"Can I Photo You?"

Grade 9 Essay: who I want to be when I grow up

The person I would like to become in life I would like to become in my life like the doctors that can I see every day in the hospital. And me also I want to become a doctor because a doctor is a good person even you are sick you can know how can I do to become a health person.

I want to become a doctor for this purpose because of disease. When I will be a doctor I would help many people in the hospital I can not do something make the people angry. When the people come to the hospital I can do them well and quickly. It’s not like in Nankudu hospital (2km from Sitopogo) the nurse of these hospital they have bad behaviour they don’t want to do the person quickly. For me I like to be a nice doctor at all how I can prepare something to do when I will be a doctor.

I want to encourage the people if you see me in the hospital please don’t afraid it’s me. I can help you I’m a good person at all if you don’t know that. When I will be a doctor I can help many people in these country.

Picture 1: Kids playing at the river. Boy on the left is playing with a homemade soccer ball.
Pictures 2: Mshasho...the hand sign for Namibia's most popular musician. At Poppa Falls.
Picture 3. Girls who came to cook. Right to left: Justhina, Reginalda, Amalia, Cesilia, Annecky and Maria, with Regina kneeling.
Picture 4: At school, all loaded and ready to hit the road.

Last weekend, Julius and I led a field trip (second in school’s history) to the Mahango Game Park in Divundu, about 320km east of the village along the river. Justhina, pictured and whose writing is featured above, was one of nine girls from grades 8-10 who joined us to take charge of cooking. With them came 32 grade 4 kids. At 11am, promptly 3 ½ hours after the Ministry agreed to pick us up that morning, we climbed into the bed of an enormous farm truck-turned official Ministry vehicle for a ride to Rundu. There, our mere two errands – the bank and grocery store – took a mere four hours.

“We have 26 rooms booked” Julius told me as we departed Rundu towards Divundu. With two beds per room, that was more than enough. We pulled into the Frans Dimbare Youth Centre at dusk at which time the director, predictably, informed us that all the rooms had been booked. By others. What about our booking? As if he didn’t understand the question, he again said all the rooms were booked. As a consolation accommodation, he led us to two faded green tents, each of which held 11 beds. The kids, completely unfazed by the drastic derailment of our plans, went on to claim their corner of a bed. Similarly undeterred, Julius and I left the kids, none of whom own flashlights, to their own devices in their electricity-less quarters. Only in Africa is the adjustment from sleeping in a bedroom to a tattered tent met with such placidity. Then again it’s not an adjustment if it’s not different from what you’re used to.

Saturday, we headed to Mahango, where we saw hippos, a buffalo, ostriches, elephants, zebras and impalas, not in great numbers like Etosha, but a handful at a time. Upon entering the park, we ran into a group of middle-aged Italian tourists. They were eager to photograph the kids, who obliged happily. Pictures to prove they indeed saw Africans in Africa between stays at various four-star villas. But back in the car, the older girls started making of them. “Can I photo you?” asked Justhina mockingly. “No, very, very no!” chorused the girls, laughing.

When we finished at Mahango it was over 100⁰ and there was no air conditioning in our 1992 Toyota minibus. Only a few km on the way back to the Youth Centre is Poppa Falls, part of Namibia’s main national park network, so Julius and I told the drivers to stop. At the falls, much to the drivers’ chagrin, most kids dunked themselves, making for a wet drive back. And a smelly car the next day. But it was worth it, splashing around in the water to cool off after hours in the car.

Back at Frans Dimbare, the girls began cooking lunch…at 4:30pm. We had eaten breakfast at 7:30am.

Overall, a very successful trip, all credited to Julius who did all the planning. I hardly lifted a finger over the weekend. Chaperoning, a demanding duty in the US, doesn’t mean corral the kids at each interval of the trip. Instead, when we stopped, the kids ran freely, disappearing then reappearing just before we pulled away as if they’d received a telepathic message telling them to return.

On Sunday I returned to Sitopogo with less than two months of classes left and the grade 10 in the midst of Junior Secondary Certificate exams. These exams are hugely significant as they will determine what each will be doing next year. Will they be finishing up grade 11 at a nearby Senior Secondary School, en route to a coveted Senior Secondary School Certificate, the only means by which one can get a stable job? Or will they be irrigating their family’s small plot of maize?

Either way, things are slowly winding down.