An open letter to Donald Trump about ‘Nambia’

Dear Mr Trump: I do realise that as the leader of the Free World and the Nemesis of the North Korean “Rocket Man”, you are under a lot of stress. A good place to relax and unwind is Namibia, which is our neighbour here in southern Africa and probably not related to the “Nambia” which appears to occupy a lot of the space in your cranium.

If you would permit me, let me enlighten you about Namibia. I do this as a bit of an expert, having lived there for five years while plying my trade as a journalist.

Let me warn you, sir, that Namibia (with the i) can frighten people (even ones who don’t have red hair and small hands). It is vast, it is wild and, if you are not careful, it could kill you. Not because it wants to spread its revolution to the US, but because it is a desert and if you don’t treat a desert with respect, well, then you die.

It is a harsh place, much like our Karoo in South Africa. The horizons are far, far away and the best times of day are sunrise and sunset when the beauty of the place will take your breath away. But, if you are used to green fields and forests, be prepared to be challenged.

When we arrived in Namibia and went to our first braai (barbecue you would call it, and here we don’t put hamburger patties on it – remember that); an old German said: “Ja, ven you come here you cry, und ven you leave you cry again …”

He was right. Once Namibia’s stark beauty gets under your skin, you will always be drawn back to it.

You can fly in to the capital, Windhoek, or to Walvis Bay on the coast, but having a car is a must. The distances are vast and there is no public transport to speak of. Surprisingly, you will not need a 4×4 to access 90% of the country – from the teak forests on the Angolan and Zambian (yes, Zambia with a zee at the front) borders, to the “sand sea” of the Namib desert stretching down to the old diamond town of Kolmannskop, on the outskirts of the port of Luderitz.

Visit the seaside town of Swakopmund, where Angelina and Brad holed up a few years ago so she could have her baby – and where they shot the latest in the “Max Max” movie franchise series – and you will marvel at the sounds and tastes of Germany.

This country was once a German colony and you can get coffee and black forest cake that rivals the best Angela Merkel will ever get offered.

But if you are tired of being King and you need a little, relaxing reminder of how small you really are, then follow these instructions. Get a tent, plenty of water and firewood and head into the Namib Desert. Stop at the campsite under the bridge over the Kuiseb River. If it is in late summer (January to March) check the upcountry rains, because the Kuiseb rises so fast you won’t be able to escape the flood.

Take your choice of tipple with you. Namibians fancy their beer, Windhoek, because it is still brewed to the centuries-old German “Purity Law” with no artificial ingredients. They also drink more Jaegermeister (ask any barkeep in any pub in the country and they’ll rustle one up for you) than anyone else in the world, per capita.

Once you’ve had your sizzling steak and sipped your drink, walk away from your roaring fire. Look up into the heavens. We won’t blame you if you start to duck because you think you’ll get hit on the head by the stars which are so close, and so clear.

You may be the leader of the Free World, but to really feel free in the world, you need to be under Namibia’s desert stars.

You may thank me later … by putting the i back in the country’s name.

Citizen acting deputy editor Brendan Seery.