Tuesday, 8 January 2013
Saturday, 29 December 2012
Future Dreams (Submission to the Commonwealth Writers Short Story Prize 2012)
“Love does not understand the concept of time.” said Simon as he took the drink I offered to him.
The sun was gliding behind the mountains to the west while we looked northwards over the golf course. I had purchased a piece of land on a golf estate some thirty kilometres south of Windhoek, the capital of Namibia. After many years of saving I had just finished building the house of my dreams. This was the first time I had the time to have a drink and appreciate the sacrifices I had made in my life to get here. Tomorrow, my wife and daughter would move in, today was for me.
Simon was an old friend of mine, and he often spent time telling me stories about the lives of the people around us. He is one of those people who often spends his time alone, but as he insists, he is never lonely. Perhaps, because he was often alone, his conversation normally started with a startling thought or quotation before telling his story.
“Do you know the one bullet theory?” he enquired from me. Then continued without giving me time to respond, “The theory holds that you can fall in love and make love many times but there is only one bullet with your name on it. And if you are lucky enough to be shot with that bullet then the wound never heals.”
We sat quietly thinking on these weighty words. I am sure Simon, like me, was remembering something from the past to fit into this theory.
“I recently bumped into Martin where he was having a coffee with Catherine. I was quite surprised to see them together as I did not know they were still friends after all these years. You remember their story don’t you?”
I have learnt long ago to let Simon tell his story in his own time which often meant listening rather than participating. So I just inclined my head lightly and frowned. This seemed to satisfy him that I was listening.
“Martin was born in Windhoek but spent most of his time growing up with his grandparents in Johannesburg after his mother passed away. He would often come to visit his father in Windhoek, and one could see he was taking part in the local games of the children, but he was always separate. Catherine was born in Cape Town and she had moved to Windhoek and she was staying with her Aunt after her father passed away. It is peculiar how they both lost parents at a young age and maybe that’s why their souls found an echo in each. Anyway, the first time I saw them they must have been about six or seven and it was a wedding. In those days you invited everyone in your neighbourhood to the reception. Those were the days,” he sighed
He fumbled with relighting his pipe and I could see he was reliving the days of his youth. Everything always seemed to have been better in ‘those days’.
Once his pipe was lit to his satisfaction he continued, “She was the little bridesmaid. Beautifully dressed in white and looking adorable. You know she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and even back then she stood out from all the other children even though she was always surrounded by friends. Martin was there too, but he was the exact opposite. He looked uncomfortable in his suit and had drifted off to the bottom of the garden where he was staring out into space.”
“I had just started smoking and had sneaked off to the bottom of the garden myself and could see him, but was sure he could not see me. As I was lighting my cigarette, I saw Catherine approaching down the steps to where he was sitting.”
“What are you doing here alone?” she asked him.
“I was wishing a special wish,” he replied
“And what was that?”
“I was wishing the beautiful girl dressed in white would be my friend.” Obviously growing up in Johannesburg had rubbed off on him already and he was too sure of himself.
“I watched them talking and could see the interest they had in each other but they were far too young and innocent to recognise Cupids arrow. Then someone called for us all to come together for a photograph and Catherine ran quickly back to where the bride and her entourage were waiting. I also made haste to re-join the group, but something made me look back to Martin. I saw him standing there looking towards the sunset and distinctly heard him say ‘One Day I will marry her’. I thought it rather cute at the time but never had occasion to think of it again till some years later.”
As a natural story-teller, you could easily pick up the non-verbal cues from Simon’s story. Not only the soft way he finished that last sentence, but also the rather significant look he gave our empty glasses was enough for me to go for a refill.
As he took the glass from my hand he continued, “I had quite forgotten about Martin until I saw him some ten years later. I was teaching at the high school when he returned to Windhoek. It was quite a scandal as he had come in the middle of the school year and all the students were soon aware that he had been in jail as a juvenile. Something about a bank card robbery if I remember it right.”
“There was nothing wrong with his intellect and as a teacher I had my work cut out for me. If Martin felt something was not clear to him, he would not think twice to stand up in class and ask me to repeat until he understood. Back then we still had caning as a punishment and he had his fair share. It was funny though, he often had a caning for being disruptive, but never for bad marks or breaking school rules.”
