The Dogg, Family bakground

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One of Namibia’s leading Kwaito stars, Morocky Mbwaluh, aka The Dogg, recently published his autobiography titled,Ther Dogg: Untold Story. As part of the reading culture campaign launched by the New Era Publication Corporation (NEPC) in conjunction with the Minister of Education, Honourable Dawid Namwandi, is serialising parts of this autobiography each Friday.

The  Dogg is Herero…

“People don’t know this, but Morocky is Herero, in fact we are from the Ovaherero tribe. We are grandchildren of the great Meme Lugambo Nepembe,” says Uncle Vilho Kandalipo Kalambi.

Meme Lugambo Nepembe and her family lived in Kaokoland, in the land of the Ovaherero people. It is safe to say that they were communal farmers and heavily dependent on rain for their survival. Their migration from Kaokoland to Ovamboland was necessitated by the drought experienced as a result of poor rainfall. The family took up residence in Ongandjera, but Meme Lugambo had not yet settled.

She left her parents in Ongandjera and moved to Ondonga in her search for an area that had sufficient rain, hunger and the need to provide for her family remained the sole motives for her relocations and migrations. It is in Ondonga that she met the first husband, Tate Ngwedha. Their offspring were a boy named Hamushalo and two daughters, Emvula and Namunwe.

Namunwe married Nerago Angula and conceived two children, Nandjala and Nakanyala Angula. Emvula, in her first marriage to Amakali, was blessed with two daughters, Luoise Elenge and Anna Mutundu Amakali.

Her other two children, Simon and Ester, were conceived in her second marriage to Nakapera.

Of the seven children Meme Anna Amakali conceived in her marriage to Vilho Iyambo Amaambo, Niilonga Ester emerges as the grandmother of Morocky Mbwaluh (The Dogg) and fellow musician Kiljon Ihepa Ngwedha, commonly known as Killa-B. She was married to David Tobias Kalambi.

It is also worth noting that Johannes Iyambo, father of the Hon. Minister Dr Nicky Iyambo is one of Meme Anna Amakali’s children.

Meme Niilonga Ester Vilho had nine children of whom the now retired Namibian Defence Force (NDF) Regimental Sergeant, Major Daniel Natangwe Kondunda, was her first born, and Adina Kalambi, Killa-B’s mother, the last born.

Sheetheni Moses Kalambi passed away at a very young age, and had no offspring. Except him, the remaining offspring of Meme Niilonga  Ester, all have children, with Uncle Vilho topping the list with  52 (fifty-two children), six of whom are listed in the family tree. He was married to the late Ruusa Magano Michael, and their six children and I grew up together.

The late Maria Foibe Nandigolo Kalambi had two children from her first marriage to Mr Shafooli, not forgetting that her first born passed away after birth. Bruce ‘Doe’ Shafooli and Monica Ndiina Shafooli are their legacy. In 1980, my mother met Dr Martin Mbwaluh in Zambia and the couple was blessed with a daughter and son, Helena Magano Mbwaluh and me, Morocky Mbwaluh.

The Passing away of my parents

My family stayed in Windhoek and I lived in Onayena village in the north of the country. Being the lastborn, my mother made it a point to visit me regularly during the school holidays. At times, I was the one travelling and had to go to visit her in Windhoek. These were the happiest times of my childhood as I would not only have my mother’s attention, but Magano and Ndiina were the best sisters I could ask for.

In 1995, when I was 12-years-old, my mother was hospitalised for about a month in the Windhoek Central Hospital. For some reason, they transferred her to the Onandjokwe State Hospital in the North. This was within reach of our family, most of whom lived in the area

During her hospitalisation at Onandjokwe State Hospital, I remember a group of us, children, also being taken along to the hospital for a visit.

For some reason, the children, me included, were not allowed into the rooms of the patients. Because of this, I never got to share any moments with my mother during her last living days. Despite this, the area were we remained was close enough for us to realise this specific division accommodated people who were seriously ill. A patient, probably suffering from the same disease as my mother, who was reduced to skin and bones, lay on a bed partly covered in linen. This person seemed to have gone crazy and was saying senseless things like “leave me alone” while no one was holding her, yelling out to people and at times talking to herself. Being a bunch of kids at that time, we made fun of her. I was quite young, but I cannot rule out a part of me realizing my mother’s hospitalization was serious. (To be continued next Friday)

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