath. In 2020, we were so alive with possibility. Independents felt like the revolution we had been waiting for. Five years later, reality has humbled us.
But maybe that is not failure. Maybe it is evolution. Maybe the real lesson is that democracy cannot be built on hashtags and hope alone. It needs stamina. It needs organisation. It needs people who are willing to do the slow work even when the crowd moves on.
Young people must learn that politics is not a trend. It is a test of patience. The loudest candidate is not always the most effective one. Change requires more than a moment. Change requires a movement, and movements take time.
Beyond the headlines, I think about the quiet struggles that never trend. The young graduate is sending out job applications and getting no reply. The mother sells food outside offices while her electricity meter blinks red. The student who scrolls through success stories online and feels like life has left them behind.
These are the real stories of our generation. The stories that do not always make it into reports or press releases. They are the stories of survival and small victories. They remind us that progress in Namibia does not always look like breaking news. Sometimes it looks like keeping faith when you have every reason to give up.
That question has echoed in my mind all week. Will we be the generation that only reacts to scandals or the one that learns from them? Will we be the generation that complains about leadership or the one that becomes it?
The answers are not found on social media but in what we do when no one is watching. In how we spend our time, how we treat each other and how we prepare for the future we keep talking about.
The truth is, we are still becoming. And becoming is messy. We will stumble, we will overreact, and we will learn. But as long as we keep learning, we are growing.
This week has reminded us that the price of freedom is not just paid in wars or elections; it is paid in awareness. The moment we stop paying attention, we start losing ground. When we let ignorance pass unchecked, when we laugh at racism, when we ignore the value of responsibility, we chip away at the very progress we inherited.
But when we learn, reflect, and act with care, we build a democracy that is not perfect but alive, a youth culture that is not cynical but hopeful, and a future that is not borrowed but owned.
This coming week let us pay attention. To your money, your country, your words and your growth. Every headline has a lesson. Every mistake has a message. Every choice shapes the nation we are building.
We have inherited a country that is trying its best to stand tall. Let us do the same.