By this time the sun had set and the coals were just right for the springbok chops I had been marinating since yesterday. In the meantime, Simon started with the potjiekos in a black cast iron pot which allowed us to simmer the bosvark rugstring (the spine of a bushpig). It was turning into a typical summer evening in Africa. The heat was gone, the whiskey was good, the meat was plentiful and the story was mellow.
I refilled our glasses and we settled down around the fire.
“It was heart-wrenching to watch Martin that year. He was shunned by almost all his classmates and most parents warned their children not to make friends with him. I used to see him walk around the neighbourhood all alone, but he always had a smile on his face as if he understood some joke we all had missed. The only time I saw him serious was when he was watching the other students and Catherine was amongst them. The first time I saw him standing on the edge of the rugby field I wondered about the look on his face till I saw he only had eyes for Catherine. That’s when I remembered the wedding of years gone by and his conviction on his face when he had said those words, ‘One Day I will marry he’”. It was that same look he had on his face on the playground.”
“The One Bullet,” I interrupted him. “That’s what you meant by the One Bullet Theory.”
“Exactly,” Simon replied and went on with his story. “It was hard to watch him pine away on the edge of the crowd knowing he did not stand a chance. She was the most beautiful girl at the school, her foster parents were on the school board and he was a jailbird. It reminded me a bit of Romeo and Juliet and all those other doomed love stories.”
Knowing Simon so well I knew the next part of the story would involve him as part of the outcome. Or perhaps it was just the whiskey that emboldened me.
“So what did you do Simon?” I asked.
“Well, you seem to know me too well by now. I had also had a doomed relationship in my younger days and thought it would be balancing the scales if I took a hand to assist him. It’s funny now that I think back about it – I was not the only teacher that seemed to wish to make the match happen. You see Martin and Catherine were in different classes but the same grade. It was their last year of school and it seemed whenever a teacher sent a student from either of their classes to give a message to the teacher who was given class to the other, the two of them were always chosen as the messenger. At first it was hardly noticeable, but after a while it became obvious to me as the rest of the students in the class had come to notice it and tease the both of them about the other.”
Simon took another long pull of his whiskey before continuing.
“It’s funny. I have seen many students teased by their classmates but Martin’s reaction was very different. The more they teased him, the more he seemed to take it as a challenge. Rather than becoming embarrassed like most other teenagers, he seemed to take it as a badge of honour. Or maybe it was just the fact the other students were treating him as one of them.”
He eyed the lamb chops that were almost done.
“To cut a long story short, within one year of Martin being enrolled at the school he asked Catherine to be his girlfriend. You must imagine the surprise of the teachers and the students when she agreed. Till they became a couple, no girl was interested in Martin at all. He went from zero to hero and he deserved it, no, I should rather say they deserved each other. Together they started a school newspaper, brought together a drama group and won all the national competitions that year. At their Matric farewell I had a feeling déjà vu – I had seen them looking the same at that wedding of many years before – she in a white dress and him in a blue suit.”
“Like all love stories it was doomed from the start. I had no small blame for the break-up,” he said and finished his drink. “Let us eat before those lamb chops become too dry.”
This was the cue to sit down for dinner. We took our plates and piled it high with lamb chops, bush pig stew and “Baster poeding” – our local version of potato salad. After grace we ate our food in companionable silence. One thing you can say for us Namibians, we enjoy our food and do not waste time talking when there is something important to do.
After dinner, I made us a cup of coffee and made myself ready to hear the rest of the story. Simon, like most Namibians believed a story must take time to its conclusion and would never finish it before dinner. After all, a good story is made much better after one has a full stomach.
“Martin came to see me early the next year after the examinations results had been posted. He was greatly troubled as he had passed with flying colours and the Catherine had not made the grade. He wished to study further and had received a bursary while she would have to get a job as her foster parents had disowned her and she was on her own. He had come to me for advice and that was probably the wrong thing to do.”
Simon got quiet for a while and then started filling his pipe. I knew the silence was him pretending to relive the moment again while the pipe filling was part of his excuse to get me involved in his story.
“So what was troubling him?” I obliged.
“He wished to become part of the student uprising that was agitating for Independence and he knew what the sacrifice might demand from him. For him it was straight forward, either he would stay involved with Catherine or participate in the struggle. He could not have both and nothing I said could change his mind.”
