Back then when I was a boy in Walvis Bay – an obedient sweet boy – I took to heart every word my pale white Klein Karoo Afrikaner teacher by the name of Meneer Vermaak told me.
To add salt to injury, my old lady supported the notion that I must listen to my teachers especially the “white ones because they are very clever”. And silly me, I believed every word I was fed. So much so that I needed no assurance to be told otherwise that I was not a “Wamboe”, and according to Meneer Vermaak “Ek was n goeie mens, maar nie n Wamboe nie.” – damn good hypnotics.
The writing is not about the Afrikaner and his socio-culture demographics but rather about “black inferiority complex”.
This took my mind back to a very controversial statement (albeit true in a way) on how things done by our pale skinned brothers are always top notch.
The thing that spurs me on is the Afrikaner way of doing things, always proper, well controlled and organised, you know. Everybody ends up happy.
Before you crucify me, I did not invent the statement, it was just impressed on me by my granny and to a large extent by Dr Joe Diescho plumb-good natured rhetoric’s about black inferiority complex. And that is what I am talking about, how come we always think that stuff made by our white bro’s always superior.
Our society has gone to great lengths in glorifying wrong things. I grew with the impression that anything white is good and anything black is bad. Damn stupid if you ask me. It was hypnotics at its best, what else can it be if any black girl on the street wants to play with a pink Barbie Doll, as opposed to a Riccofy coloured doll. Come to think of it, does Toy World sell any of the black dolls?
The inferiority doldrums extend well across the sexual divide. Ask any Windhoek lady to purchase any “Black Like Me products” – she tells you outright “it is not good for my skin”. I usually prefer Este Lauder and Revlon products. Hello! … Last time I checked you had a black like me skin. For your own information sister, Black Like Me products are the brainchild of a man with no matric in South Africa.
So in “Mbashu’s” of Katutura, I heard fellow boozers say why white man’s goods are always better.
You see, recently one brother got himself wheels through a loan from a local bank, which referred him to a local dealer. The dealer referred him to an insurance guy, who signed him up and gave him a free petrol voucher with a fuel centre in the city. Now needless to mention all them dealers are white.
And my black brother for defence says, “Wherever you look it is just white – so if you can’t beat them join them – and make them rich.”
Man, the examples are a pity and reasoning lousy, “Kako I won’t sleep in a black man’s lodge rather pay double, I will sleep at the one across and it is white-owned. There is no way in hell that I am buying anything second-hand from a black man, I rather get my used wheels from a white lady, they take such good care of their cars than average neat black man”.
I tell you what I called it; it is a black weakness complex and damn good low esteem gratification. So yeah, thumps up to our white brothers, they offer good service, not so good prices always and here and there absolute monopoly. But it does not mean that the okes are exceptionally good in what they do. It is a simple fact of economics, demand and supply, good dose of advertising, proper marketing and persuasive binge buying, that’s it you have me hooked for eternity.
On the other hand, what my ebony chocolate skin should realise is that, it is not about quality but about choices and options. Unfortunately, we tend to opt for the most expensive, lavish, glamorous and white-produced products. Like I said, it is a choice and not an option.
So beat it and stop humiliating yourself blackman, everyone can do anything you just need to put your mind to it. A good businessman remains a good businessman no matter what colour.
My comment of note to one letter, thank you for your words of encouragement. I take pleasure in knowing that you read this column, your comments are valued if not Sorry Ngo for my sake.