2020, A Space Odyssey Really, this year has been all about personal space.
A
fter many years of standing in various queues in Namibia I can say this: my people have a poor understanding of personal space. I have been poked in the back by beer bellies while waiting to pay for my groceries; I have felt belt buckles brush against my buttocks at the bank. Men have breathed down my neck as I stood waiting to pay municipal bills. I have narrowly avoided being squashed by women while queuing for popcorn at the cinema. I have truly seen and felt some things, dear reader, and to recount all of them on these pages would take too much time and raise too many questions.
culture, experienced a downturn in fortunes while bookshops flourished – they were places that offered a literary escape from the physical and mental lockdowns of the world. I can safely admit this: save the bookshops, burn everything else down. Meetings at work were moved online or scrapped all together. Three cheers for not seeing middle management on a Monday. Pavements around the city became more popular, too, as people walked, jogged, and ran more to break the monotony of continuous confinement. The outdoors were the thing – as they should always have been – and it was common to see entire families on the roads at sunrise or sunset when the heat was not so murderous. Spaces of all kinds, especially public spaces, were shared for what I think was the first time in my years in Namibia.
I have never been a fan of queues in general, but even more so I have never enjoyed having my personal space The way space – mental, spiritual and physical – became invaded, whether it was in a public library or standing at a cherished led to interesting conversations about its urinal. I have always believed that human beings are best importance in our lives, about how it had been rationed, experienced a metre away – especially at family gatherings. controlled, and unfairly distributed, in Windhoek and around And at work. Especially at work. I think that the world. It was even more encouraging to forced or mandatory hugging should be hear people talk about the pernicious ways outlawed by the Geneva Convention. I even in which space had been surrendered to the have a badge that says “No hugs”. Secretly I Hugging was a dictums of capitalism and corporate cultures. have always known that fist bumps were the I am quite hopeful that in the days to come, health hazard with people having experienced the joys of way of the future, but this elbow greeting is just what the doctor and the World Health from home, they will question the and I hate to working Organisation prescribed. I am here for it all. value of commutes and sitting in dreary be that person offices all day. As we have seen, if it can be The only time personal space should be invaded done from the comfort of one’s couch, why in a public place is during partner-dancing, who says I told must it be done in a conference room? something that I truly love. you so but I With 2021 around the corner, I nurture a quiet told you so! So it was quite strange, but also most optimism that these conversations will continue, opportune, that when the COVID-19 pandemic and that meaningful and tangible action will be made social distancing a sort of norm – I say taken to ensure space becomes something that sort of because it is in its early days – and even now with is integrated into all aspects of design, business, and personal lockdown procedures being relaxed, social distancing was life. Because the freedom, relaxation and the room to grow, and is being treated as a personal affront to one’s dignity. learn, and explore that space of any kind provides are things But in the early days of lockdown everyone had to stand two worth preserving and fighting for. metres apart for the sake of their own health, and also to save me from petty annoyances. What bliss. Hugging was a health hazard and I hate to be that person who says I told Rémy Ngamije is a Rwandan-born Namibian writer and you so but I told you so! photographer. His debut novel The Eternal Audience Of One is available from Blackbird Books (South Africa) and is And crowded places became a taboo. For the first time in forthcoming from Scout Press (S&S). He is the co-founder my life shopping became a pleasure – the absence of spaceand editor-in-chief of Doek!, Namibia’s first literary magazine. hogging trolleys was sincerely appreciated, as was the patient His work has appeared in Litro Magazine, AFREADA, The standing in line outside shops to receive a service. Personally, Johannesburg Review of Books, Brainwavez, The Amistad, I have never understood why shops were ever allowed to be The Kalahari Review, American Chordata, Doek!, Azure, crowded in the first place. Sultan’s Seal, Santa Ana River Review, Columbia Journal, New Contrast, Necessary Fiction, Silver Pinion, and Lolwe. But it did not end there. Places that I have long thought He is currently shortlisted for the AKO Caine Prize for African unnecessary, like malls and their attendant consumer Writing in 2020.
33