At this point I had to interrupt. “What year was this? I vaguely remember the students boycotting classes and making things difficult for the South African apartheid regime. Was Martin not one of the leaders that were arrested?”
“That’s right. It was 1988 and the internal struggle for Independence was reaching its zenith. The students were becoming more political aware and Martin and his friends were organising the students into specific actions to make the occupying regime take notice. They were boycotting classes and toi toiying (dancing in the streets as a sign of rebellion). But we are getting ahead of the story.”
I sat back and allowed Simon to continue.
“Where was I? Yes, Martin made his decision. He did not want to get old and blame Catherine for not being able to do what he though was his duty. His love for his country and the people was more important than his love for her. I don’t know how he broke up with her but it was hard on both of them.”
He suddenly changed the topic, “Why don’t you bring that bottle of whiskey closer? I think I can do with a stronger coffee.”
I fetched the bottle and put it down between us. Simon poured himself a shot of whiskey in his coffee and offered me the bottle. I politely declined and waited for him to continue.
“I had encouraged him in his studies of Marx and African liberationists and understood his need to participate. I should have tried harder to convince him to think of himself. The sad part was that within two years the situation had changed so drastically and the South African regime left Namibia to get Independence in 1990. Martin had done what he thought was necessary and was rewarded by being the student chosen to raise the new flag the morning of Independence, but at what personal cost?”
“The choices we make can only be understood in hindsight. That’s how life is,” I answered even though I knew it was rhetorical question.
It seemed Simon had not heard me as he continued, “I followed his career and read he got married a few years later and became the Namibian trade representative to Paris, France. Unfortunately he got divorced later and I had not seen or heard from him in over ten years. Apparently he had given up the capitalist life and became a recluse writer and general beach bum. Catherine meanwhile had fallen pregnant shortly after they break up and married the father. Her marriage was short lived, but her career really took off. She studied nights and became a lawyer.”
I could hear the note of melancholy creeping into his voice. I wondered how many times he had thought of this story and wished he could have done things differently. Simon finished his coffee and slowly stood up to get a refill. He slowly sat down and as quiet for a long time.
I did not like to see Simon like this and tried to get him out of his musing.
“So you saw Catherine and Martin having coffee together?”
“Yes,” he replied. “They had bumped into each other and decided to catch up on each other’s lives. I could see they were still uncomfortable being with each and left very quickly. Perhaps I also felt a little guilty at the decision Martin had made.”
He chuckled rather cynically and shook his head as if to clear his head.
I remembered his opening remarks and inquired, “What did you mean when you said ‘Love does not understand the concept of time’ when you started the story?”
Simon slowly topped his cup of coffee with a shot of whiskey before wistfully answering me, "I looked back at them as left and I could see they were talking in the present about their past, but their souls were already sharing their future dreams."
The sun was gliding behind the mountains to the west while we looked northwards over the golf course. I had purchased a piece of land on a golf estate some thirty kilometres south of Windhoek, the capital of Namibia. After many years of saving I had just finished building the house of my dreams. This was the first time I had the time to have a drink and appreciate the sacrifices I had made in my life to get here. Tomorrow, my wife and daughter would move in, today was for me.
Simon was an old friend of mine, and he often spent time telling me stories about the lives of the people around us. He is one of those people who often spends his time alone, but as he insists, he is never lonely. Perhaps, because he was often alone, his conversation normally started with a startling thought or quotation before telling his story.
“Do you know the one bullet theory?” he enquired from me. Then continued without giving me time to respond, “The theory holds that you can fall in love and make love many times but there is only one bullet with your name on it. And if you are lucky enough to be shot with that bullet then the wound never heals.”
We sat quietly thinking on these weighty words. I am sure Simon, like me, was remembering something from the past to fit into this theory.
“I recently bumped into Martin where he was having a coffee with Catherine. I was quite surprised to see them together as I did not know they were still friends after all these years. You remember their story don’t you?”
I have learnt long ago to let Simon tell his story in his own time which often meant listening rather than participating. So I just inclined my head lightly and frowned. This seemed to satisfy him that I was listening.
