By Christine Hugo
Driving back from Matemba Village near Ruacana to Nakayale Private Academy for Orphans and Marginalised Children, I felt the little boy on my lap relax. He had stopped crying and sat in silence, his face set, revealing not a trace of emotion. I could only sense the vast cultural divide between us and the complexities of his thoughts and feelings.
The visit to his village was part of a project documenting the school and its children’s stories I was helping with. My mother started it. She established a school in Etunda, Omusati Region, where many children live beyond the margins, not to give them more choice – but to provide the only alternative to nothing. Nakayale is, in a way, my sibling.
The village was home to a few mud and grass huts, and as we arrived, children of all ages ran to greet us, excited to see their cousin and friend. Despite it being a weekday, they were not in school and posed happily for photos, seemingly unbothered by their dirty, tattered clothing. Our little Nakayale student looked out of place in his bright yellow shirt and green shorts. No adults were around, just a baby clinging to a little girl’s hip and some teenage girls giggling at the scene. I surveyed the surroundings — empty beer bottles, plastic debris, and a few goats and chickens that shared the huts at night due to the absence of secure enclosures.
The lack of water or bathroom facilities was evident. Suddenly, a commotion caught my attention. Our student had buried his face in his elbow, shaking with sobs. When I inquired about the cause, I learned nothing had happened, yet everything had.
It was painfully apparent that so much weighed on him. I picked him up and returned him to the vehicle, uncertain if he felt out of place or overwhelmed. Did he sense how thin the line was between his life and despair? Had we saved him or deprived him of his community? Meanwhile, other children laughed and posed for the camera, imitating influencer poses they must have seen on social media, a concept that baffled me in this impoverished setting. With data being costly in Namibia, access was limited for many, yet they were exposed to the pop ideals of Western culture.
We had brought supplies for the boy’s family, including mealie meal, sugar, and pasta. They mentioned that his grandmother was busy in the Mahangu field, and someone had gone to fetch her. We waited for her arrival, and when she finally came, her wrinkled face told of years of hardship. Upon seeing the supplies we brought, she clapped her hands in gratitude. After saying our goodbyes, we drove off, the forgotten children shrinking in the distance.
Illiteracy, poverty, and starvation are not unique to Namibia; they are global challenges. History, politics, and societal structures can cause people to fall through the cracks.
The initial idea was to financially sustain the school through profits from an agricultural project my mother also initiated. True to her ambitious nature, she sought to address challenges through sustainable business practices, promoting job creation over mere charity. Despite her immense efforts, the agricultural project failed to achieve sustainability due to various factors, including inconsistent water supply, droughts, pests, a struggling economy, and fluctuating fuel costs. But the school was a miracle.
An institution born out of a passion to transfigure education in rural Africa. In its early stages, Carmen de Villiers, an educationist with a long-held dream of alternative teaching methods, met Chrisna Greeff, who was committed to building a school. Together, they created Nakayale, a holistic, full- board learning environment that serves as a sanctuary for the brightest and most promising children from remote villages seeking to change their lives.
Carmen devised a system to assess the children’s perceptual awareness. Each year, she embarks on a journey in a bakkie, accompanied by a translator and assistants, gathering groups of children to evaluate. This thorough evaluation takes a month, requiring a deep understanding of each child’s circumstances and potential.
During her first expedition, Carmen discovered that these children displayed impressive physical, perceptual and other developmental abilities in most areas, surpassing those of children from more developed regions. Their balancing and climbing skills indicated resilience and adaptability not despite but because of a natural environment – without screens and with limited material resources.
The desperation to enrol children in the school was startling. Even for those with means, the nearest schools were far away, and every option was challenging. And Nakayale could only take fifteen children.
On the day the first intake of children moved into the hostel, the boys opened every tap in the residence. Water was streaming over the floor, flooding the hallways among shrieks and laughter.
They were like kids in a candy store. Except that it wasn’t candy. It was running water. It was a mattress to sleep on. On a bed. With luxuries like toothbrushes, toothpaste, and whole and clean clothes. Soap.