“Martin was born in Windhoek but spent most of his time growing up with his grandparents in Johannesburg after his mother passed away. He would often come to visit his father in Windhoek, and one could see he was taking part in the local games of the children, but he was always separate. Catherine was born in Cape Town and she had moved to Windhoek and she was staying with her Aunt after her father passed away. It is peculiar how they both lost parents at a young age and maybe that’s why their souls found an echo in each. Anyway, the first time I saw them they must have been about six or seven and it was a wedding. In those days you invited everyone in your neighbourhood to the reception. Those were the days,” he sighed
He fumbled with relighting his pipe and I could see he was reliving the days of his youth. Everything always seemed to have been better in ‘those days’.
Once his pipe was lit to his satisfaction he continued, “She was the little bridesmaid. Beautifully dressed in white and looking adorable. You know she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and even back then she stood out from all the other children even though she was always surrounded by friends. Martin was there too, but he was the exact opposite. He looked uncomfortable in his suit and had drifted off to the bottom of the garden where he was staring out into space.”
“I had just started smoking and had sneaked off to the bottom of the garden myself and could see him, but was sure he could not see me. As I was lighting my cigarette, I saw Catherine approaching down the steps to where he was sitting.”
“What are you doing here alone?” she asked him.
“I was wishing a special wish,” he replied
“And what was that?”
“I was wishing the beautiful girl dressed in white would be my friend.” Obviously growing up in Johannesburg had rubbed off on him already and he was too sure of himself.
“I watched them talking and could see the interest they had in each other but they were far too young and innocent to recognise Cupids arrow. Then someone called for us all to come together for a photograph and Catherine ran quickly back to where the bride and her entourage were waiting. I also made haste to re-join the group, but something made me look back to Martin. I saw him standing there looking towards the sunset and distinctly heard him say ‘One Day I will marry her’. I thought it rather cute at the time but never had occasion to think of it again till some years later.”
As a natural story-teller, you could easily pick up the non-verbal cues from Simon’s story. Not only the soft way he finished that last sentence, but also the rather significant look he gave our empty glasses was enough for me to go for a refill.
As he took the glass from my hand he continued, “I had quite forgotten about Martin until I saw him some ten years later. I was teaching at the high school when he returned to Windhoek. It was quite a scandal as he had come in the middle of the school year and all the students were soon aware that he had been in jail as a juvenile. Something about a bank card robbery if I remember it right.”
“There was nothing wrong with his intellect and as a teacher I had my work cut out for me. If Martin felt something was not clear to him, he would not think twice to stand up in class and ask me to repeat until he understood. Back then we still had caning as a punishment and he had his fair share. It was funny though, he often had a caning for being disruptive, but never for bad marks or breaking school rules.”
By this time the sun had set and the coals were just right for the springbok chops I had been marinating since yesterday. In the meantime, Simon started with the potjiekos in a black cast iron pot which allowed us to simmer the bosvark rugstring (the spine of a bushpig). It was turning into a typical summer evening in Africa. The heat was gone, the whiskey was good, the meat was plentiful and the story was mellow.
I refilled our glasses and we settled down around the fire.
“It was heart-wrenching to watch Martin that year. He was shunned by almost all his classmates and most parents warned their children not to make friends with him. I used to see him walk around the neighbourhood all alone, but he always had a smile on his face as if he understood some joke we all had missed. The only time I saw him serious was when he was watching the other students and Catherine was amongst them. The first time I saw him standing on the edge of the rugby field I wondered about the look on his face till I saw he only had eyes for Catherine. That’s when I remembered the wedding of years gone by and his conviction on his face when he had said those words, ‘One Day I will marry he’”. It was that same look he had on his face on the playground.”
“The One Bullet,” I interrupted him. “That’s what you meant by the One Bullet Theory.”
“Exactly,” Simon replied and went on with his story. “It was hard to watch him pine away on the edge of the crowd knowing he did not stand a chance. She was the most beautiful girl at the school, her foster parents were on the school board and he was a jailbird. It reminded me a bit of Romeo and Juliet and all those other doomed love stories.”
Knowing Simon so well I knew the next part of the story would involve him as part of the outcome. Or perhaps it was just the whiskey that emboldened me.
“So what did you do Simon?” I asked.
“Well, you seem to know me too well by now. I had also had a doomed relationship in my younger days and thought it would be balancing the scales if I took a hand to assist him. It’s funny now that I think back about it – I was not the only teacher that seemed to wish to make the match happen. You see Martin and Catherine were in different classes but the same grade. It was their last year of school and it seemed whenever a teacher sent a student from either of their classes to give a message to the teacher who was given class to the other, the two of them were always chosen as the messenger. At first it was hardly noticeable, but after a while it became obvious to me as the rest of the students in the class had come to notice it and tease the both of them about the other.”
Simon took another long pull of his whiskey before continuing.
“It’s funny. I have seen many students teased by their classmates but Martin’s reaction was very different. The more they teased him, the more he seemed to take it as a challenge. Rather than becoming embarrassed like most other teenagers, he seemed to take it as a badge of honour. Or maybe it was just the fact the other students were treating him as one of them.”
He eyed the lamb chops that were almost done.
“To cut a long story short, within one year of Martin being enrolled at the school he asked Catherine to be his girlfriend. You must imagine the surprise of the teachers and the students when she agreed. Till they became a couple, no girl was interested in Martin at all. He went from zero to hero and he deserved it, no, I should rather say they deserved each other. Together they started a school newspaper, brought together a drama group and won all the national competitions that year. At their Matric farewell I had a feeling déjà vu – I had seen them looking the same at that wedding of many years before – she in a white dress and him in a blue suit.”
“Like all love stories it was doomed from the start. I had no small blame for the break-up,” he said and finished his drink. “Let us eat before those lamb chops become too dry.”
This was the cue to sit down for dinner. We took our plates and piled it high with lamb chops, bush pig stew and “Baster poeding” – our local version of potato salad. After grace we ate our food in companionable silence. One thing you can say for us Namibians, we enjoy our food and do not waste time talking when there is something important to do.
After dinner, I made us a cup of coffee and made myself ready to hear the rest of the story. Simon, like most Namibians believed a story must take time to its conclusion and would never finish it before dinner. After all, a good story is made much better after one has a full stomach.
“Martin came to see me early the next year after the examinations results had been posted. He was greatly troubled as he had passed with flying colours and the Catherine had not made the grade. He wished to study further and had received a bursary while she would have to get a job as her foster parents had disowned her and she was on her own. He had come to me for advice and that was probably the wrong thing to do.”
Simon got quiet for a while and then started filling his pipe. I knew the silence was him pretending to relive the moment again while the pipe filling was part of his excuse to get me involved in his story.
“So what was troubling him?” I obliged.
“He wished to become part of the student uprising that was agitating for Independence and he knew what the sacrifice might demand from him. For him it was straight forward, either he would stay involved with Catherine or participate in the struggle. He could not have both and nothing I said could change his mind.”
At this point I had to interrupt. “What year was this? I vaguely remember the students boycotting classes and making things difficult for the South African apartheid regime. Was Martin not one of the leaders that were arrested?”
“That’s right. It was 1988 and the internal struggle for Independence was reaching its zenith. The students were becoming more political aware and Martin and his friends were organising the students into specific actions to make the occupying regime take notice. They were boycotting classes and toi toiying (dancing in the streets as a sign of rebellion). But we are getting ahead of the story.”
I sat back and allowed Simon to continue.
“Where was I? Yes, Martin made his decision. He did not want to get old and blame Catherine for not being able to do what he though was his duty. His love for his country and the people was more important than his love for her. I don’t know how he broke up with her but it was hard on both of them.”
He suddenly changed the topic, “Why don’t you bring that bottle of whiskey closer? I think I can do with a stronger coffee.”
I fetched the bottle and put it down between us. Simon poured himself a shot of whiskey in his coffee and offered me the bottle. I politely declined and waited for him to continue.
“I had encouraged him in his studies of Marx and African liberationists and understood his need to participate. I should have tried harder to convince him to think of himself. The sad part was that within two years the situation had changed so drastically and the South African regime left Namibia to get Independence in 1990. Martin had done what he thought was necessary and was rewarded by being the student chosen to raise the new flag the morning of Independence, but at what personal cost?”
“The choices we make can only be understood in hindsight. That’s how life is,” I answered even though I knew it was rhetorical question.
It seemed Simon had not heard me as he continued, “I followed his career and read he got married a few years later and became the Namibian trade representative to Paris, France. Unfortunately he got divorced later and I had not seen or heard from him in over ten years. Apparently he had given up the capitalist life and became a recluse writer and general beach bum. Catherine meanwhile had fallen pregnant shortly after they break up and married the father. Her marriage was short lived, but her career really took off. She studied nights and became a lawyer.”