It was guaranteed three nutritious meals and two snacks every day without exception.
Academically, the children thrived and continued to do so as they moved along the grades.
The school was run according to the initial plan without external interference or funding. How the children would fare after finishing primary education and moving to secondary schools was still unclear.
Within the first year, these intelligent, once non-English- speaking children blossomed into confident students, driven by Carmen’s emphasis on personal purpose and identity.
When an agriculture project faltered, new funding sources were sought. Facing the threat of closure, we turned to potential donors; our school had become a charity case after all.
B2Gold, which had already invested millions in corporate social initiatives, came to the rescue, and the school survived. They graciously continue to support Nakayale as much as possible on so many levels.
The moment of truth arrived with the graduation of the first group of children from Nakayale in December 2021. We would finally see if the model had succeeded and if they could thrive academically and socially in the wider world.
With financial support from B2Gold championed by the late Mark Dawe, Carmen and her team secured places for fifteen children at the Karstveld Private Academy in Grootfontein. FlyNamibia and FNB Namibia also joined the initiative, enabling more students to continue their secondary education.
By the end of the first year, one Nakayale student achieved the highest grade in grade 9, while the others also ranked among the top performers.
These children, who had been on the margins of life, successfully integrated into high school, impressing teachers with self- discipline and work ethic. Their hostel rooms were tidy, and they proved to be strong, intelligent, and independent.
By the end of 2024, all had maintained average grades between 70% and 90%.
Nakayale was no longer a pipedream. It was a proven portal to a sustainable future, to a life of excellence and influence, only thanks to the financial and moral support of the donors who pay the Karstsveld school fees—Westair, FNB Namibia, and B2Gold.
Finding high schools for the Nakayale graduates every year remains a tremendous challenge financially and logistically. But these children remain our responsibility when they leave Nakayale. They are too young to fly solo.
The journey back from the village brought many reflections on childhood, community, and identity. While the little boy sat quietly on my lap, it struck me that his silence carried stories, struggles, and an entire world unknown to me.
Though he appeared distant, perhaps he was absorbing it all, processing emotions shaped by experiences I could hardly begin to imagine.
As we continued our drive, I pondered the impact of these experiences on our Nakayale children. Would they find the balance between their past and present? Could they navigate their individual stories while belonging to the community they had come from? Only time will tell.
The challenges ahead loomed large, but the spirit of Nakayale remains unwavering—a place where children would be supported, learning to thrive against the odds, building futures that had once seemed impossible. In this environment of love and resilience, hope took root, not just for the children of Nakayale but for the broader tapestry of communities they come from and who will benefit from their progress.
Every child who walks through the school’s doors is a testament to the power of determination, compassion, and the belief that education can alter life’s trajectory, one child at a time. Africa requires a new model for the margins, including case studies, evidence, direction, and real-life insights.
We have one. But it is still a baby. With the support and generosity of individuals and organizations, Nakayale will continue its mission, and the secondary school support system will also persist.
We have to raise this baby well. There is so much for it to do.
Nakayale is supported by Westair, B2Gold, FNB and Rossing Foundation.
As Namibia transitions into a new chapter, we extend our deepest gratitude to outgoing President Nangolo Mbumba for his dedicated service during this time of change. Serving as Namibia’s president following the passing of the late Dr. Hage Geingob, President Mbumba has been a steady hand guiding the nation through a period of transition.
In a significant step toward improving airport security and awareness, SIGNA Aviation Training ATO, in collaboration with the Office of the Inspector General of the Namibian Police (NAMPOL), hosted an important training event focused on Human Trafficking Awareness and Illegal Wildlife Trade.
In a significant step towards enhancing border efficiency and streamlining immigration processes, the Ministry of Home Affairs, Immigration, Safety, and Security (MHAISS) has officially launched the online application for visa on arrival.
As the first light of dawn stretched over the Lüderitz Waterfront, we gathered at the jetty, greeted by the crisp morning air and the promise of adventure. The crew of Penguin Catamaran Tours welcomed us aboard with warm smiles, their enthusiasm setting the tone for what would be an unforgettable journey.