I could hear the note of melancholy creeping into his voice. I wondered how many times he had thought of this story and wished he could have done things differently. Simon finished his coffee and slowly stood up to get a refill. He slowly sat down and as quiet for a long time.
I did not like to see Simon like this and tried to get him out of his musing.
“So you saw Catherine and Martin having coffee together?”
“Yes,” he replied. “They had bumped into each other and decided to catch up on each other’s lives. I could see they were still uncomfortable being with each and left very quickly. Perhaps I also felt a little guilty at the decision Martin had made.”
He chuckled rather cynically and shook his head as if to clear his head.
I remembered his opening remarks and inquired, “What did you mean when you said ‘Love does not understand the concept of time’ when you started the story?”
Simon slowly topped his cup of coffee with a shot of whiskey before wistfully answering me, "I looked back at them as left and I could see they were talking in the present about their past, but their souls were already sharing their future dreams."
Friday, 14 December 2012
Consumer Rights are Human Rights
The past week we celebrated the “Old Location Uprising” which coincides with Human Rights on 10 December. On Monday evening there was a discussion on NBC television that was discussing the topic and specifically what was referred to as second and third generation rights. It is important for people to understand these rights and the institutions that are responsible for protection their rights.
Human rights are traditionally divided into two main groups, namely –
• civil and political rights, and
• economic, social and cultural (ESC) rights (also referred to as second and third generation rights).
In Namibia, since Independence, most people can freely exercise and enjoy the fundamental rights and freedoms recognised and protected in the Bill of Rights entrenched in the Constitution of the Republic of Namibia (Chapter3), most of which are civil and political rights. But how many people enjoy or even are aware of their Economic, Social and Consumer rights? ESC rights play an important role in people’s standard of living and should play a greater role in improving people’s opportunities in life.
A literal interpretation of the Constitution would thus let us understand that some, but not all, consumer protection issues are considered rights.
John Nakuta, in his paper, “The justiciability of social, economic and cultural rights in Namibia and the role of the nongovernmental organisations”, argues that ESC rights can be enforced both directly under the Namibian Constitution through Article 144 of the Constitution, which reads as follows:
Unless otherwise provided for by this Constitution or Act of Parliament, the general rules of public international law and international agreements binding upon Namibia under this Constitution shall form part of the law of Namibia.
The International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ICESCR) was ratified by the Namibian Parliament and came into force on 28 February 1995. These internationally recognised rights are:
• The right to work;
• the right to fair conditions of employment;
• the right to form and join trade unions;
• the right to social security;
• the right to protection of the family;
• the right to an adequate standard of living, including the right to food, clothing, and housing;
• the right to health;
• the right to education; and
• the right to culture.
This means that civil and political rights as well as ESC rights have to be treated in an equal manner, on the same footing, and with the same emphasis.
The Namibian government as a party to the Covenant, is obliged to take steps to achieve the fulfilment of all the ESC rights recognised and protected under the Covenant. These steps include the adoption of legislation that allows for citizens to have these rights enforced.
In the case of Namibia, the Ombudsman is appointed by the President on the recommendation of the Judicial Service Commission and the function of the Ombudsman is defined under Chapter of the Constitution. In brief, the Ombudsman has the duty to investigate complaints against government institutions or employees; the protection of our living resources and violations of fundamental rights and freedoms.
Of particular interest for the Namibian consumer is Article 91 (d) that states:
“The Ombudsman functions shall include the following… the duty to investigate complaints concerning practices and actions by persons, enterprises and other private institutions where such complaints allege that violations of fundamental rights and freedoms under this
Constitution have taken place.”
Already the Office of the Ombudsman investigates a variety of civil, political, economic, social and cultural rights. These have included issues around unfair dismissal, remunerations and salaries, and pension funds. These are all issues of a socio-economic nature, indicating the important role the Ombudsman plays in protecting and enforcing socio-economic rights in Namibia.
Any person in Namibia has the right to complain to the Office of the Ombudsman, including a problem in respects of consumer protection. I would like to encourage any consumer that has an issue of consumer protection to apply for them to investigate the issue.
My hope is that with the support of the Ombudsman we will be able to speed the process of enacting a law on Consumer Protection.
Human rights are traditionally divided into two main groups, namely –
• civil and political rights, and
• economic, social and cultural (ESC) rights (also referred to as second and third generation rights).
In Namibia, since Independence, most people can freely exercise and enjoy the fundamental rights and freedoms recognised and protected in the Bill of Rights entrenched in the Constitution of the Republic of Namibia (Chapter3), most of which are civil and political rights. But how many people enjoy or even are aware of their Economic, Social and Consumer rights? ESC rights play an important role in people’s standard of living and should play a greater role in improving people’s opportunities in life.
A literal interpretation of the Constitution would thus let us understand that some, but not all, consumer protection issues are considered rights.
John Nakuta, in his paper, “The justiciability of social, economic and cultural rights in Namibia and the role of the nongovernmental organisations”, argues that ESC rights can be enforced both directly under the Namibian Constitution through Article 144 of the Constitution, which reads as follows:
Unless otherwise provided for by this Constitution or Act of Parliament, the general rules of public international law and international agreements binding upon Namibia under this Constitution shall form part of the law of Namibia.
The International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ICESCR) was ratified by the Namibian Parliament and came into force on 28 February 1995. These internationally recognised rights are:
• The right to work;
• the right to fair conditions of employment;
• the right to form and join trade unions;
• the right to social security;
• the right to protection of the family;
• the right to an adequate standard of living, including the right to food, clothing, and housing;
• the right to health;
• the right to education; and
• the right to culture.
This means that civil and political rights as well as ESC rights have to be treated in an equal manner, on the same footing, and with the same emphasis.
The Namibian government as a party to the Covenant, is obliged to take steps to achieve the fulfilment of all the ESC rights recognised and protected under the Covenant. These steps include the adoption of legislation that allows for citizens to have these rights enforced.
Office of the Ombudsman as Consumer protector
One of the institutions created to protect the rights of people in Namibia is the Office of the Ombudsman. According to Wikipedia, an ombudsman is a person who acts as a trusted intermediary between either the state or an organization, and some internal or external constituency, while representing not only but mostly the broad scope of constituent interests. It comes from the Old Norse word umboðsmaðr, essentially meaning "representative". In modern language the ombudsman is an official appointed by the government or parliament with a significant degree of independence, who is charged with representing the interests of the public by investigating and addressing complaints reported by individuals.In the case of Namibia, the Ombudsman is appointed by the President on the recommendation of the Judicial Service Commission and the function of the Ombudsman is defined under Chapter of the Constitution. In brief, the Ombudsman has the duty to investigate complaints against government institutions or employees; the protection of our living resources and violations of fundamental rights and freedoms.
Of particular interest for the Namibian consumer is Article 91 (d) that states:
“The Ombudsman functions shall include the following… the duty to investigate complaints concerning practices and actions by persons, enterprises and other private institutions where such complaints allege that violations of fundamental rights and freedoms under this
Constitution have taken place.”
Already the Office of the Ombudsman investigates a variety of civil, political, economic, social and cultural rights. These have included issues around unfair dismissal, remunerations and salaries, and pension funds. These are all issues of a socio-economic nature, indicating the important role the Ombudsman plays in protecting and enforcing socio-economic rights in Namibia.
Any person in Namibia has the right to complain to the Office of the Ombudsman, including a problem in respects of consumer protection. I would like to encourage any consumer that has an issue of consumer protection to apply for them to investigate the issue.
My hope is that with the support of the Ombudsman we will be able to speed the process of enacting a law on Consumer Protection.
Competitions of luck not so lucky
(Consumer Column - Namibian Newspaper - 6 December 2012)
I would love to win a car for Xmas, or even just a shopping hamper. It’s that time of the year when each of us hopes and desires are higher than normal. We not only want more money for ourselves, but also that we can buy things for people we care about. Companies understand this of course and are busy doing everything to tempt us to think only of today, not the January we all know is around the corner.
As a consumer we understand that our relationship with business is one of mutual benefit. Nevertheless, we also expect our government to create laws that will not leave us powerless when we want compensation when things go wrong, or at least laws that will prevent outright abuse of us as the people of the country.
As a consumer advocate, and someone who cannot see injustice without at least writing about it, I am worried when the government does not do its job.
Before Independence there were laws governing lotteries, raffle tickets and other games of luck. When it was decided that Namibia would legalise gambling this law had to be revised and updated. Unfortunately, the lawmakers concentrated on casinos and gambling houses and forgot about other games of skill. This has left a loophole which is being abused.
To give an example: You and I can come together and decide to hold a raffle with a car as the prize. We will print tickets and even get a car to be shown at one of the car dealers. Our aim will be to sell tickets to raise N$ 400 000 and the car will be valued at N$ 200 000. Till thus far it sounds like something each of us have participated in the hope of winning. However, once we have collected the money I will ensure you (as my partner) will win the car. I will keep the money we collect and you win the car. This is a really good business idea for you and me, but what about the other people who all bought a ticket? I am sure they would not buy a ticket if they knew they would not win.
Or what about selling scratch cards that promise you cash if you get a certain number of pictures that match? Would you buy a scratch card if you knew that not a single card that was printed actually has a winning combination?
Or how about a competition that you enter by sending an SMS where the promoters promises that the first person to send an SMS is going to win? Surely they would not continue charging people who send in an SMS after the prize has been won?
You as a consumer would think that you are protected against this kind of business venture, right? Wrong. I had the opportunity to discuss the new gambling bill that is being discussed around the country and found out that the present law does not cover this kind of business activity. If you participate in these games of luck (and sometimes the business even suggests it is a game of skill), you have no place to complain. The promoters might be acting unethically, but they are not acting illegally.
The Ministry of Environment and Tourism is in the process of speaking to stakeholders and they need complete this as soon as possible and get this legislation to parliament to make sure that we as the citizens are protected.
So next time you give your hard earned money in the hope you win something, think carefully about whether you actually know you stand a chance of winning in a fair manner.
A Consumer Christmas Wish List
During the Xmas period it is considered part of the festive season to give and receive presents. I remember as a young boy writing a letter to Father Xmas and asking for the gifts(s) I hoped to find under the tree. Many times I was disappointed and had to do with small gift and more often than not, practical things like socks or other clothing articles were part of my “presents”.
For this Xmas season I have made a wish list of things I would like to see for the Namibian consumer.
Friendly Customer Service
Many employees in government and private business are not aware of the saying, (or simply ignore it), “The customer is king”. While it is understandable that the salaries are never enough and personal problems are worrying you, please make an effort to greet your customer and provide the most helpful service you can. Not only will you make me happier, but it will also lead to me doing more business with your company – which will lead to more profit and hopefully better salaries.More affordable banking choices
Banks provide an important service. If you as a consumer wish to grow, you need the credit provided by the bank. My wish is that banks work at innovative ways to make the services more affordable.
Buying “Made in Namibia”
Buying products made in Namibia or preferring to use services provided by local companies’ means more profits for local owners who will create more jobs and these consumers in turn buy more in an ever increasing cycle of growth. Buying local is not only good for you; it’s good for all of us.Understandable Pricing
The prices on products in the shops are often difficult to compare. The same product is packed in different sizes and makes comparison difficult. I would like to see the shops provide the price of all products broken down into the price per kilogram, litre or some other unit that will allow me to make comparisons between products of different sizes.Consumer Law
The Ministry of Trade and Industry, the Ministry of Justice, Namibian Financial Institutions Supervisory Authority (Namfisa) and the Namibian Competition Commission have made presentations on consumer protection frameworks during the past few years. I wish for a comprehensive legal draft on consumer protection to be tabled in Parliament (soon).Affordable Housing for all
The demand for housing is not being met by the National Housing Enterprise (NHE) or the assistance programmes created by local authorities. Preventing foreigners from buying properties in urban areas is not going to greatly influence the prices or provide more erven for first time buyers. I wish for better town planning which will purposefully create mixed economy housing. By this I mean having lower income housing areas close to (and between) high income housing. For example affordable housing areas on the east side of Windhoek close to Klein Windhoek, Avis and Ludwigsdorp. This will not bring down the cost of housing in these areas, but will certainly bring down the cost of transport and other costs for the workers who have to work in these areas if they live closer.Away with January Blues
Of all my wishes, this is the one where you have to be good consumer to get your gift. No matter what the temptation is, do not spend more than you can afford. Save some money and remember that after Xmas there are many bargains to be had for cheaper when consumers are no longer “in the spirit of buying”. If you can spend according to your budget you will have money left in January.Lastly, I wish for all consumers to remember some good advice given to me by my grandfather, “Never buy food, clothes or petrol on credit. Never use now and pay later. You will not appreciate what you bought if it is old when you have to pay for it.”
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